Final Fantasy VII 1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This fic is experimental for me in many ways. It's different, but in many ways in character. I'm ignoring canon timelines. A couple of things to clarify: There is no President Shinra in this (yet anyway). It's just Mr. Shinra for now, and I've given first names to him and his wife. (I am trying to keep names intact, to if anyone knows their first names, let me know and I'll change it, but I couldn't find them.) Tseng is still head of the Turks, but he's younger here, I think, than in canon. I've made him closer in age to Reno. And obviously, Elena isn't a Turk at the beginning of this. _

_Warnings: Not for this chapter. Rating is for future chapters, which will include, among other things, mature/adult content, erotic content, violence, and general strangeness. _

_I neither own nor profit from ffvii or its characters._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

**I**

Was she supposed to be there? She had no idea. She didn't think so, but Elena had said something about an event rehearsal in a way that made her think she might have forgotten something important.

She simply couldn't remember what.

Racing through her morning routine, Tifa threw on the first clothes she found in her closet, which turned out to be a very simple pair of black slacks and a fitted, button down black and white striped shirt. Catching sight of herself the mirror as she raced out of her room, she figured it was at least elegant in its simplicity.

There was no way she was taking her bike out in this traffic, but getting to the performance center wasn't a problem with the shuttles that ran across town. The problem was getting across the lot, cursing her high heels as she ran, and through the performance center and back stage, where she hoped she wouldn't be too late for whatever Elena had been reminding her about.

Too late. Elena was already on stage assisting one of the performance groups as they set up for their act. Tifa circled around the stage, just managing to avoid getting trampled by what was apparently another act, and found a woman standing on a small portable staircase overlooking the stage. She looked as in charge as anyone, so Tifa approached.

"Excuse me. I'm Tifa Lockhart. I was wondering about the schedule for this morning. Are there many acts left for the dress rehearsal?"

The woman glanced down at her. Oh, yeah, she was in charge. It was written all over her strict, drawn face, which was plastered with what. Tifa was positive, was expensive designer make-up.

"All of our acts are accounted for. This is the last we need to prepare for. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to…"

"Mrs. Shinra, you have a phone call." A young girl scampered forward, cell phone extended.

The woman heaved a sigh. "I really don't have time for this." Yet she took the phone.

"Constance Shinra speaking." She listened for a moment, holding one bejeweled hand over the receiver as she muttered a curse under her breath. Finally she took her hand away, and spoke forcefully into the receiver.

"I'll send the information right over."

Flipping the phone closed, she glanced back at her assistant, who looked like a mouse caught in a trap.

"I need someone to deliver something upstairs immediately." The girl took a step back. "You do realize," Mrs. Shinra huffed, "that you are totally useless. I don't know why I keep you around. Find someone. NOW."

Tifa was feeling sorry for the young girl, and there was no need for this hostile treatment; not if it was just about getting something from point A to point B.

"I can do it," she volunteered.

Mrs. Shinra looked down at her from her perch, clearly perplexed.

"Excuse me?"

"If it's just delivering something, I can take care of it for you. I'm here. I might as well make myself useful."

"What's your name, young lady?" Apparently she hadn't been paying attention the first time.

"Tifa. Tifa Lockhart."

The woman stared down her nose at tifa, considering, her cheeks drawn tight, her posture rigid, then gave one distinct, decisive nod. Mousy-girl disappeared for a moment and came back with paper and a pen, handing it to Mrs. Shinra, who wrote quickly and efficiently and folded the paper twice and handed it to Tifa.

"I need you to deliver this to Mr. Shinra. He should be in one of the upper suites. He has many guests attending. You'll have to find him. You need to be as quick as possible, and you are not to look at the content. Will that be a problem?"

"No, no problem at all," Tifa promised as she accepted the folded paper. Heading across the back stage area, she heard Mrs. Shinra call after her.

"If you can handle this task, Miss. Lockhart, there may be a job for you if you're interested."

She nodded back, smiling, excited. She needed something better than her current planning/catering/waitressing-on-the-side-when-things-got-rough job, and any offer was worth looking into.

* * *

Tifa's path was clear until she hit the top floor, which was a mess of people, some of which were hurrying here and there, obviously working, and others simply milling around, guests by the look of them. Tifa suspected, as she took in her surroundings that there wasn't a suit on the floor that wasn't designer of some kind.

She chose the busiest suite first. More people made it more like she would find Mr. Shinra, or that someone might be able to point her in the right direction. As she approached, a man in a dark suit cut her off.

"Can I help you?"

His appearance had deceived her; he was young, practically too young, and extremely handsome, his features lean and sharp, his eyes dark and intense, and all framed by a curtain of jet hair, which disappeared from view past his shoulders. But on second look, she had no doubt he was security of some type. It was in his posture, in the set of his features, in the hard, intense focus of his dark eyes. Newly aware, Tifa took another look around, and found other men spaced out in the crowd who appeared similarly, and knew that though others might not notice it, there was security everywhere.

"I'm looking for Mr. Shinra. I have a message for him." She held up the note, but when he reached out to take it from her, she withdrew it quickly, and put it in her pocket, holding it securely there.

"I'm supposed to deliver it to him personally."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she caught the quick glance over her shoulder. Instinctively, she knew he was making contact with another member of security, but she didn't dare look, bracing herself instead, in the event that whoever it was might be approaching from behind.

The man in front of her turned and gestured for her to follow.

"He's in the Platinum Suite. If you'll follow me." He was walking away, and Tifa took a second to turn back to see who he might have been looking at. There was no one near her, or looking in her direction, but she immediately picked out the man it must have been. All she could see of him was long, straight red hair falling down his back, and as he turned his head slightly, she saw that one side was shaved partially off. He turned just enough to glance back at her, and she caught the twinkle in his bright green eyes and the hint of a smile before he turned away.

She turned quickly back to the task at hand. Her security guard was waiting for her, his face completely blank, but he didn't say anything, simply preceding her down the hall and into another suite where he led her to a large, older man in a gray pinstriped suit that she probably couldn't afford with her entire years salary.

"Mr. Shinra," the guard said, "This woman says she has a message for you."

Mr. Shinra turned the full weight of his gaze on Tifa, and she held out the note she had been entrusted with. He took the paper, opening it, eyes still on her, and then flicking to read the note, and then back on her.

"Did you read this?"

"No, sir."

He weighed the honesty of her response and then nodded his head, a gesture that was remarkably to his wife's.

"Please wait here a moment."

He held a hand out and a pen appeared in his palm as if by magic. In fact, he owed it to the security guard who had led her into the room, who then turned so Mr. Shinra could use the flat plane of his back to write a response. Finished writing, he folded the paper back over and passed it to Tifa.

"Please return this to Constance. I expect discrepancy and speed."

The young security guard looked as if he might protest, but kept whatever he was thinking to himself. Mr. Shinra smiled, amused at his expression.

"Don't worry, Tseng. I'm sure Ms…?" He referenced her, waiting for her to provide the answer.

"Lockhart. Tifa."

"Ms. Lockhart Tifa is more than capable of this errand."

Tseng, whom at least had a name now, bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, and stepped back to allow Tifa to leave.

As she walked out, she noticed the man with red hair again, along with a couple of other men she was sure were security, and it was clear their task at the moment was to keep an eye on her. A jacket fell open on Red, and there was a flash of metal from within, and Tifa couldn't tell if it had been coincidental or if he had done it on purpose, and there was nothing in his casual, nonchalant expression that gave it away.

They were dangerous. That much was perfectly clear, in the way they moved, in the way they watched her, in their demeanor, even when they were standing still.

Tifa refused to let the knowledge show. She refused to cower to them. Back straight, her focus completely on her responsibility, Tifa quickly, yet not too quickly, exited the room, surprised when they neither stopped nor followed her.

Mrs. Shinra seemed surprised to see her, and even more so when Tifa handed her the note with a completely calm expression on her face.

"Any trouble?" she asked as Tifa approached.

"Not at all." She passed the note. "Mr. Shinra asked me to deliver this."

