Before Crisis: The Beginning

By DarkAngel

Disclaimer: Square-Enix owns it all. The concept of Winter Day is owned by Reno Spiegel, who writes some pretty nifty Turk!fic.

Chapter 26: Tales of the Lovelorn

Streetlamps illuminated the Mako city in shades of cool blue. There was a brisk chill in the air, cold enough that one could see their breath when they exhaled. It was the holiday season, getting close to Winter Day and the end of year celebrations. There was a slight bounce in the steps of even the most hardened of Midgar's denizens as they went about their daily business; the prospect of a week long holiday after a gruelling year helped to take the edge of even the most cynical of souls.

Even at this hour, Rafe could hear the laughter and carousing of the city's residents as they went floated from party to party. He could smell the food from some enterprising outdoor stalls still doing business at this hour. Right now in the slums, he knew that Don Corneo and his retinue would be down at the Honeybee Inn, drinking sparkling champagne that in all likelihood cost more than all the houses of the slum dwellers in that sector put together. A part of him ached to be there right now, instead of where he was… where he had been for the last few nights.

It had come down to which of them were staying in Midgar and which of them were not. While Turks didn't really get holidays, per se, they were allowed to get some time off in the quieter moments between jobs. And AVALANCHE had been eerily quiet since the incident with the stolen SOLDIER disk. Rosalind had gone home to visit her family. The other Turks were on standby, which basically meant that they were doing things like patrols, office work, and some bodyguard duty. Investigations about AVALANCHE's whereabouts and activities, were of course, still being carried on, but the sense of urgency had dimmed a little. Perhaps it had something to do with dealing with them on a daily basis. It was amazing what a person could get used to.

Reno seemed perfectly happy to spend his evenings patrolling Sector 8. This sector was the only one regularly patrolled by the Turks. Rafe knew it was down to tradition; that the Shin-Ra Company's soldier units patrolled the other areas. There was an unspoken agreement, uneasy though it might have been, between the two units that they would stick to their respective assignments, never the twain to meet. Politics and negotiation were things Rafe was well acquainted with, but right now he almost wished there was a little scuffle to take his mind off things. Too much free time always made him uncomfortable.

Even as Rafe finished this thought, Reno stuck his hands in his pockets, looking mightily satisfied. He glanced at Rafe, then stretched his neck back over to Rude, who was following some paces behind his partner. "Looks like we're done for today," Reno called cheerfully. He whistled a holiday tune in a low key, blue-green eyes raking the street. Finding everything to be in order, he continued. "Let's go home, Rude."

Rude had been quiet the entire day. Of course, there was nothing unusual in the big man being quiet; he rarely spoke unless he had a reason to, and even then he wasn't the most eloquent of elocutionists. Still, one thing Rafe had always been able to do was read people, and Rude's quietude had little to do with his customary habit of silence. Something was distracting him, as it had been for the last few days.

And just as he had done the other days, Rude excused himself, saying he had something to do that night. There was a flash of disappointment in Reno's eyes (just like always), followed by the quick adoption of that cheerful mask: It's no biggie, big guy. Whatever you want. And always the same words: "Is that so… Well, I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

Rude's preoccupation was why Rafe hadn't had a good game of poker or dice for weeks. He was refusing to spend any time with his fellow Turks outside of what was necessary. Even as he watched Rude make his awkward goodbye, he wondered just what was bothering the guy, and more importantly, how much longer this was going to carry on. It wasn't as though he didn't get along with the other Turks, but Rude was the closest to being a friend out of all of them. Perhaps it was because he had been the one to recruit him. Or perhaps because their natures were similar. Either way, Rafe couldn't help but feel concerned.

"Weird," Reno muttered, slouching. Maybe it was the sharp gust of wind that whistled along the alley they were standing in, or maybe this was his way of expressing his discontent with Rude's actions. Rafe said nothing, watching Reno out of the corner of his eye. The redhead was as transparent as glass; sooner or later he'd do something. The only thing Rafe didn't know yet was what that was.

