AN: Remember, I warned you.

Salvador Baraza sat on the back porch with his nephew, Julio, smoking cigarettes. They were both big, solid men; Salvador was going bald and wore a mustache, while Julio sported a shaved head, a popular look with young men in Costa Del Sol, and was clean-shaven. In the big, sandy yard, the little girls played with their dolls, while the boys lashed at each other with palm switches. The sun sat high overhead, and had not seemed to move for hours, as if it had made itself lazy.

"I'm thirsty," said Salvador.

"So do something about it, tio."

Salvador got to his feet with a huff, adjusted his belt, then walked with wide, sauntering steps down the stairs, past the children, to the stand of palm trees dividing the yard from the neighbor's. He dealt one a kick with his sharp-toed boot, and caught the ripe fruit that fell down. He took the machete from his belt, lopped the top off the coconut, and slurped up a little of its rich, gooey innards. Then he took out his silver drinking flask and filled it back to the rim with tequila. He returned to the porch.

"You drink too much, tio."

"Shut your mouth. You drink too little, and you own the bar. Besides, what else is there to do."

"The children seem to find plenty to do," observed Julio, rolling another cigarette.

Salvador smiled, then began on his improvised drink. It stained the ends of his mustache white.

"This is true. But when you are a child, you are innocent. Everything, you do for the first time. Only when you get older, you realize it's all been done before. You're still young, Julio. Probably you don't know what I mean."

"I'm thirty-four, tio."

"So, what? The first ten years, they are like nothing. The next ten, you spend making foolish mistakes. You have only been a man for the last ten years. That's not so old."

"Whatever you say, tio."

One of the boys bust into angry tears, threw his palm-sword on the ground, and turned to them.

"Abuelo! Hector, he threw sand in my eyes!"

"What for did you stand still, so he could hit you?"

"He said he gave up, then when I came close, he threw sand in my eyes!"

Salvador sighed. "Hector, give your brother a free hit. But you, Benito, be more careful next time. If this were a real fight, you'd be dead."

"Tio!" said Julio. "Don't talk to the boys like that."

"What? So things aren't like they are when I was young. That's not to say they'll never be like that again. Peace doesn't last forever, Julio."

Julio was eyeing Salvador's coconut.

"Give me some of that."

"Go make your own, you lazy boy."

The swinging doors creaked, and a formidable-looking woman in an apron, her gray hair like steel, leaned outside.

"Salvador," she said, businesslike, "I see a couple of men coming up the path. I can't tell what they look like through this heat, but they are all wearing suits."

Salvador shared a meaningful look with Julio. "Could be trouble," he said. "Nobody does anything at this time of day. Carla, get two shotguns from the cabinet. Julio, with me."

"Really, tio, it's probably just some salesmen."

"Or those crooks who got off the boat yesterday. You're too soft, Julio, and it will bring you misfortune."

They went through the dusty hallway, lit only by the brilliant daylight through curtains, past the old wood walls and the family photographs, and Carla handed them their shotguns in the hallway. Salvador cracked the breech and nodded at the sight of the two shells nestled there. Julio looked bemused, but not entirely at ease.

Salvador put his eye to the peephole. He blinked rapidly, muttered an oath, then opened the door and put his head out.

"Mother Gaia," he exclaimed, in a thick voice, "do my eyes play tricks on me? Julio, come here! Carla, it is your boy! Your boy, he has come back!"

"Devils take your soul if you lie to me, old man!" said Carla, shoving past him. Then her face lit up with joy and she tripped down the front steps, exclaiming: "Rudo! Rudo, you come straight to your mama! Why are you standing there like some shy schoolboy!"

All at once, they were surrounded by a stampede of children. Julio's three sons and four daughter rushed around them, crying out: "Rudo, tio Rudo, has come back to Costa Del Sol! Hooray, hooray! Tio Rudo comes back to stay!"

Rude stood at the center of the group in front of the house, looking exactly like a shy schoolboy. On his right, Tseng was trying to hide a smile on the pretext of checking his watch. Behind them Elena, wilting under the force of the heat, stood beside a smart, clean-cut young man with bristly, prematurely gray hair.