Mrs. Shinra studied Tifa skeptically as she accepted the response.

"You didn't have any trouble with the Turks?"

"Turks? What are Turks?"

Little assistant girl in the corner gasped and covered her mouth, a look of sheer disbelief across her face.

"They're my husband's security. They've been known to give my girls a…difficult time." She spared a glance for the now quivering form of her assistant, whose disbelief had turned to horror. She was nodding frantically.

"It makes it very difficult to hold on to people," Mrs. Shinra finished. She read the paper with a careless attitude, nodded once, and folded it up, passing it off to her assistant as she eyed Tifa once more.

"You're hired. I will be in touch."


	2. Chapter 2

_Tifa has no idea what she's gotten herself into. _

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

II

"You're hired."

Tifa hadn't necessarily believed Mrs. Shinra's parting words. Elena didn't believe it either when she heard. They had talked about it the night before, and decided it wasn't in their luck to get hired by Shinra, which was said to pay very well. Aside from Tifa having had enough of waitressing and serving drinks, Elena hated her job, keeping it only because they were desperate and there wasn't much else out there, and though they worked as a team on some freelance jobs, they weren't able to handle anything big enough to actually cover the bills they shared. A job with Shinra would be considered a dream come true for both of them, but by the time Tifa went to bed, she had chalked the offer up to nothing more than and empty gesture following a grand adventure.

Tifa thought she was dreaming, which is why the pounding went on for so long. After all, she had found out that Elena had never said anything to her about an important task the day before. Tifa had dreamed that, so she wasn't going to trust anything she heard while she was more than half asleep. If it was real, if someone was pounding on their door, Elena could get it.

When the noise persisted, Tifa glanced at the clock and realized that Elena wouldn't be answering the door; Elena had left for work over an hour ago. Stumbling out of the bed, hoping this wasn't a waking dream, Tifa dragged herself across the apartment, pushing the stray strands of hair out of her face as she went and checking the shorts and t-shirt she slept in to make sure she was at least half-way decent.

She opened the door to a fist that was again set to pound on the wood.

She didn't know the man at the door, but, in general, she knew who he was: A Turk. If his suit and demeanor didn't give him away, the clear view of the gun he was wearing did. Short, dark hair hung straight around his head, stark against pale skin, the bangs too long on one side, obscuring the view of one dark eye. He stared at her blankly, as if he hadn't been pounding on the door for the past ten minutes, looking about as bored as was humanly possible.

"Mr. Shinra has requested your presence."

Tifa was gaping, and had to think about it to make her jaw snap closed. He watched her patiently, expectantly, and she wondered if he thought she was going to go with him in as she was dressed, in the clothes she slept in.

Oh wait. Was that what she was supposed to do? That would be ridiculous, and she didn't think so, but better safe to ask.

"Do I have a few minutes to get showered and dressed?"

He blinked, but gave nothing away in his expression.

"Mr. Shinra doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Then maybe Mr. Shinra should have given me notice that I was on call." She opened the door wider and gestured the Turk into the apartment, leading him to the kitchen and pulling out a chair for him.

"There's coffee in the machine. Tea's in the cabinet there. Sugar is on the counter. Give me fifteen minutes."

She raced through her morning routine, every moment conscious of the fact that a strange man was in the apartment with her, a man she knew was dangerous. She hoped the fact that Mr. Shinra wanted to see her would keep her safe from his Turks.

Eight minutes saw her in and out of the shower. It would have been much shorter if not for the length of her hair, which she swore every time she was in a hurry she was going to cut. Towel drying the excess water out of it, she combed it out quickly and pulled it up into a ponytail. That was as good as it was going to get without time to dry it. She threw on a long black skirt that tapered at mid-calf and a red blouse that was a perfect combination of business and femininity. It was an outfit she had purchased for the few nights she had to work the front desk at the restaurant. Ditching the stockings, she pulled on a pair of heels that she hoped she wouldn't regret later. She didn't know what Mr. Shinra was expecting, but she was going to appear before him in as professional a manner as possible with fifteen minutes to make it happen.

Fourteen minutes after opening the door, she re-entered her kitchen to find the Turk standing exactly where she had left him, watching the door, waiting for her return. Had he even twitched while she was out of sight?

Whatever he saw when she rounded the corner got a reaction from him when there had been none before. He scanned her from head to toe and back again with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Tifa ignored him, walking straight past to the door, yanking it open and gesturing him through ahead of her.

"I thought Mr. Shinra didn't like to be kept waiting."

* * *

What was this place? The Turk, who had swaggered out the door ahead of her, clearly amused by her attitude, now held another door open for her. The room beyond was full of people, and Tifa wasn't sure what to make of it at first. A bar? No, not really. Perhaps a club? There were people milling about, everyone with a drink in their hand, it seemed, dressed to the nines. There was a counter on the left wall, which he bypassed completely, plush carpeting on the floor, and a few potted plants around the edges of the room.

It smelled like money.

There were other Turks in the crowd, on the outskirts, all seeming far too casual and far too dangerous at the same time. Some clearly looked the part of bodyguard, silent sentinels dispersed within the crowd, while others milled about as if they were there to enjoy the party. Or whatever this was. She noted the familiar faces she had seen in her previous encounter, a tall, thin man with dark wavy hair, sun glasses perched on his nose, but not covering his startling blue eyes, an arrogant sneer across his face; a girl, long, light auburn hair falling pin straight around an intensely serious face; and one whose face she couldn't see, but recognized none-the-less by the waist-length red hair, and who was talking to a young girl who seemed to be the source of some momentary pleasure. On his way across the room, a man walked by close behind him, drawing his attention, and in an oh-so-natural and casual gesture, the red-haired Turk turned, tracking the passer-by. Within an instant, his expression went from flirtatiously playful to scoping a possible target.

Then, as quickly, his gaze flicked to Tifa. It was fleeting, nothing more than an acknowledgement, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression, and his lip quirked up on one side as he nodded to her. The second passed, the Turk blending back into the crowd, and Tifa was left to catch up with her escort.

Tifa followed through the crowd, across the room to a large doorway which Tifa could see led to another room, slightly larger. On high alert, Tifa's nerves slowly frazzled as people brushed up against her on every side. It felt almost as if they were doing it on purpose.

As she passed, she caught snippets of conversations here and there. "I heard he's completely mad." That from an older woman making a lousy attempt to talk under her breath to her companion, another older woman who was wearing a hat that could have done with a few less feathers and a slightly less garish color. "I can't believe they let him out of his cage." Tifa turned to find a new speaker, a Turk muttering to her partner, who responded "yeah, and lucky us; we get to baby-sit him." There was no indication who they were talking about, but Tifa figured it was only a matter of time before she found out.

Tseng emerged from the other room as they approached the door, exactly, picture-perfect, the way Tifa remembered him. Right down to the last straight, dark wisp of hair in its place. Her Turk escort nodded at Tseng.

"Am I done here?"

"Not quite. I would like you to stay with Ms. Lockhart. Mr. Shinra wants to make sure she is well taken care of."

"Yes sir." He didn't look or sound happy about it, but if Tifa got anything from the exchange, it was that Turks followed orders, and it was clear that Tseng was somewhere up on the chain of command.

Tseng nodded his approval, eyeing the man critically before turning his attention back to Tifa.

"Mr. Shinra has asked that you provide company to a gentleman who is among Shinra's most important personnel." Tifa noted what she thought to be a flicker of distaste cross the Turks face as he spoke of this illustrious employee, even through the straight, unemotional façade.

"Ah, there you are Tseng." Turning to see who was behind the voice, she knew this was the man Tseng had been speaking of. Except for a couple of girls hanging on the man, girls Tifa was sure were of questionable repute based on their apparel and behavior, the rest of the crowd gave him a wide berth despite his expensively tailored suit.

He wasn't a horrible looking man; middle aged with graying hair, neatly manicured, impeccably dressed in his dark gray suit, and relatively fit. His presence, however, sent a chill of warning down her spine, setting off an internal alarm that blared danger and mistrust at her.