"Rude's been taking off like that for a while now," Reno continued. His eyes narrowed.

"Yeah…" Fishing in his pockets for a cigarette, he found the carton, slightly crushed, along with his lighter. Offering the box to Reno, he only shrugged when the redhead refused. Honestly, it wasn't his problem. Sure, he was worried about Rude, but whatever it was would resolve itself sooner or later… probably.

"We've got to look into this," Reno declared, eyes suddenly lighting up, his posture straightening by a few centimetres. There was a twitch that grew into a grin that lifted up the corners of Reno's mouth. He clapped his hands together, rubbing them gleefully. Rafe decided then and there that whatever Reno was planning, he wanted no part of it. Before he could say anything to that effect, though, Reno was dashing off down the street to who knows where.

Rafe watched Reno go, sighing around his cigarette. Well, if that's what he wanted to do, then that was fine by him. As for Rafe himself, he was going to head home and maybe try to catch a movie on late night TV. At least it would be warm.

His PHS rang. Rafe picked up.

"It's mission time, Rafe." Rafe narrowed his eyes. He gave some thought to just ignoring Reno or hanging up before dismissing the idea: a mere hang-up wasn't going to stop him – he'd probably just hit redial; and hanging up on one's superior, even if it was Reno, wasn't in his best interests. With a small exhalation of breath that could almost be called a sigh, Rafe replied.

"Your orders are to tail Rude and see what he's up to." Reno's voice was almost sing-song, and that in itself spelled nothing less than trouble.

"Are you serious?" He wasn't serious, was he? Rafe grimaced. This was so not his thing.

"I'm counting on you Rafe." Click. The line went dead. Bastard. Rafe sighed. Well, now that he had received his 'orders', there was only one thing he could do. With another sigh, Rafe eyed the path Rude had gone down. Midgar was a huge place. There was no telling where Rude might have gone…

Coming out onto a main street, Rafe looked around. Of course there was no sign of Rude. He hadn't expected there to be. There were, however, a few people milling around: a couple giggling over something in a store display window; a lone woman in a dress; a man in a suit talking on his PHS. Rafe approached the woman.

"Excuse me, miss?"

The woman glanced up at him, her eyes wary. She clutched her bag just a little bit tighter, her knuckles going white from the pressure. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for a guy that might have gone by this way. He's a big guy, wearing a suit and black sunglasses. His head's shaved."

The woman shook her head. "Sorry. Haven't seen anyone like him." The wary look in her eyes was still there. Rafe didn't give it much thought; he was used to looks like that. Shrugging, he moved up the street without another word.

The street broke into three directions from here. Rafe's brows knitted together. Running a hand through his hair, he gave another sigh. He hadn't even been at it for fifteen minutes and already he was dead tired. His hand slid to cover his eyes. What the hell is Reno doing, anyway? If this is so damned important to him, why isn't he tracking Rude down? He could hear Samantha laughing at him in his mind, the word 'sucker' tauntingly thrown at him, and gritted his teeth.

Okay. So the road split off into three directions. He tried asking a few more people in the area, but they hadn't seen Rude either. This was getting him nowhere. Damn it all, he was going home. Let Reno deal with it, it was his problem.

He was just turning around, heading for the nearest station when he heard the scream. A woman's; high pitched and filled with terror. Rafe's ears perked. The scream had come from the western end. Turning around, he ran.

"Somebody! Somebody help me!"

Rafe found them. A tall but lanky man in a cutter shirt and a woman in a green dress. The guy had one hand braced against the brick wall of the building behind the woman's head, the other hand gripping her elbow. And the woman was trying to escape, moving her head away from the man, who was slurring something at her, no doubt an invitation of some kind. She looked thoroughly disgusted and terrified. Rafe sighed. He'd seen this kind of thing often; often it had been his own ex-comrades who had done it. It wasn't that he thought it was morally reprehensible, but his job description now included the protection of citizens who were being harassed by unsavoury or dangerous elements. Taking one hand out of his trouser pocket, Rafe taped the guy on the shoulder. "Hey."