The children climbed over Rude, but Carla knocked them impatiently aside and wrapped her arms around him. The bun of her hair rose to his armpits.

"Mama," he muttered, "not in front of my boss."

"Your boss, your boss! Always the work, the boss, never a moment to see your poor dying mama and your dear brother, now that your father, he is gone. Tear out my heart, why don't you, and throw it here in the dirt, and stamp all over it!"

"Please, mama, you know I swore an oath when I joined the Turks…they're my family now."

"You do not speak to me like that, Rudo! You are not yet so big I cannot put you over my knee!"

"Your mama," said Salvador, grinning, "she makes a big joke. She is so proud of you, the Shinra soldier, you should hear her brag in the town.-It's good to see you again, little man." He gently pulled Carla away from Rude, and the two men embraced; then Julio stepped forward, and did the same.

"Sal," said Rude, blushing faintly, and looking down, "this is my supervisor, Tseng, and my colleagues Elena and Hunter. Tseng, this is my mother Carla, my brother Julio, and my uncle Salvador. Salvador is the constable here…Costa Del Sol is technically under his jurisdiction, not Shinra's. Julio owns the best bar in town…"

"El Corazon," Julio finished, proudly. "You will have to come by, I have many drinks for you to sample." This reminded him of something, and he turned suddenly and yelled up at the second story: "Hey! You!"

A window hissed open, and a pretty young woman stuck her head out.

"What the hell do you want, Julio?"

"Get six bottles of tequila, the good kind, and mix up a fucking cauldron of sangria for my friends here, thick like the blood of the gods!"

"Okay, I make you the cauldron, so I can drown you in it!"

"Just do as I say, woman!"

The window slammed shut; she vanished. Julio turned back to them, smiling rapturously.

"My wife," he said to Tseng. "We are married nine years. I am so much in love with that girl."

As the sun went down, all ten members of the Baraza clan sat down at their enormous table, joined by four Turks. Silver pots were filled with fragrant meat stew, liquid cheese, and hot peppers, and Julio's wife served them each with a smile, except her husband, for whom she reserved a scowl. When she was done, he pulled her onto his knee, and they kissed briefly before she took her seat.

The tang of pepper made Elena's nose run, and she dabbed with her handkerchief as discreetly as possible.

Julio slapped the hand of his eldest son, which had begun to reach for his fork.

"Ungrateful boy! You see the good food, and you want to eat, but you are forgetting whose thanks it is we have this food. Now, we say grace."

Glancing around, the Turks followed the lead of the Barazas as they shut their eyes and linked hands with their neighbors.

"Merciful spirits," said Julio, solemnly, "we give thanks to you who are of the air, and of the earth, and of the sea; who make corn grow in the earth, and fish in the sea. We are thankful also for the good people of Shinra, who bring peace and prosperity to our town, and to the whole world. May the reign of President Shinra last for ten thousand years. Gracious spirits, please watch over this family, and also our guests, who fight for Shinra to keep the world safe from troublemakers and terrorists. In your sacred names we ask these things, amen. Now! You can stuff your greedy face, Hector."

Tseng was surprised. While specious opinion polls placed President Shinra's approval ratings in the high nineties, and at least on the plate, he was not without supporters, it had been a long time since he heard heartfelt admiration expressed for the man. And he thought it was heartfelt.

After all, he reflected, President Shinra was no figurehead. He had done remarkable things; whatever else one thought of them, they were remarkable. He remembered visiting Junon as a young man, and choking on the smoke from the old coal power plant.

Rude was seated between two boys, and as he tried to eat, they bombarded him with questions.

"How many bad guys have you killed this year, tio Rude?"

"Is it true that President Shinra is so strong, he kills a kalm fang and eats it for breakfast?"

"You are so pretty, hermana," one of the girls said to Elena. "How do you make your hair so yellow? Did you paint it?"

"Um, I was just born this way I guess…ha-choo!"

"Let me touch it, please!" She did, and reported to her sister: "The paint, it does not come off!"