"Professor Hojo. I'd like you to meet Tifa Lockhart, the young lady Mr. Shinra mentioned earlier."

The professor extended his hand and Tifa, out of sheer politeness, returned the gesture despite her discomfort with his leer, and when he raised her hand to his lips, it was all she could do not to wrench her arm back from his possession. His lips lingered far past what might be considered genteel, and Tifa wondered if his lack of manners would make it acceptable for her to wipe her hand off on a napkin, if she could find one. The girl hanging on the man's shoulder lowered her eyelids, giving Tifa a once over, and when she met Tifa's eyes, it was with an expression that almost guaranteed she had been thinking wickedly lascivious thoughts.

A slight tremor whispered through her frame.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

Claiming her hand back, she turned to Tseng.

"Excuse me, but I need to speak with you. This is not what I…"

"Such a timid little thing," Professor Hojo interrupted. "You know how I like them innocent." He had stepped closer. "Perhaps," he whispered, lifting one hand to trace a finger down her cheek, "you aren't aware of how this works. You do work for Mr. Shinra, do you not?" He didn't give her time to answer before agreeing for her. "Yes, I thought so. And if you work for Mr. Shinra, you must meet his every expectation and demand, and his expectation this afternoon is that you spend your time with me."

His hand circled her arm, just above the elbow, with a grip that sent a distinct message not to protest. Tseng stepped aside as the professor directed her into the next room, also large and spacious, but with a bar that ran the entire length of one wall and tables set about what Tifa guessed was supposed to be a dance floor.

"Actually, Professor, I believe I work for Mrs. Shinra."

He huffed as he took a seat at a table, snapping his fingers in the air.

"As if that really matters. What belongs to Mrs. Shinra belongs to Mr. Shinra."

A waiter appeared, tray in hand, one drink centered on it, and set it down at the Professors gestured demand.

"Bring one for the lady as well."

That last registered with Tifa, and she shook her head, waving a hand at the waiter.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm fine."

"Yes, you are." Keeping that insistent pressure on her arm, Hojo made a nearly successful attempt to pull her to sit on his knee. At Tifa's resistance, his demeanor changed, darkening, his words becoming harsh and clipped.

"Tseng," he ordered. "Perhaps you should explain to Ms. Lockhart how this is supposed to work."

Extending a hand, Tseng extracted Tifa's arm from Hojo's grip and led her a few feet away.

"You are causing quite a scene. You need to follow orders." It amazed Tifa that someone as young as Tseng displayed such authority.

"Orders? What orders? I'm not one of you."

"You work for Mr. Shinra now. That makes you one of us."

"If that's the case, maybe one of your Turks would like to sit on his lap."

"They would if they were ordered to." Either he hadn't caught on to the ludicrous nature of her comment, or he was ignoring it. The man had one hell of a poker face.

"That may be the arrangement you and your cronies have with Mr. Shinra, but I don't remember him contracting me to act the part of some…_trollop_."

Tseng stepped closer. One small, simple step and the threat became imminent. In her revulsion of her current situation, Tifa had, for one insane moment, forgotten how dangerous the Turks could be.

Lowering his voice to a bare whisper, Tseng gave his last piece of advice.

"I suggest then, Ms. Lockhart, that when you have a free moment, you discuss your arrangement with Mr. Shinra. In the meantime, it would be in your best interests to perform as expected."

He stepped back, as collected as he had been, awaiting her decision.

Tifa could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. Gaia, they were serious about this. What choices she had weren't clear, but she had a feeling that simply walking out of the room was not an option. Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, she nodded once.

"I'll do that." Circling around Tseng, she returned to the Professor and, before she could lose her resolve, perched delicately on the end of his knee.

"There. Now isn't that better?" Hojo questioned mockingly. Tifa felt her entire being shrink away as Hojo placed a hand high up on her thigh.

"Still gun-shy, I see." She could feel him staring at her, studying her. Thinking depraved thoughts about her. "He really does know how to pick the young innocent ones, doesn't he girls?" His two companions, who were still hanging all over him, cooed their agreement, turning their attention on her, one even reaching out a hand to brush her hair back over her shoulder.

"But she's pretty, Professor. There may be potential."

_Potential for what?_ The thought ran through Tifa's mind like a bullet.

"We shall see," he murmured, apparently thinking over the prospects. "Yes, we shall definitely see."

_Could this possibly get any worse? _

Tifa was immediately sorry for that last thought; before it was even complete, the situation crashed full-bore into worse.

"Let's start now," Hojo decided his course of action. "Ms. Lockhart, if you would so kindly join me on the dance floor."

As if she had a choice.


	3. Chapter 3

_Reno and Tifa finally meet. Officially. Well, in this universe, at least. Hojo? Just Ew, but it was fun to write, and I'm sure he'll be back._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

**III**

This was doable. If nothing more were expected besides a simple dance or two, it was acceptable.

Then, sliding his hand from where it rested on her waist to plant it firmly on the swell of her behind, the Professor pulled her closer, grinding their hips together, and Tifa didn't dare even joke about what else that might be in his pocket. No, she was pretty sure he was simply happy to see her, be near her. Have his grubby, disgusting hands touching her, squeezing her, molding her body to his.

Tifa began not caring how embarrassing it might be to throw up in public. In this case, it might even be worth it.

Keeping in mind her conversation with Tseng, Tifa did her best to keep a bit of distance between her and the illustrious Professor without it appearing too much of a struggle, but it became clear that the elusive space she craved wasn't going to happen, and she was forced to deal with his advances in the best way she could. When one of his female companions circled around to mold herself to Tifa's back however, she couldn't help the squeak of panic that erupted from her throat. The woman undulated in just the right way to press them all tighter together, and the claustrophobic feeling that had been quickly developing within Tifa's chest and throat threatened to completely overwhelm her.

In her state of panic, her focus narrowed dangerously, choosing select things to bring to the forefront of her mind: The leer as Professor Hojo, prattling on incessantly, commented on how good her ass felt and how she startled like a virgin at every little touch; the sensation of her pulse thrumming in her throat; the chill that had settled into her body despite the sweat she could feel collecting on her back.

The room swayed ominously in a way that had nothing to do with the dancing, and Tifa's vision dimmed dramatically, leaving her wondering for a confused moment why someone was flickering the lights.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The amused feminine voice, combined with the Professor coming to a standstill, cut through Tifa's distress. A finely manicured hand with long fingers and lethal nails painted a deep crimson around the Professor's upper arm and came to rest in the center of his chest, effectively giving Tifa some much needed, much appreciated space. Professor Hojo's eyes were immediately locked on that hand and slowly traveled the length of the arm as he released Tifa completely from his grip.

The woman at the end of that arm was nothing short of breathtaking, in a sultry, exotic way that exuded sexuality and confidence. Tifa was as mesmerized by her as Professor Hojo was, as everyone immediately surrounding them was. Her makeup was as perfect as her manicure, every stroke intended to highlight the subtle nuances of her face; the hollow cheeks beneath sharply defined delicate cheekbones with perfectly symmetrical lines of a rose-hued blush; intense kohl-lined eyes, a dark storm gray surrounded by long, thick lashes and accentuated by artfully applied shadows; full, lush lips painted to match her nails and parted just enough to show brilliantly white, even teeth. Her hair, dark, shiny auburn, was drawn back from her face in a complicated weave, the rest hanging down her back in long curls. She would be tall even without the five inch spiked heels she seemed so comfortable in, with curves in abundance to compliment her long legs and toned figure, of which there was plenty to see considering the scant amount of suede covering it.

She was perfect, Tifa thought. And then the woman spared her a glance, and the façade was shattered. Her eyes told an entirely different story from her outward appearance. It was all a mask, carefully designed to hide a jaded soul, and Tifa stepped back from her even as she insinuated herself into Tifa's spot.

"Would you mind too much if I steal him away for a spin?" She directed the question over her shoulder to Tifa. As if she needed permission. As if Tifa could find a reason not to acquiesce.