The woman's face flooded with relief and now, annoyance. "Oh thank Shiva! Can you get this guy off of me? He can't understand the word 'no'."

The would be Lothario whipped around. "Who the hell are you? Can't you see I'm trying to pick somebody up here?!" His breath stank of alcohol. Rafe took a step back.

Seeing Rafe's action as retreat, the man lurched forward, fist flying haphazardly in the general direction of Rafe's face. The man stumbled, and Rafe kicked out, sending his 'opponent' sprawling onto the pavement. The man got up, ready to take another shot at him, but Rafe had taken out his handguns, and drunk or not, the guy knew better than to mess with a guy who was armed. He spat on the pavement instead.

"Damn it! This isn't over! Don't think you've won!"

Watching him turn tail and run, Rafe shook his head. Behind him, the woman spoke, her voice tremulous. "Thank you so much… Could I ask you your name…?"

"I'm not someone worth knowing," he replied coolly. Making sure his handguns were tucked away safely, he turned around. "It was no problem." He cocked his head. "I do have a question for you, though. Have you seen a big guy in a black suit? He was wearing shades and his head was shaved." He made a gesture over his own head to elucidate. At his description, the woman nodded, smiling.

"Yes, I did see someone like that." Her voice was happy, eager even. Rafe wondered what there was to be so thankful for. He had just been doing his job, after all…

"Do you know which way he went?"

"Toward the east. He seemed like he was in a hurry."

"Thanks." Rafe stuck his hands in his pockets once more and changed his direction. East, then.

"Oh, no. I'm just grateful I could be of help," the woman called after him. If Rafe were the type, he would have rolled his eyes. He wasn't good at dealing with damsels in distress…

He made his way down the streets, going in a generally easterly direction. Every now and then he stopped to check he was on the right track by asking passers-by whether they'd seen Rude. He got a few more affirmative answers, which made him feel confident that he was getting closer. He'd just turned the corner when he bumped into somebody.

"I've been waiting for you. Payback, for earlier."

It was the man from before. Rafe looked around. And he'd brought backup. They closed ranks, leaving just enough space for him and the man.

"I've brought some buddies this time. Let's go, boys!"

Three against one. And if his guess was right, these two had been waiting for their leader all along, which meant… Rafe's eyes narrowed. It was a good thing he'd rescued that woman. He'd seen this kind of thing, too.

Taking his handguns out, he whirled around, spreading his arms out so he was locked onto two of them. The leader's eyes widened.

"You wouldn't –"

"Don't assume," Rafe said. Assumptions were the mother of all fuckups. He closed his eyes. "Poison!"

All three men went green – literally – as the energy from the Materia seeped through their pores and into their system. "Don't move," Rafe murmured lowly. "That'll only make the poison work faster. And you don't want that." He clicked the safety off his weapons. "If you are going to move it'd better be to the nearest hospital or potions shop. That might just save you."

Nobody moved for nearly a full minute. It was clear the men were deciding whether to carry on attacking Rafe or get the hell out of there. Rafe's eyes narrowed; his fingers steady. If they chose the wrong move, he wouldn't hesitate to pull the triggers.

Perhaps they could sense that; perhaps that was the deciding factor. Rafe had no way of knowing. They scattered, shouting curses at him as they ran. Rafe watched them go, a glint of amusement flashing in his violet eyes. "The potions shop isn't that way," he murmured.

Putting his guns away, he shook his head. It was back to business. East. Rude had gone east.