No mention was made of business.

When most of the food was gone, Julio dismissed the children, and returned with the promised bottles of tequila, while his wife carried in a big chalice full of fragrant sangria.

Elena sat on the porch, her face bright red, her handkerchief plastered to her forehead. Laughter, and the sound of pouring liquid, filtered from inside. Insects purred in the cool night air, and somewhere a dog barked.

The door opened. Someone pressed a glass of cold water into her hand.

"Oh! Thank you."

She looked up, and saw Hunter's face, grinning sardonically.

"You okay, Blondilocks? This Costa Del Sol stuff goes straight to your head."

"Fine, thanks," she said, and sighed. "You know what…I think I'm being tested. Tseng said half of this job was holding your liquor. I'm starting to think he wasn't joking."

Hunter laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised. It's a big honor to be taken on an international field mission, y'know. I'll bet he is scoping you out. As a matter of fact…" He leaned closer, with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. "Word is, Tseng's finally going to tap a new senior man. After this? I think my odds look good. Knock on wood."

"Really?" said Elena, sincerely. "I'm so happy for you."

"Hey, this department is nothing but shell-shocked vets, and limp-wristed suits.-No offense. Whereas I got six years as a crime squad detective, I'm clean as a whistle, plus I butter up ol' Long Dong Wong every chance I get…"

Elena snorted into her handkerchief. "Don't call him that! He'll hear you!"

"All I'm saying is, the word from the men's locker room is, shall we say, unambiguous. Speaking of which…" Hunter wiggled his eyebrows. "Should my number come up, and with a little ah, shall we say, incentive, your own career could benefit. If you catch my drift."

"Thanks," said Elena, smirking, "but no thanks."

"Oh hell, you can't blame a guy for trying. Unless you've got bigger fish to fry? They say Wu-Tai men like the blondes."

"They also say blondes are dumb enough to fall for pick-up lines like yours, Hunter. But I am pretty dumb. Sometimes I don't know what I've gotten myself into. I sincerely doubt a man like Tseng would ever fall for someone like me."

The girl struck Rude on the arm with the tiny plastic horse, and it hurt.

"One more time, tio Rudo! And you do it right."

Rude sighed. "I'm doing my best, carino."

"You have to do them in different voices."

"So…which is this, again?" Rude held up one of his two horses, the one with the pink mane.

"That is Fluttershy. Do her in the quiet voice."

"…How quiet?"

"She is called Fluttershy, tio Rudo, how quiet do you think? You are not very smart for a man who works for Shinra. You make trouble for them, maybe."

"Fine. Let's try this again." Rude coughed, brandished Fluttershy, and said in a tiny voice: "Oh, Rarity, your mane and your gown are so pretty."

The girl beamed at him. "That is much better. Okay…naturally, I have to look my best for the Grand Galloping Gala in Canterlot! Now, do Pinkie Pie."

"What…sort of voice?"

"Imagine you are drunk, tio Rudo, but on sweet wine with a lot of sugar."

Rude lifted the other horse. "…What's that? I had no idea the Grand Galloping Gala was today! Can I come? Can I? Can I? Can I?"

The girl laughed so hard she rolled over. "Oh, that is very good! Okay, now I do Twilight Sparkle. Girls, you are all my friends! I have tickets for all of you."

"Yay!"

"Now do Fluttershy."

Rude held the pink-maned horse close to his mouth, and whispered: "Yay."

Tseng stepped through the open door. "Rude…"

"Sir!"

"Nevermind," said Tseng, mildly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's…not what it looks like."

"Senor Tseng," said the girl, "you come here and do Twilight Sparkle for me! I think you do her very well!"

But Tseng had already vanished.

It was a windy night, and the streets of Costa Del Sol were filled with dust. As Tseng and Salvador walked side-by-side, they encountered a tumbleweed. Tseng had seen tumbleweed in films, and in cartoons, and imagined they were cute, harmless things. In fact it was huge, and looked downright unsettling as it rolled past. He instinctively drew back.