"Oh, Professor," the woman purred, "you're not looking for a replacement for me, are you?" She smoothed his tie as she raised her eyes to meet his with coy seductiveness. "I would so miss the games we play together, Darling." Her hands were tracing across his body, her nails raking through the fabric of his shirt, eliciting a hiss in response, and, as if her actions were a switch being flicked, Professor Hojo was that quickly ensnared by the act.

"Felicia." The name rolled off his tongue with a drunken slur, though Tifa was pretty sure he hadn't had nearly that much to drink. "How I've missed you. Mr. Shinra told me you were unable to attend today."

"Hmm. Plans change, Darling. I thought you might…need me."

He sagged in her arms as if just the thought were too much for him to contemplate, and she swept him into a slow sway that vaguely resembled a dance, her hands roaming his body as she did so, scratching, pinching, groping.

"Your presence is no longer required here today." Tifa swung around at the words, spoken so close to her ear. Tseng was waving a hand to some unseen person as he continued. "Reno will escort you home."

Confused, unbalanced by things moving too quickly, Tifa shook her head, her brow scrunching.

"I don't need an escort."

"That is not an option, Ms. Lockhart. Reno, Ms. Lockhart is ready to leave."

An uneasy wave of apprehension ran through her body as she recognized the Turk that materialized from the crowd, weaving through the throng with an easy, predatory grace.

"If you're ready, we're out of here, yo." Somehow, his tone matched his physical demeanor. He sounded…amused? Bored?

"But I don't need an escort," Tifa persisted.

Tseng was already walking away. Reno was the only one left for her to plead her case with.

"Really, Reno," she was grateful she had a name for the red-headed Turk, "I am perfectly capable of getting home on my own."

She was weaving a path through the crowd, determined to establish her independence, and uncaring whether or not he was still listening. Finally stepping out onto the street, she frowned to find the Turk still at her shoulder.

"I told you…"

"Yeah, I heard you, yo." He raised a pack of cigarettes to his mouth, wrapping his lips around one he had shaken loose, pulling the cigarette from the pack and taking the time to light it, slipping the lighter back in the outer wrapping of the pack and returning it to an inner shirt pocket.

"There's nothing wrong with my hearing." He shrugged, inhaling deeply and letting the stream of smoke out slowly. "Tseng says take you home, I'm taking you home."

Tifa started down the street. Screw it. If the Turk wanted to follow her home, that was his waste of time. "Hey Lockhart."

What could he possibly want? Tagging along behind her was one thing, but she did not have to entertain him with conversation, did she?

"What?" She turned, huffing impatiently, to find him standing beside a car parked along the street, holding the passenger side door open for her. How awkward would it be if she ignored him and simply turned and kept walking? To catch a train. Or bus. When she could ride home in luxury. Who was she kidding?

Relenting, rolling her eyes and her shoulders, she climbed into the car, trying to make herself as small as possible in the seat. Losing the cigarette somewhere along the way, Reno had stepped in on the driver's side and started the car when curiosity got the best of Tifa.

"Are you even old enough to drive?"

He chuckled as he pulled out into traffic, more cautious than she would have given him credit for.

"I'm a Turk. No one's gonna ask me for a license."

As if that answered her question, but she settled back in her seat, figuring that was most likely the closest thing to an answer she was going to get. She surreptitiously studied his profile as he drove. His tall lean body slouched slightly, comfortably, in the leather seat, his left leg curled up against the door. He drove with his left hand as well, the right remaining constantly on the gear shift in the center console, despite the fact that it was automatic, making Tifa question whether he was more familiar with a standard as she watched his fingers tapping out a rhythm against the gear shift. His loose hair fell over his right shoulder, only slightly concealing his face, but at a closer look she could see a tattoo high on his cheekbone.

He turned to her then, and she knew she had been staring at him, studying him too intensely. His eyes met hers, sparkling knowingly, and a lewd grin played over his lips.

"See something you like?"

Damn. How to excuse such rude behavior, Tifa wasn't sure, and she scrambled for some explanation.

"I was curious about the tattoos."

He shrugged, his attention returning to the road.

"Take a closer look."

That was it? And how did he figure she was supposed to do that when his hair was hanging over the tattoo closest to her? He wasn't offering any solution, and she sat back, wanting to forget about the embarrassing moment. But now that she had mentioned it, she really was curious about the tattoos, and her hands were itching to reach out and brush the red veil of hair back so she could look closer. What would he do if she followed through with that temptation?

There was only one way to find out. And in the end, if he didn't like it, he had no one to blame but himself; he had suggested it.

She slid over a bit in her seat, as close as she could get considering the center console, and turned her body towards him, raising her hand and moving ever so slowly, giving him plenty of time to see her intent and stop her.

He didn't stop her, or even so much as flinch, as she pushed the strands of hair, like wisps of silk, back from his face. He didn't help, though, and she had to lean closer to examine the marks, tattooed the same color as his hair. Not sure she was seeing what she thought, she raised her other hand to trace gentle fingers over the skin.

"It's a scar."

He nodded, as if that explained everything.

"Why the tattoo?"

"To make them stand out, yo. Scars don't stay red forever."

She dropped back into her seat then. Finding out they were scars hadn't disturbed her, but that he wanted them to stand out elicited a strange feeling within her. Most people didn't want their scars noticed. Go figure.

Had he cut the hair on the left side of his head for a similar reason? She wanted to ask, but didn't dare.

He seemed fine with the silence that settled in the car after appeasing her curiosity, and while he wasn't asking for directions, she didn't offer any. Still, he drove unerringly through the streets in a very direct route, pulling up in front of her apartment building and parking in a 'no parking' zone. By the time Tifa got out of the car, he had circled around and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for her.

"Are you going to walk me to my door?" She asked, feeling rather silly about the extent to which his task was being taken.

"Orders are orders, yo." He followed her as she entered the building, keeping pace with a lazy stride.

"So you do whatever Tseng tells you to do?" Neither of them looked old enough to be giving orders to anyone else.

"He's the boss, yo."

"And that makes you one of his go-to boys?" She asked snidely.

"That makes me his second in command." If he noticed her tone, it didn't seem to faze him. Tifa came to an abrupt halt, turning to stare at him and he returned her gaze, completely unaffected.

"I don't understand. If you're that high up in the ranks, why would you get a grunt assignment like seeing me home?"

"Because," he offered up as he walked past her to lead her to her own door, "I'm the one who wanted to do it."

She fussed with her keys as she tried to figure out what that meant, and finally managed to get the door open and step through, turning back to thank him only to find him following her into her apartment. She stood, holding the doorknob, waiting for him to realize he hadn't been invited. He strolled through the entryway, taking a look around, peeking through doorways, and chose the one leading to the living room. Closing the door with an exasperated sigh, Tifa followed to find him sprawled out in her favorite chair, one leg propped over the arm, the foot tapping lightly in the air.

"You forgot to lock the door, yo."

Stopping short, she stared down at him, trying to see past the white pinpricks of anger that were invading her vision. Staying her urge to follow his advice and take care of the locks, she planted one hand on her hip while waving the other annoyingly in the air.

"What? You couldn't take care of practically anything that came through that door?"

"Sure I could. Don't mean I will, yo."

Oh, that was the breaking point. She wanted to bounce the punk out on his ear.

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"Tseng said you were going to see old man Shinra. Said I should tag along."

"Tag along?" She looked around the room, but couldn't find anything to throw at him that she was willing to break. "For what?"

His eyes lit up in amusement as he met her gaze,

"To make sure you don't do anything stupid, yo." Which was true, but he wasn't going to remind her that his first priority was to protect Mr. Shinra.

"I'll manage just fine, thank you," she asserted as she turned her back on him, leaving him alone in the room. Given his rudeness inviting himself in, she didn't feel obligated to entertain him.

"Like you did with Hojo?"

She spun around mid-stride.

"All things considered, I did just fine." And she believed that.

Reno rolled to his feet in an easy, efficient flex of lithe muscle.

