I've gotten some positive feedback on my Reno, which is exciting. Given his relatively small part in the game, I may be taking a few liberties as far as his character goes, but I'm trying to keep him as close to cannon as possible. He's definitely got a mean streak, and it's only going to get worse...
For What It's Worth – Chapter Two
The whole of sector seven seemed to be deserted as Tifa stepped out of her bar and locked the door behind her. Without sunlight to warm the air, the slums in winter were always substantially colder than anywhere above the plate. A perfect situation for Shinra, Tifa thought bitterly. They're free to gouge us, 'cause there isn't a damn thing we can do about it. As a member of AVALANCHE, paying a monthly bill to the company she was trying to ruin was particularly demoralizing.
True to his word, Reno had arranged for her power to be turned back on, and she had woken up that next morning to the soft hum of warm air circulating through the apartment attached to her bar. A necessary evil… she reminded herself.
She quickly reached the outskirts of Wall Market and willed herself not to look back over her shoulder. The last thing Tifa needed was to glance around as if she were hiding something. With that uneasy feeling of leaving her back completely exposed and vulnerable, she trudged through the heart of the small town, ignoring the whistles and catcalls along the way. Tifa had yet to find anywhere sleazier than this section of the slums ruled by Don Corneo.
The weapons shop came into view, and the brunette picked up her pace, eager to get out of the cold. She opened the door and walked up to the metal fencing that separated her from the man sitting behind the counter.
"Tifa!" the man yelled in surprise. "What the hell are you doing out here? We're still coming by this week, yeah?"
"Change of plans, Barret," she said, keeping her voice low as she shook her head. "I was thinking we could head over to Jessie's instead."
The man rested his gun-arm on the counter while pretending to look through some weapons manuals. "I can let everyone know. You got problems?" he asked seriously.
Tifa looked over the weapons on display. The store had gotten in a new pair of metal knuckles: her weapon of choice. But she knew if push came to shove with Reno, fighting with her fists would be a little too conspicuous. "Picked up a stray…" the bartender murmured, as her gaze stopped on the firearms.
Barret leaned forward, closing the book. "A stray, huh? The kind that wears a uniform, or the kind that wears a suit?"
Her mind went immediately to an image of the Turk, and Tifa frowned. Reno's wrinkled jacket and untucked, half-open shirt annoyed her almost as much as his smart-ass mouth. "I suppose if you use a very loose interpretation of the word 'suit'…"
"Fuck," the man swore softly. "The random patrols were one thing, but those guys…?"
"We'll discuss it later," Tifa said with a wave of her hand. "Right now, what I need is a gun."
Barret raised his eyebrows, but didn't question her. He simply turned and made his way to the pile of weapons in the back. The burly man was actually quite relieved. He had been trying to convince Tifa to buy one ever since her bar had been robbed, and she couldn't fight back for fear of breaking her cover.
"And make sure it's a real gun, Barret!" Tifa called from behind him. "If I pull out a little girl gun, the bad guys are going to laugh at me."
He let out a chuckle, as he turned back to her, pistol in hand. "We don't fucking sell "little girl" guns here, kid. Now this is the Quicksilver. I can make you a real good deal on it," Barret said with a wink. Tifa put a one hundred gil down payment on the counter, and he swept it into the money till. "Just get me another two whenever you can, and we'll call it even."
The brunette picked up the Quicksilver and studied it carefully. "This has to be worth at least three times that..."
"Four times, actually," Barret said, smiling. "Don't worry 'bout it. I'll just fudge the inventory a bit." He swung his gun-arm in an arc, gesturing towards the massive heap of weapons strewn across the floor. "It's not like the owner's been keepin' a detailed fucking list. He'll never miss it." He reached underneath the counter and grabbed two boxes of ammo, placing them next to Tifa's new pistol. "Besides," Barret began, as the woman began loading the bullets. "I don't think he'd mind me cuttin' you a break. He's got a soft spot for you."
"He's a good customer..." She said, concentrating on her task as she attempted to hide a blush. "I'll uh, see you at Jessie's, then. Same time."
"Yeah, Teef. I'll be there. And stay safe, alright?"
"I'm the soul of discretion…" she said as she twirled the new gun on her finger.
"Uh-huh," Barret muttered, as she left the store. "Just don't shoot off your goddamn foot…"
'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'
A frustrated Reno pushed his chair away from the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. The Turk had hit a brick wall while investigating Tifa's background. He'd known that she wasn't a Midgar native, but he couldn't find a single thing about her before her move to the city four years ago. And after establishing herself in her sector seven bar, there wasn't so much as a footnote on her record. It had taken him all of twenty minutes to put together an embarrassingly small file on her.
He shut off his terminal and picked up the folder of papers he'd printed off, as he headed out into the hallway. Reno knew he would have to dig deeper in order to find anything about her life before Midgar. That also meant "deeper" in the literal sense, as the redhead found himself traveling on the lift into the bowels of the Shinra building. Reno had never ventured into the archives, and was unsure of what to expect.
When the lift doors opened, the Turk found himself staring at a room that was obviously very large, but seemed cramped, as it was filled to capacity with shelves. There was a small desk near a bank of computers to Reno's left, and he decided that would be the place to start. The desk was impeccably neat, but there was no sign of any living person.
"Yo!" Reno called out. "Is there anyone down here?" A head popped out from behind the stacks, and the figure, laden down with books slowly made it's way to the front of the room. The archivist was a middle-aged woman whose black hair had begun to turn gray at the temples. She had it swept back into a no-nonsense pony-tail at the nape of her neck.
"Can I help you with something?" she asked politely, as she dropped her load of books onto the desk.