"Here is my nephew's bar," said Salvador, taking out a big ring of keys. "We can talk here. It is always closed on this day of the week."

"I'll certainly come back when it's open."

"We can drink, too, he won't care."

Tseng's head was already light from the cup of sangria and four shots of tequila he'd consumed at the house, while Salvador seemed to feel no effects.

El Corazon was a large place, with the atmosphere of a barn, and sawdust on the floor. The bottles hung in an iron rack behind the bar, and the bar itself was a chunk of wood that looked like solid metal, like something that had been there since the dawn of time, and the structure was built around it. Tseng took a seat. Salvador poured out two glasses of tequila, and garnished each with a lime.

"So. I am grateful you come all this way to visit, but I do not believe it is simply for Rudo to see his mama.-Salud."

Their glasses clicked. "Salud. Nothing gets past you, constable."

Salvador leaned on the other side of the bar, and brought his old, jowly face close to Tseng's.

"Does this have anything to do with all the armed men who came off the ferry yesterday?"

"I'm afraid so. We're tracking down a valuable piece of Shinra property, and they're tracking us."

"And when one catches up with the other…?"

"I imagine some blood will be spilled."

Salvador drank, and shook his head slowly back and forth.

"Do not misunderstand, senor. I am not angry. Instead, I feel sorry for those men. Only a very big fool comes to Costa Del Sol to make trouble. Before you Shinra came, the city, she was a lawless place, a den of pirates and smugglers. Our boys, they learn from a very young age the way of the gun. We teach them to be warriors…like my nephew, Rudo."

"That would explain a lot," said Tseng, and sipped the tequila.

"Rudo, he means a lot to the people here. We have many traditions, we are proud; but you Shinra bring us so many good things. Rudo…he stands like a bridge, you see, between these two worlds."

"I can assure you, Rude…I mean, Rudo, is a man I trust with my life. You and Costa Del Sol have every reason to be proud of him."

Salvador beamed, and in a rush of genuine, if awkward feeling, he went on: "You must forgive the people here, senor Tseng. They are very backwards and superstitious. They believe in spirits in the rocks, in the trees. I tell them, there are no such spirits, only the spirit of the planet; the Shinra take it, and make it light our homes and clean our water. But they are…sentimental. They miss the spirits, I think."

Tseng stared at the ceiling, at an empty spider's web in the corner. He took another drink.

"Don't be so quick to part with your gods," he said, reflectively. "I don't believe in any gods myself…but, if it's a question of what you can't see…you can never be sure, can you? If your gods don't answer your prayers, well, that's fine. To hell with them. But as long as there's doubt…let people think whatever they want."

"Ah, I forget, you are a man of Wu-Tai! You must have traditions of your own. But you think the Shinra way is better, yes?"

"It doesn't matter what I think," said Tseng, and emptied his glass. "You heard what Rude said. I took an oath. The Turks are my family now, and my god, and the Turks serve Shinra."

"That is very wise, senor. I pour you another drink to celebrate your wisdom."

"Hang on," said Tseng. "I think we have company."

Salvador's eyes narrowed. "How can you tell a thing like that?"

"I can sense people…when that sense isn't muffled. Looks like they weren't smart enough to do that this time."

Reno and Yuffie stood across the street from El Corazon. Except for the dust and wind, they were alone, and the town looked eerily deserted.

"One more time. What do we want?" said Reno. "Cause if you trip over your tongue saying it, believe me, we aint gonna get it."

"Shinra troops out of Wu-Tai," said Yuffie, pouting with concentration, "a helicopter, and fifteen thousand gil."

"Alright. Let's move."

Yuffie shuffled her feet.

"Um, Red…you really think this crazy plan is gonna work?"

"What did I tell you? It's the last thing he'll be expecting. He's in search-and-destroy mode; he's not ready to bargain. So if we bring him to the table, he'll slip up."

"But why bring the pieces of the real stone along? Why not just hide em somewhere?"

"It's psychological," said Reno, confidently. "Last time he saw the stone, it was in that case. He sees the case, he's more likely to think what's in your hand, used to be in the case."