"Sure you did, yo." He approached her slowly. "Right up until he put his hands on you." Sensory memory kicked in, giving Tifa an eerie, cautious feeling, and she recoiled when he put one hand on her shoulder. "And when you had to dance with him, damn Lockhart, I thought you were going to stroke on us." He placed his other hand on her hip, drawing her close as if he were going to dance with her, so close that her cheek brushed against the shorter hair on that side of his head, the sensation strange against her skin.

"A touch here," he caressed down her arm, "a grope there," he slipped a hand around to her backside, giving it a quick squeeze, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away. Pressing his head to hers, his lips skimmed her ear. "What would you have done when he decided to fuck you?"

This time he let her go when she drew back. Tifa teetered, thrown slightly off balance and gulping for air when she hadn't realized she had been holding her breath.

"You…" The words died before they left her mouth, drying up on her tongue as her brain scrambled to catch up with what was going on. What had she been about to say? It escaped her, so she went with the next best thing. Denial.

"That would not have happened," she declared emphatically.

Snorting, his head kicking back, a long thin hand running over the plains of his chest and stomach, Reno didn't bother arguing with her. He wandered past her and stood at the door.

"So? You going to see Shinra, or what? I don't got all day, yo."

Over her head, that's what she was, and she knew it, and as badly as her day had gone, she still felt like she was about to step from the frying pan into the fire.


	4. Chapter 4

_In case the previous warnings slipped by: There is nothing too extreme in this chapter besides some colorful and suggestive language and description. I am trying to keep Reno in character (as well as many of the other characters) despite the AU nature. I hope I have succeeded. _

_I'm having fun with this one. For reading and reviewing, thank you much._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

**IV**

Reno wasn't nearly as polite as the other Turk had been when waiting for Tifa. In fact, when she came out of the bathroom in her robe, she found him in her bedroom, inspecting the contents on top of her dresser.

"What are you doing in here?"

Barely glancing her way, he shrugged.

"Just looking around, yo. Friend or family?"

"Who?"

"The girl you live with."

Which meant he had been in Elena's room as well.

"She's my roommate."

Flicking his hair back with the motion, he turned an amused expression to her.

"But you don't share a room."

"It's still called a roommate. Are you always this nosey?"

He picked up the small silver frame that contained a picture of Tifa's parents from before she was born.

"Sometimes. Are you always this uptight?"

"Get out!" Pointing at the door, she refused to look at him. The man, if she could even call him that at his age, was insufferable.

He swaggered out of the room and disappeared from sight, probably to explore another crevice of the apartment. Tifa debated following him, but decided it would be better to get dressed as quickly as possible and simply get him out of her home altogether.

When she was done, she found him standing by the front door waiting, apparently finished with his self-guided tour.

"You didn't need to shower and change, yo. The old man probably won't even see you without an appointment."

"Yes, I did, and he's going to see me without an appointment whether he likes it or not, even if I have to wait all day." She felt better having showered. True, it had only been a few hours since she had left the house that morning, but her experiences that morning had left her with a slimy feeling on her skin.

Reno opened the door, standing aside and holding it open for her, a gesture she hadn't expected, but the expression on his face was smug, clearly betraying the gentlemanliness of the gesture.

"This I gotta see," he muttered as she walked by.

* * *

Tifa hadn't thought about anything past confronting Mr. Shinra about their apparent breakdown in communication. It hadn't occurred to her that she didn't even have identification confirming her employment with Shinra until she was face to face with the secretary in the center lobby of the Shinra building. The secretary didn't give her a second glance, however. No, her eyes were only for Reno, a dreamy quality filling them as the Turk approached.

"Hey, Sherry." He leaned over the high lip of the desk, his smile coy and beguiling.

"Hi Reno." Sherry's voice had gone from being crisp and official to having a slightly intoxicated slur to it. "I didn't think you would be here today."

"Missed me, huh?" His smile lit up a notch and he cast a glance at Tifa as he reached out to run a finger gently along Sherry's chin. "Do me a favor, Sher? Check to see if the old man is in his office."

Was Tifa reading this right? Was this whole performance for the benefit of getting her the meeting she wanted? Sherry had finally noticed her and was glaring daggers at her. Reno circled around the desk and perched himself on the edge of the desk, making sure his leg brushed against Sherry's arm, successfully drawing her attention back to him. He reached back to pick the phone up, making a lovely display of his body for the woman, and held it out to her, his hand lingering longer than it had to as she accepted the receiver.

She had to reach around Reno to dial the phone, but he didn't budge an inch, letting her rub against him, smiling down at her suggestively. Sherry spoke into the phone casually, apparently to someone she was friendly with, her tone slightly breathless with what Tifa was sure was yearning, her hand nervously playing with the uppermost button on her blouse.

Tifa observed the two with a mixture of disgust and fascination, the latter of which she would never admit to if she could help it. It wasn't as if she couldn't see how handsome Reno was, how sexy he was, and his undoubtedly dangerous nature also provided some appeal, but was this woman really doing this just for a wink and a smile? For the attention of a man who was barely old enough to be referred to as such. Oh, please.

In her musings, she had missed the end result of the phone call. Reno was standing now, leaning down to whisper something in Sherry's ear. Tifa couldn't hear the words, but the red cheeks and the slightly delirious pleasure on the secretary's face gave her a general idea of the nature of what was said. Then Reno was walking towards the elevator, pausing only long enough to turn back, his hair flaring out in a silken wave of red.

"Coming, yo?"

Tifa gaped but then followed, thrilled that getting her meeting might be easier than she had thought and pissed that it might have been made possible only through this annoying Turks assistance.

They stepped into the elevator, and the few people that were in it cleared out like smoke evaporating. As if Tifa wanted to be stuck alone in the cube with a Turk. Reno hit the button on the panel and leaned back against the side of the elevator, slouching and folding his arms over his very lean chest. A girl, perhaps in her early twenties, actually walked into the elevator, took one look at him, and backed out without a word. What an interesting array of reactions he elicited. The doors slid shut.

"You're doing it again, yo."

Tifa startled.

"Doing what?"

"Staring." He met her gaze, defying her to deny her actions.

She couldn't. Drawing herself up indignantly, she defended herself instead.

"I was just thinking it was wrong. What you did with that secretary. It wasn't right."

He was laughing at her.

"How d'you figure, yo? What'd I do?"

"You," the words jangled around in her head as she tried to arrange them in a way that didn't sound totally tacky, "you tried to seduce her into doing what you wanted."

He shifted against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other.

"You got it all wrong, Lockhart. I got her to do what you wanted."

"That's splitting hairs, Reno. It was how you did it, not the end result. It was almost like you were lying to her, promising her something in return for her help."

"Promising her something? Like what, yo?"

Was he being intentionally infuriating? Or did he just not see how his actions had been misleading?

"Are you kidding me? The way you talked to her, looked at her, let her fawn all over you? The only thing you didn't do was give her your number."

The smug expression overtook his face before the words were completely out of her mouth, and she knew what his game was. He was baiting her. And it had worked.

"So you think that's a lie, huh?" He stalked her, closing the distance between them in the already too close space. Cornered, a wall on one side, an arm braced over her shoulder on the other. "Later, when she's on her break, and I drag her into an empty room and fuck her senseless over a desk or against a wall, you think her screams'll be cause she ain't getting what she wants? Where will the lie be when I'm buried up inside her and she's screaming my name?"

The bell dinged, indicating they had reached their floor, and Reno was gone, stepping away and out of the elevator before Tifa could get over her shock. She remained, back pressed into the mirror-polished metal interior of the elevator, trying to erase the visual he had created. It was as clear an image as if she had walked in on them, her imagination presenting her with Sherry the secretary pushed back on a desk, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her legs wrapped around the narrow waist of the fully dressed Turk as he thrust into her, drawing his name from her lips along with other unintelligible sounds of lust and pleasure, neither aware of anything but the mindless rapture of the moment.

Tifa wanted to be disgusted. It would have made sense if she had been as repulsed as she had been that morning with Professor Hojo pawing all over her. Instead, her heart was hammering in her chest, her breath was coming short, and her skin felt swollen, hyper sensitized.