"God, I hope so," Reno replied, his irritation evident in his voice. "I can't find any record of this woman before she moved to Midgar a couple years ago. She's like a fucking ghost." The woman held out her hand for the file, her eyes narrowed in dislike at the Turk's language. "Her name is Tifa Lockhart," he continued, handing her the papers. "The accent makes me think she's from the west continent, but I want to check everything from Kalm to Wutai."
"Fine," the archivist said after looking briefly through the papers. "I just need you to fill out a few forms, and then I'll get back to you if I find anything."
The redhead picked up a pen and frowned. "You can't just…uh…look it up right now?" He found himself the target of a withering glare, and looked away quickly, focusing on the paperwork she'd placed in front of him.
"There are thousands of volumes down here, and you didn't exactly give me much detail to go on, did you?" The woman flipped the dossier back open. "'Age: Twenty-ish. Birthplace: Not Midgar.' And I won't even mention what you wrote under 'Distinguishing Features'…"
Reno put down the pen and ran a hand over his face tiredly. "Alright. Start with Gongaga, Nibelheim, and Rocket Town. Let me know what you come up with." She nodded curtly before turning towards the stacks, mission in hand.
'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'
As the last of her customers were finishing their drinks, Tifa found herself eyeing the clock nervously. She had been anticipating a visit from Reno for the past two days. Not knowing exactly when he'd show up had put her completely on edge. That was undoubtedly a very useful tool in the Turk's arsenal.
The remaining group of men placed some gil on their table and stood up to leave. Tifa sighed and reached her hands into the sink, fishing a glass out of the soapy water. She was resigned to the fact that she would be alone in the bar when Reno came back. The bartender was reasonably sure that was also planned.
The previous few days had yielded a decent amount of business, and she had made enough to cover the rest of the bill, but with very little left over. She'd had to make a choice between food and the new gun."Didn't feel like eating this week, anyway…" Tifa muttered under her breath.
"Talking to yourself this time?"
Tifa dropped the dish she had been holding, and it fell into the water with a splash. "Shit," she swore loudly. "Could you make some noise like a normal person?"
The redhead shrugged, letting the door close behind him. "I wasn't trying to be sneaky or anything. You must have been deep in thought, Lockhart."
She ignored him, her hands gripping the sides of the sink to keep them from shaking. The quick shot of adrenaline left her feeling drained. The bar owner took a deep, slow breath, willing herself to calm down. "The rest of the money is in that envelope. End of the counter."
Reno made his way over to the bar, and picked up the package, testing its weight before it disappeared inside the folds of his jacket. "Much obliged," he said, as he leaned forward to rest his arms on the counter.
"You're not even going to count it?"
"Nope." His mouth curled into a slow smile. "I trust you." Tifa scowled, but said nothing. She could feel the man watching her, as she neared the end of her pile of dishes. She slowed down, hoping Reno would leave before she ran out of things to do.
"What were you doing in Wall Market today?" he asked casually. The brunette finally looked up at him, and was unsurprised to find him staring at her.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You following me, Reno?"
"I already told you that we had you under surveillance."
"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" Tifa asked, genuinely curious. She pulled the plug from the sink, and watched the water drain out. "Telling someone that you're watching them, I mean."
"Not really," the Turk replied, as she began drying the dishes and putting them away. "I already followed you for two weeks without you noticing." He paused. "You were kind of boring, actually." Tifa stiffened, her mind racing through the last few weeks, trying to remember what she'd done and who she'd talked to. If Reno noticed, he didn't comment, but returned to his previous line of questioning. "I saw you head for Wall Market, but I'll admit, I lost you somewhere along the way. Shopping?"
"Yeah," she replied, her back to the Turk. "I saw a guy about a gun." Tifa reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out the Quicksilver, placing it on the bar where Reno could see it. She heard the redhead chuckle behind her.
"You plannin' to shoot somebody, Lockhart?"
Tifa turned over her shoulder and looked at Reno appraisingly. "Haven't decided yet…" She continued stacking the glasses in her cupboard, and she heard slow footsteps coming towards her. The gun scraped across the wood counter as the Turk lifted it into his left hand. He grunted in approval.
"Pretty good. But can you use it?"
The bartender smiled wryly. "Keep pushing your luck, and you might find out." Tifa heard the chamber release, and she glanced over to see the man inspecting her Quicksilver.
"Just making sure you had it loaded…" Reno said with a grin.
"You really think I'm that incompetent?" Tifa asked, shaking her head. The gun hit her counter with a heavy thunk, and she suddenly felt hands drifting lightly over her bare arms. Her muscles tensed, and she had to force herself to relax. The Turk's body was too close, and it would have been so easy to draw on her years of training to incapacitate him.
When Reno spoke, his voice was right next to her, and Tifa knew if she moved, his lips would end up brushing her ear. "I think you're a lot of things, babe. But I can promise you, 'incompetent' isn't one of them."
She rolled her shoulders back, shrugging off his hands, but she soon found them resting low on her hips instead. "Cut it out," she said, but the Turk ignored her, and pulled her body towards him until her back was flush against his chest. "Let go. I have to finish cleaning up."
"Do it tomorrow," Reno murmured, as he licked the outer shell of her ear. Tifa's body responded with a shiver, and the redhead grinned as one hand left its place at her hip to slide under the hem of her shirt.
"Stop," the bartender said firmly. She grabbed the Turk's wrist, but it had already ceased moving, and she felt him take a small step away from her.
"Turn around."
Tifa's hand tightened its grip, but otherwise she remained still. The words had been spoken with the authority of someone who was not expecting to be disobeyed. She knew he would press the issue, and there was no way he would simply let it go, but she felt frozen in place.
"Turn around, Lockhart."