It wasn't easy finding Rude. He kept checking with people to make sure he was going in the right direction, but the night brought out all the weird people, and not even Rafe's reticent demeanour or his Turk suit could keep them at bay. As he disentangled himself from the grip of a woman who asked if he wouldn't rather 'come and have a good time with poopsie' he thought, not for the first time, that Reno was going to owe him big time for this.

After more questions, more weirdoes, and even one trip into the sewers, Rafe found himself all the way at the west end of the sector in a lamplit park looking for a flower vendor. Glancing at the time on his PHS, he gritted his teeth. It was almost 1 in the morning. It was just as well he didn't have anything big to do the next day (except another patrol with Reno and Rude, oh the joys!) but all the same, this was the last place he wanted to be. Why had he listened to Reno? Why couldn't he have just ignored his phone?

The park was beautiful, though Rafe wasn't paying it any mind. The trees and shrubs were festooned with sparkling lights, giving the place a romantic, almost otherworldly feel. There were plenty of couples out, even at this late hour, and a few vendors. None of them looked like they sold flowers, though.

Eventually, though, his gaze picked out a woman standing in front of an empty wagon. He came to a stop in front of her, gaze flicking from her to the wagon and back again. The woman smiled at him. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm all sold out for the night."

"What is it you sell?" he asked. What was Rude after, anyway? Why did he have to run all around the city, going so far as to delve into the sewers? What was so important that night after night he went around doing whatever it was he was doing? On top of their late-running shifts, he must be exhausted. Rafe knew that he definitely was.

"Flowers," the woman said. "The finest flowers Sector 8 has to offer." She made a gesture to her empty wagon, as if to add, "As you can see." Rafe nodded.

"Did a tall guy in a black suit and sunglasses pass by here? He's got a shaved head?"

The woman clapped her hands together. "As a matter of fact, he did! He's the one that bought the whole cart." She smiled. "He's actually a regular customer of mine, though he's never bought this many at the same time before." She titled her head. "I wonder who they're for."

"Do you know where he might have gone?" Now Rafe was curious. Despite his better judgement, he found that he wanted to keep following this trail, to know more.

"He said he was going to head to the bar," the woman replied. She pointed in the direction Rude had gone.

"Thanks." Well, he'd followed the trail this far. And damn Reno, he really wanted to know what Rude was doing now.

The bar wasn't one of the places he or any of the other Turks usually haunted. The place was tucked into a corner of a little cul-de-sac. It was a nice little place with a friendly, warm looking light pouring out softly from the windows. Rafe put his hand on the door. Was Rude in here?

As soon as he entered, he stopped in his tracks. His mind yelled at him to hide; Rude would definitely not appreciate seeing him here, like this. Spotting a small space between two thickly-leaved potted plants, Rafe thanked the gods above as he took his refuge.

Rude looked as relaxed as he'd ever seen the man get. Perhaps it was the company he was keeping: a woman with long, dark hair that seemed to shift from brown to almost grey depending on how she moved her head. She was laughing at something Rude was saying, and Rafe, despite himself, found that he was inching just that littlest bit closer to try and catch what was being said.

"…my favourite flowers. You remembered." The woman looked pleased. Ah. There were the flowers Rude had bought, a whole bouquet of them, as big as a sheep. It was a wonder they could converse at all; the flowers took up so much space on the bar counter that Rafe couldn't even see the woman behind them. Rude didn't seem bothered in the least, though.

"It was a coincidence. A flower vendor pushed them onto me…" Rude's low rumble was hesitant, almost shy. It wasn't as though he hadn't heard conversations like this before, but Rafe was suddenly very aware that he was intruding on a very private moment. Resisting the urge to squirm, he kept his ears open… though at this point he wasn't sure what he was doing here, and the only thing he was absolutely sure of was that Reno really was going to owe him big for this.

The woman chuckled, tossing her hair. "Oh? A coincidence… Even so, I'm happy." There was silence, and Rafe peeked through a small gap in the greenery. Rude was staring down at the bar. The lighting was dim, so Rafe certainly couldn't tell, but he could imagine Rude was blushing. Okay. This was too much. Rafe began to think of how he could possibly extricate himself from his current position and make his way toward the exit without being seen.

