Leaving Vincent to talk to Nero, Veld's first instinct was to head to the nearest bar and have a good, stiff drink.

Dammit, he was too old for this. He should be doing paperwork or yelling at interns, not cosseting trauma victims. The kid wasn't even his.

Ah, shit, that excuse wouldn't fly, and he'd kick anyone's ass who suggested it. He sighed, signaled the bartender for another shot, and downed it in one gulp. Whiskey-fire etched his veins and cleared some of the fog from his brain. He and Vincent needed to talk to some experts, see if they could come up with a way to start easing Nero into what passed for a normal life.

"Hey, boss?"

Veld turned. "Reno. Why are you still calling me 'boss'?"

"Habit." Reno took the barstool next to Veld. "Look, I wanna apologize, okay? I shouldn't have turned the lights on your kid."

"He's not my kid, Reno."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, sure. So why'd you do it?"

Reno grinned, half predator and half streetwise brat. "Kid was kickin' ass and takin' names. What else were we gonna do?"

He waved a hand at the bartender, saying no more until the man set a beer in front of him. "The guy's big guns, boss. Where you been hidin' him?"

"Classified info."

Reno snorted. "Okay, play that game. You and Valentine keep your secrets. You know we'll find out eventually."

"Until you do, that's all I'm gonna say." Veld ordered a third drink; hell, he'd earned it.

"So I heard you and Valentine are sponsoring Nero," said Reno.

Veld nodded. That wasn't a secret; half the WRO knew. He recognized probing when he heard it.

He also knew how to make use of it. "It was Vincent's idea. After the incident with the street patrol, he got concerned about Nero being at loose ends, as it were. Surface life's damn different than Deepground."

Reno snorted. "Ya think? Well, he'll figure it out."

"I suppose he will," said Veld. "Not gonna be easy, though. He's made a few wrong steps, not knowing any better. We're trying to look out for him, but we can't be with him all day and night. If he makes the cut, of course, Tseng will assign someone to ride herd on 'im."

"Yeah, Commander's good like that." Reno had a swallow of his beer, and another, brows crinkled in thought.

Another idea came to Veld through the pleasant buzz he'd built up. "Reno, do you know where Max is?"

"Nitro Express?" There was that grin again. "Yeah, she's up in the labs."

"Would you mind telling her I want to talk to her? You can send her here, I'll be staying for a while."

"Sure thing." Reno finished his beer, saluted, and sauntered off.

Ten minutes later Max blew in, all black leather and periwinkle hair. And how the hell he even knew the word periwinkle was a thought for another day.

"What's up, Turkmeister?"

Veld winced. "Sit down, Max."

"Uh-oh. What'd I do?"

"Why does everyone say that every time I say I want to talk to them?"

"Dunno." She grinned. "Must be your charm."

"Yeah, right." He considered ordering a fourth whiskey, and thought better of it. Three cleared his head; four and up would put him in Sad Old Drunk territory.

"So, how's university life?"

"It's fine. I'm acing all my classes, which you already know or you're not half the Turk you used to be."

"And you like working in the WRO labs?"

"Well, it's part of my doctorate program, but yeah. I might do an internship with Dr. Rui." She poked at his metal arm. "Someday I'm gonna make you a proper prosthetic, so lifelike you can't tell it from the flesh arm. One that lets you feel, Veld. For real."

He tossed back the last of his drink. "We'll see."

"Okay, so what's this really about? You didn't call me down here to talk about uni."

"Fair enough. Max, I'm going to assume you heard about what happened in the training arena today."

She nodded, but said nothing. Good; nosy, but discreet. The girl was a contradiction in terms, but okay.

"You seemed to like Nero," he said.

"Yeah. He's nice. A little awkward, but it's kinda sweet." She winked. "You setting us up, Veld?"

"Max." She smirked, and he shook his head. "He doesn't scare you?"

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "It's more like he's scared, Veld. Not of me, but everything else? It's like he just landed from another planet and he's trying to learn the language and the customs, but nothing makes sense. You know?"

He thought about that, and about the vague idea that had formed in his weary brain.

"Max, you need to understand that he's actually very dangerous. He's incredibly powerful. He could hurt you without trying, even make you disappear into shadow. You could be lost for good."

"You trying to frighten me off? Because it won't happen." Max leaned against the bar, legs crossed, one clunky black boot jiggling. "My dad was a SOLDIER. Mom worked with Hojo, saw him go off the rails. I know from danger, Mister Chief-Turk-and-Shinra-Wrangler. I don't scare easy."

"Max, I'm serious. This isn't something you can just throw bravado at."

"I'm serious, too. Nero's an enigma, but he's also a person. He's just a boy without a family or any friends, except you and Vin, and isn't that a recipe for more crazy? I mean, Vin tries, but his head's not always screwed on tight. And you-"

Veld's eyebrow rose. "Yes? Me?"

She patted his hand. "You're a good guy, Veld, but you'd put the fear of Alexander into a king behemoth, just by breathing in its vicinity. You scare people. I don't."

"Not for lack of trying," he muttered, but she had a point. Vincent was an emotional wreck more often than not, and Veld himself had cultivated an air of intimidation for so long he couldn't turn it off if he wanted to.

"All right then, Maia, what do you suggest?"

She scowled at his use of her proper name, but otherwise ignored it. "I'll be his friend. I mean, if he wants me to be. He's a nice kid, he just needs some help fitting in."

"Take it slow, though, won't you? He grew up in Deepground. His normal is not the same as yours."

"Yeah. Gods, that had to be rough."

"You don't know the half of it. Nero doesn't either. To him, it was just the ways things were."

"Okay. I'll go easy. He did okay having coffee the other day. We can do things like that, and if he wants to talk about old DG, that's fine. I won't judge."

A little of the tension went out of Veld's shoulders. The girl was far from stupid, and she'd been around Shinra all her life. She could handle this. "Thank you, Max."

"You're welcome." She leaned over, kissed his cheek. "Later, Ojiichan!"

She ran out again, boots clomping like thunder on the old wooden floors. Having set a few things in motion, Veld ordered that fourth whiskey, because why the hell not?