Taking a moment to shake off the disturbing effects, Tifa blamed it on the Turk's forward behavior. He had simply caught her off guard once again, completely unsuspecting of how bold he might act. From now on, she would consider herself forewarned. She smoothed her hand over her suit and hair, checking her appearance in the smooth surface of the wall as she reminded herself of her reason for being here, and stepped confidently from the elevator.

She couldn't read Reno's expression when she found him waiting for her, leaning against the wall across from the elevator. She was looking for some kind of reaction from him to his brazen words, but there was no indication it even fazed him. Boredom was the best way she could describe his appearance. Bored and lazy. He gestured idly down the hall in the direction she was apparently to go, and then effortlessly kept stride with her as she set a brisk pace in the direction of a large foyer with a desk at the very center.

As she entered the foyer, the man behind the desk glanced up, his mouth opening to speak, but Tifa, having had her patience tested to the limit this day, raised a forestalling hand as she turned toward the only door in the area.

"Don't bother. I'm not taking no for an answer."

He stood down, and Tifa had the distinct impression it may have been because of something Reno did, but she didn't bother to turn to see. She really didn't want to know if Reno would take this young man into a supply closet later and give him whatever he might want. No, that would have been information overload.

Mr. Shinra glanced up as she stepped through the enormous doors into the plush office. She took in her surroundings, the thick, layered carpet, the leather chairs, the finely crafted furniture, the exquisite art hanging on the walls, pieces she was sure were originals.

"Ah, Ms. Lockhart. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?" Mr. Shinra drew her from her observations.

She approached the desk, organizing her words before she blurted out anything too terribly embarrassing.

"I'm here to speak to you about this morning, Mr. Shinra."

"Hmm. What about it?"

"What about it?" Her voice was rising indignantly. "I don't know what you expected of me, Mr. Shinra, but I assure you that when I agreed to work for you I was not agreeing to," she paused. How to put this delicately? "Prostitute myself."

Mr. Shinra's rather illustrious eyebrows rose as he looked past Tifa to address Reno.

"Reno, did you offer Ms. Lockhart money in return for certain favors?"

Tifa heard Reno's low chuckle and felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she realized they were making a joke of her concern.

"Why, she got something I never had before?"

Now they were both having a good laugh at her expense.

"Mr. Shinra, I really don't see what's so..."

"I don't recall, Ms. Lockhart," he interrupted her, "that we discussed the terms of your employment. Am I mistaken?"

Was he suggesting that such assignments should be acceptable because they hadn't discussed it the details of their arrangement?

Or perhaps this had been expected all along, and she should have clarified from the beginning.

"No, Mr. Shinra, we didn't discuss terms, but I certainly hadn't expected this."

"What exactly are you referring to? Did anyone ask you to perform such acts on my dime?"

Tifa split her attention for a moment to turn to look at Reno, who seemed to be studying one of the paintings. He wasn't going to be any help.

"Not specifically, Mr. Shinra," she admitted, turning back. "It was suggested, and when I expressed my disagreement, Tseng and Professor Hojo were not very pleased."

"Ah, Tseng. His loyalty is to be admired, especially in one so young. And Professor Hojo is quite the eccentric."

"Eccentric? He's sick. Perverted. And Shinra may be a great place to work for someone who needs the money, which I do, and trust me I'm not trying to be difficult, but there are certain things I can't do, no matter what the paycheck looks like, which we never discussed either. I need to make that clear, and if it's not acceptable, I won't be able to work for you."

Tifa squirmed under Mr. Shinra's intense scrutiny.

"I apologize Ms. Lockhart."

Oh, here it comes. She had just begun a job that promised a steady paycheck, and one that might even do more than barely pay the bills, and she was about to get canned over a misunderstanding.

"You have to understand how important Professor Hojo is to Shinra. His research has been ongoing for some time and is absolutely invaluable. Thus we do indulge his few idiosyncrasies. His appearance this morning at a social gathering was last minute and unexpected, and we needed to make an attempt to keep him entertained. I did not anticipate that it would spin so quickly out of control. My wife suggested that you were a strong personality, and so I assumed, perhaps erroneously, that you would be able to handle any situation that arose. I certainly did not expect you, as you so aptly put it, to prostitute yourself. You were hired as an assistant, of sorts, which entails quite a variety of responsibilities, some unusual. It is my hope that, with this new understanding regarding your employment, you will be flexible and work with us towards a mutually acceptable arrangement."

He was sweet-talking her, glossing it over, and Tifa knew it, but maybe she had made it clear enough that there was a limit to what she was willing to do for the benefits of working for Shinra. It was worth giving it another try, wasn't it?

"I can't promise anything more than that I will try, Mr. Shinra."

"That will be good enough," he stated with nod.

"Thank you for seeing me." She bowed slightly and turned to leave, trying not to walk too quickly towards the door.

"Ms. Lockhart, aren't you forgetting something?"

She wheeled around, confused. He was holding an envelope, extended over the desk to her.

"Your first paycheck, for services rendered."

She felt heat suffuse her cheeks and she hesitated before stepping back to accept the envelope. Bowing again, she made a careful retreat from the office. She heard Mr. Shinra ask Reno to stay for a moment and heard the door click closed behind her, leaving her standing in the foyer with the envelope in her hand, nothing but her name neatly typed across the front of the envelope. She wondered if, after her behavior today, she even deserved this. She certainly hadn't expected to get paid so soon. Nodding at the secretary behind the desk and trying to ignore his glare, she opened the envelope carefully as she walked to the elevator.

She pulled the check free, looking at the figure in the small box. No. That wasn't possible. She read the amount underneath, spelled out so there was no mistake, and her knees nearly gave out as she wondered how many women wouldn't have minded playing Professor Hojo's games for the amount of money Shinra had just paid her.

As it were, her rent and bills were taken care of with this check. For at least the next six months.

Tifa rode down in the elevator alone this time, contemplating the changes that might be in store if Shinra continued to pay her like this. They hadn't even offered her a salary figure, but the amount of the check was far above anything she might have dreamed to ask for. She was distracted from her thoughts by the scene that met her in the lobby as the elevator doors slid open.

At first, she couldn't tell what was going on, but fear settled in as she recognized the Turks circling about something towards the center of the large room. Was there a threat? Had somebody breached security? And how bad could it be if so many Turks had to be called in to take care of it?

Then the Turks separated slightly, and Tifa caught sight of what was attracting them. It was the girl that worked for Mrs. Shinra, cowering at the center of the group, whimpering pitifully as she cringed away from one particular Turk that was advancing on her.

"Well, well. What do we have here? Such a pretty little thing. Bet you're just as sweet as sugar. What you say to giving me a taste?" When he reached out to touch her hair, she drew back, pushing the curly strands back behind an ear and then lowering her arms to cross them over her body protectively.

"Please. I just need to pick something up for Mrs. Shinra. Please let me go." Her fear radiated in her voice, which was weak and trembling, and Tifa thought she saw a tear roll down the girl's cheek.

The Turk was insistent, following her retreat, his fingers now playing with the lacing that held the collar of her blouse. Grabbing one end, he pulled the perfect bow loose, and she scrambled to re-tie it as she backed away, only to be caught in the arms of another Turk. He entrapped her, folding his arms around her, holding her against him as she struggled, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

"Yep, sweet as sugar," he commented as the first Turk took advantage of the girl being held still and traced his hand over her cheek, down her neck and over one breast. It was quite the lurid show for his fellow Turks, who were circling like wolves, snickering and leering, the closer ones reaching out to touch what they could, the girl twisting and turning in an attempt to free herself from the restraining arms, to avoid the unwanted contact, all to no avail.

Tifa was horrified. There were others in the lobby besides the Turks, but not one of them stepped up to do anything about what was going on right in front of their eyes. Was this what Mrs. Shinra had been talking about when she had suggested the Turks could be difficult? What an understatement that was! This wasn't being difficult; it was simply disgusting, and Tifa was not going to, couldn't, allow it to continue.