"I guess so…"

Reno placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the eyes.

"Come on. You don't wanna be small-time forever. The big boys? They don't go by the playbook. They make up their own moves."

Yuffie's small face filled with resolve, and she nodded.

"Alright."

"Then let's do this like it aint no thang."

There was a knock on the swinging doors. Above them, an inch of reddish hair showed. Tseng turned, and freed his gun from his coat, but didn't draw it.

"Is it trouble?" asked Salvador, darkly.

"On the contrary. This should save us both a lot of trouble," Tseng replied. "Reno! Step inside."

Yuffie burst through the doors. Every muscle in her tiny frame was trembling with conviction, and a man less seasoned than Tseng might have flinched as the twelve-year-old girl bore down on him. In one hand, she held what appeared to be a blazing red Summon materia, and under her other arm, the briefcase and puzzle box.

"Oath-breaker! Hands in the air! You too, Mister Mustache!"

Tseng, in fact, looked startled; and it was Yuffie's turn to flinch when he did raise his hands.

She recovered, gulped in air, and raised the materia over her head.

"See this? The gods of Wu-Tai are in here, Black Tortoise, and they're pissed. So you'd better do just what I…"

Reno stepped inside.

"Shh," he said.

Yuffie looked back, baffled.

"Huh?"

Very gently, Reno placed his finger on her lips. He shook his head. Then he looked up.

"Tseng…right?" he said, in a somewhat weak voice. "I ah, heard it was your birthday."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Well, I brought you a present. Actually, two presents. A little thief…and four pieces of a stone."

Yuffie tried to run, and crashed straight into him. The prop materia bounced from her hand and shattered on the floor into countless shards. Reno braced himself in the doorway; Yuffie dashed left around the bar, but ran into Salvador, his gun drawn. She ran the other way, and was confronted by Tseng, who stood with his arms crossed, a strange expression of comprehension, surprise, and pity on his face.

She sank down on the floor, and, hesitantly, as if she might have misunderstood, whispered:

"Red…?"

"I'm sorry, little sister. This is what's best for you. Being a thief and a grifter's no kind of life for a little girl. It's no kind of life for me, either." He turned to Tseng, eyes bright. "Yo, brother Turk! I don't blame you for shooting me down the other day, when I never asked for the job. Well, I'm asking now. Put me on the team, coach. I'm ready."

Tseng regarded him with a dense, inscrutable look on his face. It went on for some time. They looked at each other, and neither moved. Then, just as Reno's gaze began to falter, Tseng looked away, and reached into his jacket.

"I believe I have something that belongs to you."

He took out the collapsible nightstick, flicked his wrist, and it extended. Electricity hummed dully along its length, and the green and yellow materia in its handle glowed. He tossed it to Reno, who caught it handily.

"Thanks."

"Red," said Yuffie. "No way."

"I promised I'd get your back, and I did. Now you won't end up dead."

She flew at him, and rained blows on his chest.

"You lousy, rotten, lying, cheating, stupid…I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Then as she still hit him, he put his arms around her.

"I know," he said.

Tseng looked to Salvador.

"Got any rope, constable?"

"Si, senor."

"Then tie this girl up. You know how to tie a hog, don't you? I'm not taking any chances this time."

"Aw, c'mon," said Reno, "that aint necessary…"

"Reno." Tseng's sharp eyes fixed him. He stood up straight. "Do you have a problem with my orders?"

"To have a problem with your orders…I'd have to work for you. Wouldn't I?"

Tseng almost smiled.

Salvador returned from the back with a long spool of rope, but first, he stood in front of Reno, regarding him. Then he nodded once, approvingly.

"I don't know who the hell you are, compadre," he said, "but if you want to help keep this town safe, I, too, have something for you."

He reached into a pocket of his shirt, and took out a large silver star, similar to the gold star that adorned the right side of his leather vest.

AN: Fun fact: Rude's name, as revealed here, is (as you might have known) its literal transliteration from Japanese. I have no reason to suspect they didn't mean it to be Rude, but still.