"Chelsea…"

So the woman's name was Chelsea. Interesting. Rafe started to get up from his crouch but immediately hunched down again when Rude's head came up. Rude's voice rumbled across the bar to Rafe's hiding spot.

"Don't tease."

Reno was going to pay.

Chelsea laughed, tossing her hair again. She reached an arm out, letting it land on Rude's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice amused but warm. Rafe stifled a groan. Talk about awkward. How the hell was he going to look Rude in the face tomorrow?

Two hours later

Rafe's legs had long ago lost any feeling. Having found no avenue of escape, he'd stayed crouched behind the potted shrubs, watching Rude and his companion converse. Right now they were laughing over something Rude had encountered on one of his missions – not any of the classified stuff – Rude knew better than that, but one of Reno's many antics. Rafe rolled his eyes. He'd been there when it had happened. It had taken weeks for Reno's eyebrows to make an appearance again.

Chelsea's hand was covering her mouth, and she shook her head. "Is that true?"

"Yeah… it's true. It sounds like a lie, but it's true…" Rude looked pleased with himself. Rafe had never heard Rude speak as much as he was doing now, not in all the months he'd known him. The woman was pulling a miracle out of her hat here without even trying. If only Reno could see this now…

"How about your work?" Chelsea raised her wine glass to her mouth. "Have you been busy lately?"

"No…" Rude took a sip from his own glass. A double whiskey on the rocks.

Chelsea reached over to take Rude's hand. The flowers had been moved to a vase the barkeep had thoughtfully provided, and now decorated the end of the counter. Her voice was soft, concerned. "Take care of yourself. Don't tire yourself out."

"…you don't have to worry about it." Then, seeming to realize that he sounded a bit too abrupt, added "…but thank you." Chelsea didn't seem offended; it seemed she was used to this. She only shook her head, giving Rude's hand a squeeze before she moved.

"I had fun tonight. But I should get going now."

Rude stood up too. He gestured to the door. "I'll see you home."

Chelsea shook her head. "I'm fine by myself."

But Rude would have none of it. "I want to see you home," he said. Chelsea looked up at him, her mouth parted, an expression of surprise on her face. Then she smiled, laughing. Taking his proffered arm, they began to move toward the exit.

All Rafe's internal panic stations were on. The shrubbery wasn't that thick, and Rude, with his height, was bound to see over it. He couldn't imagine what the other man's reaction would be to finding his junior crouched like a peeping tom in the proverbial bushes. Briefly he wondered if he'd kept his medical insurance up to date.

But they passed him by, the door opening and shutting before Rafe could do anything. Rafe breathed out, feeling slightly dizzy; he'd been holding his breath the entire time. Thank Shiva Rude hadn't spotted him. After several attempts at standing up (his legs were going fast from the numb stage to the pins and needles stage), he hobbled out of the bar and leaned against the wall.

Damn. He'd seen too much. And now he felt guilty and awkward. The truth was, he'd never seen Rude look that happy before. But he had this horrible feeling that had been gnawing at him from the moment he'd spotted Rude and Chelsea in that bar, and the feeling was only making itself clear to him now.

It was the feeling that said that whatever happiness Rude had found, it couldn't possibly last. Sooner or later, something would come along to smash it to pieces.

Author's Notes: Wow. This whole bit correlates roughly to the first section of Episode 6 in Before Crisis. I can't believe it came out as fast as it did, or as easily. I chose Rafe for this chapter because I've hardly used him at all in the story so far, and he is the most reticent and closed-off of all the newbie Turks we've come across so far. I just wanted to see how he'd handle himself in this situation, and I was a bit surprised at the results. Pleasantly. :)

Anyway, lemme know what you think, yeah?