"Stop this! Let her go right now." Tifa stepped into the center of the group, drawing the attention of the entire group, especially the two that were holding their prey. Moving quickly, Tifa took advantage of their surprise and grabbed the girl's arm, pulling her away from the two Turks and out of the ring of Turks.

"Leave her alone. You're all behaving like animals. How dare you?"

The Turk that had been holding the girl stepped forward from the group.

"Oooo, looks like we've got a live one here, boys. Feisty. I like 'em when they fight."

Tifa pushed the girl behind her as the man walked towards them, giving herself room to move, and when he got close enough, she spun, her kick catching him in the stomach and doubling him over. She fell back into a fighting crouch, fists lifted before her, prepared to defend or attack, whichever was called for.

"Bitch."

The Turk was standing upright again and coming towards her, his rage obvious. Tifa dodged his fist, dropping low and striking a leg out to take his feet out from under him. He recovered quicker than she thought he would, jumping back to his feet, and she retreated from his anger as well as the other Turks, who had spanned out and were closing in. As she nearly tripped over the girl behind her, she started to wonder if she had bitten off more than she could chew, and she tried to prepare herself for the upcoming attack.

"What's going on here?"

Tifa turned to the voice, careful to keep her guard. Tseng was approaching from across the lobby, but she remained wary. Tseng was in charge, according to what Reno had told her, but there were Turks here that were clearly older than him, not to mention larger. She found it difficult to believe that Tseng held enough power to keep them all at bay.

She resumed her fighting stance, not willing to trust to his authority, but just as she lifted her hands, strong arms hooked around her elbows, drawing them back and pulling her back into a long, lean frame of muscle. She struggled against the hold, turning her head enough to catch a glimpse of red hair.

"Let me go."

Reno refused to release her, resting his head against hers instead, shushing her quietly, soothingly, and his shorter hair tickling along her cheek as he made sure he was too close for her to retaliate.

She stilled as Tseng stepped between her and the wall of Turks. He hadn't said anything more, at least that she had heard, but it seemed he had command of the room by his presence alone. When he finally spoke, it wasn't to anyone in particular, but the tense emotions seemed to be draining from the room.

"Assignments are to be carried out without delay. If you have not been assigned, report to my office immediately." He didn't wait for the room to clear as he turned to Tifa.

"Ms. Lockhart? Is your business here finished?"

Tifa tried once more to pull away from Reno, nearly tripping when he released his grip. He moved fluidly, slinking out of her reach with amazing speed, surprisingly graceful, and moved to stand at Tseng's side. Tifa stared at his all too innocent face as she answered.

"I've met with Mr. Shinra, yes."

"Would you like an escort home?"

"What about her?" Tifa gestured to the girl that was still cowering behind her, looking up at Tifa with wide, wondering eyes.

Tseng spared a glance for the girl.

"I assume you're here for Mrs. Shinra?"

Her head bobbed up and down as she stood up, smoothing her skirt down.

"Then you best do what you came for. Mrs. Shinra will not be pleased if you return unsuccessful."

The girl practically ran into the elevator, clutching her hands to her chest as she waited for the doors to slip closed.

"That's it?" Tifa asked. "She's assaulted by your Turks right here in the lobby, and you just send her on her way? And they don't have to answer for it?"

Tseng's impassive eyes met hers, their dark depths shining dangerously.

"Do you even know her name?"

What a startling question. How dare he try to smokescreen her with such a useless question?

"What difference does that make?" Her outrage was painfully clear in her tone.

He stared at her, expressionless, and then turned to return the way he had come, Reno falling into step behind him.

"Go home, Ms. Lockhart."

"What about..."

"It's not your problem. The Turks wouldn't have hurt her, and I give you my word Aerith will return home safe."

"But..."

Tseng didn't acknowledge her further protest, his brisk pace taking him quickly down the hall. She wasn't sure she believed him as the events of the past few minutes started to play through her mind, but she felt helpless to do anything further about it.

Aerith. She repeated the name in her head, determined that what she could do was check later to make sure the girl did make it home unharmed. And discuss with Mrs. Shinra the impracticality of Aerith continuing working for Shinra in her current capacity.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: This chapter was originally much darker, but I took rageofloki's suggestion and edited it down. I want it to be gritty, but not to the point of the characters being un-redeemable. (is that a word? Don't know, don't care.) It's still darker than most everything I write._

_Warning: This chapter contains mature/sexually suggestive content and language. _

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

**Chapter V**

Tifa managed a block and a half before she made a U-turn and headed straight back to the Shinra building. What right did Tseng have to step in before she had a chance to give them a dose of their own medicine? And Reno? How dare he restrain her? And the fact that he had read her actions well enough to know exactly how to physically dominate her was all the more irritating.

Back in the lobby, she ignored the secretary at the main desk, who seemed unable to decide if stopping her was worth leaving her desk. The desk won out, but Tifa noticed her picking up the phone, and nearly certain that phone call was about her, wondered when the Turks would swoop down on her.

She oriented herself as she walked, heading down the hall in which she had last seen Tseng and Reno. She was well down the hall when it occurred to her that she had no idea where they had been going, but, damn it, if she had to knock randomly on doors to find them, she was not going to leave here without having her say.

It didn't matter in the end, as she passed a set of secure doors, marked restricted personnel, no less, and the doors opened, allowing a young woman in a lab coat into the hall. Through the door, Tifa caught a glimpse of Tseng talking to Reno and she grabbed the door before it had a chance to swing shut, clearing her throat to make her presence known.

Tseng turned to her, cellphone pressed to his ear.

"There's no need to worry Sherry. She's with me. I'll take care of it." He flipped closed and pocketed the phone and turned that obscenely mature voice on her. "I thought you were on your way home, Ms. Lockhart. Imagine my surprise, being informed of your return."

Reno stepped forward, tapping Tseng's arm in the process.

"I got this, Boss."

He was already steering Tifa back into the hall, a firm hand on her upper arm.

"How dare you?"

Tifa pulled her arm away, but the door had already closed, the sound of the lock engaging with a snap, closing her off from Tseng. No matter. If she couldn't give him a piece of her mind, Reno would do just fine.

"I've had just as much of this as I can take." She squared her shoulders indignantly, Reno's casual demeanor fueling her need to state her case.

"Doesn't seem that way, with you coming back for more, yo." His amusement did nothing but irritate her further.

"What makes you think you can push me around? You had no right interfering before with that girl, Aerith."

His eyes narrowed, intensely focusing on her, the tattoos framing the dangerous glint forming in the depths of his eyes.

"So you were going to take on a whole gang of Turks yourself, huh?"

Tifa nodded vehemently.

"It was the right thing to do! Tseng shouldn't have interfered and you had no right to put your hands on me!"

"And you think you would have been able to handle them all, yo?" He was grinning again, advancing on her, the tone of his voice shifting to something she hadn't expected and wasn't sure she wanted to deal with. "You must be much more experienced than I gave you credit for, Lockhart."

Oh, yes, Tifa recognized that tone: Suggestive and lascivious, implying a deeper, seedier meaning between the lines.

All she could utter in response was a surprised squawk as he backed her to the wall, his close proximity muddling her thoughts.

"Did you come back here just to bitch?" One hand threaded through her hair until it was securely tangled at the back of her head. "Or was there something else you were after?" The other hand slid down the front of her body, over the curve of her breast, spreading out over the flat of her stomach to curl around the dip of her waist and then over the flair of her hip, gripping, pulling her closer, refusing her retreat.

Tifa ceased her struggling completely as he locked their bodies together. He was aroused, the evidence of which was pressed, quite intentionally, she was sure, into the tenderness of her lower belly.

"You can feel that, can't you?"

Oh, yeah, it was intentional. Tifa wondered if holding her breath would keep her from inciting further reaction from him. It was quite enough that her anger was bleeding away in the face of a growing erotic awareness.

"You didn't notice it before, did you? Too busy trying to get away to bother noticing my cock pressed up against your ass, all because you wanted to take on a bunch of Turks."

He used the grip in her hair to hold her face so she couldn't turn away, the eye contact painfully intimate as he spoke to her, his lips nearly touching hers, his breath warm over her skin, and Tifa was frozen, caught between shock and lust, fighting an internal battle, knowing that if he closed that already barely-there space between them, she wasn't sure if she would push him away or kiss him back.

"Maybe," his lips tickled along the skin of her cheek until he could whisper in her ear, "you should try taking on one Turk before you go for a whole group of them. You think you can handle it?" He held her tight as the spell broke. "I'd be gentle with you, Lockhart, teach you anything you want to know."

Reno stepped back from her,cautiously, moving slowly, his arms dropping to his sides as he observed her carefully, not taking his eyes from her as he punched the code and re-entered the secure area, the door slipping closed cutting off his view of Shinra's newest employee. He had done his job, distracting her nicely from her original intent. And if he had his own little bit of fun along the way, Tseng would still be happy with the results. Hell, he might even get a smile out of the stuffy bastard.

Tifa was watching him carefully as well, feeling all too much the prey at the moment, fighting to breathe past the mad thumping of her heart as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

* * *

Tifa sat in the armchair in the living room, staring out the window as the light faded from the sky. She had spent the afternoon pacing. Then sitting. Then pacing. And she had finally worn herself down to sitting and staring out the window, still without any of the answers that she needed.

What the hell had happened?

That pretty much summed up her entire day. Well, that, and what the hell had she been thinking? Various images of her day kept leaping around in her mind randomly, all refusing to let her think about any one part of it for more than a few seconds at a time. She still couldn't think about Professor Hojo without feeling ill. Her meeting with Mr. Shinra, she realized now, had been a complete failure; he had humored her, and she felt completely patronized. She didn't want to think of the confrontation with the Turks. She still couldn't believe what she had witnessed, what the Turks had done, that no one had stepped forward to put a stop to it. No one but her,that is. She could still feel the incredulous stares following her as she left the Shinra building, stares of people who wondered if she was really that brave or that stupid.

Tseng had said the Turks wouldn't hurt Aerith. Could she trust that? She wasn't so sure that would have been the case had she not interfered. She was pretty sure by Aerith's reaction that she was already hurting, if not physically, then emotionally. And could she trust that the girl would make it home safely? Well, it was a little to late to worry about that now. If she hadn't been so rattled, she might have thought to wait and see the girl at least leave the building without further incident. What was someone like Aerith doing working for Shinra anyway?

And then there was Reno. What kind of game had he been playing? In a matter of a few minutes, he had totally twisted her emotions, leaving her unsure of his intent. Was he attracted to her? Did he really think she had returned to Shinra because she was attracted to him? Were his lewd suggestions something he really believed? Or were they just that: Lewd suggestions meant to disgust her? Damn if she could tell.

What disturbed her most, though, was that she _was_ attracted to him. It certainly wasn't to his personality; he had been nothing but an ass as far as she was concerned. But her body reacted to him in the most primal way possible, to the point where it was frightening to her. As if that wasn't bad enough, he knew it. Or at least acted like he knew it.

Or was that part of his game, too?

The front door opened and closed, and Tifa nearly flew out of the living room to find out who it was. Elena. Well, who else did she expect? Who else would have a key?

Oh, like the people she had been in contact with in the past few hours would need a key, Who was she kidding?

"What a day. I was asked today if we would be able to do a last minute catering job tomorrow for a small party. You'll be available, won't you?"

Elena turned from hanging her coat up and stopped short as she finally got a good look at Tifa.

"Are you okay? You look strange."

Tifa, having realized her bizarre behavior, backed up a couple of steps and tried to resume something akin to normal. As a last resort to keep some measure of control, she led the way to the kitchen, busying herself with making a pot of coffee..

"I'm fine, but I can second you on that 'what a day'. I've certainly had better."

She could feel Elena watching her, and when she turned, she found the blond studying at her, perhaps too closely, tilting her head as she inspected Tifa's expression.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

Tifa glanced past Elena, back through the kitchen door.

"From now on, I think we should expect just about anyone."

Elena quizzically followed her gaze, but said nothing, waiting to see if Tifa would further elaborate, but Tifa still had a slightly haunted look about her.

She took mugs out of the cabinet, placing them on the kitchen table as she sat.

"Okay, then. So are you in for tomorrow?"

Tifa shook her head, confused.

"I don't know. My new job with Shinra seems to be an on call thing. I'd hate to say yes, and then have them call me at the last minute."

"Come on, Tifa. You can't sit around waiting for them to call you. We have rent due in a couple of days. We need to take what we can get."

"I didn't say I wouldn't do my part."

Tifa disappeared into the apartment, coming back within a few seconds to drop the envelope on the table in front of Elena.

"I don't think rent will be a problem."

Completely baffled by Tifa's behavior, Elena picked up the envelope and opened it. Tifa knew by the widening in her eyes when Elena had focused on what she was holding and the amount the check was made out for.

"Oh my God, Tifa. What did you do for this?"

"Not nearly what I thought I was going to have to, that's for sure."

Recounting her day to Elena, from the Turk that picked her up to the Turks she had a confrontation with, and very carefully leaving out her personal confrontation with Reno, Tifa had the surreal feeling that she could be talking about someone else's life. From Elena's dumbfounded reaction, she was most likely thinking pretty much the same thing.

"They gave you a check like this for dancing with one of their employees?" Clearly, she couldn't believe it. "Imagine what they might have paid you for fucking him!"

"Elena!" Tifa nearly dropped the coffee pot on the way to the table. She was going to need something stronger than coffee to drink if this conversation continued.

Elena clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling an erupting giggle.

"I guess that wouldn't have been a good thing, but damn, Tifa. Does Mrs. Shinra need another assistant? I wouldn't mind a paycheck like this once in a while."

The indirect reminder of Aerith was sobering.

"She has another assistant. That's the girl the Turk's were harassing."

"Ah. Good thing you were there to put them in their place."

"I don't know about that. Tseng and Reno stepped in before it got to that."

The phone rang, and Elena snagged the handheld from the counter next to her. From the brief exchange, Tifa knew it was for her before Elena held the receiver out to her with a smile and a wink, holding her hand over the mouthpiece.

"Mrs. Shinra calling for a Ms. Tifa Lockhart."

Tifa didn't bother to control her eyes from rolling as she accepted the phone and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello Mrs. Shinra."

"I've heard you had a busy day today, Ms. Lockhart." Right down to business, and Tifa had no way of knowing if it was good business or bad.

"I guess you could say that, yes."

"It is my understanding that you handled it all rather well. And Aerith tells me that you also assisted her in her errand at the office."

"Yes." Should she say more than that? What, exactly, had Aerith told Mrs. Shinra? Perhaps the less said the better in this case.

"Very good. I have a good feeling about you Ms. Lockhart."

"Thank you, Mrs. Shinra."

"You will be free tomorrow morning, won't you?"

Tifa mouthed the words 'she wants me to work tomorrow morning' and Elena nodded, dismissing Tifa from her previous request with a wave of her hand.

"Of course, Mrs. Shinra."

"Very good." Mrs. Shinra didn't sound as if there had ever been a doubt. "I'll have a car there at eight. Please be ready. Good night."

The line was dead before Tifa could protest and tell Mrs. Shinra to just give her a location and she would be wherever she was needed.

"Good night," she said to the dead phone, then hit the end-call button and handed it back to Elena as she took her coffee cup and headed for her room.

"By the way," she called back to the kitchen as she passed the front door and a last minute thought occurred to her, "I want a security chain put on the door."


	6. Chapter 6

_Writing was such a pleasure after all the time I had to commit to work! I apologize for the long wait, but maybe it was good; I feel like I can focus again. I did this on my mac, which I'm not as comfortable with editing on as I am with windows. Not to say that all mistakes are because of that, but there may be a few more than usual because of that. Point 'em out, I'll fix 'em. _

_Thanks to all who took the time to review. They were very encouraging!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

VI

When the doorbell rang, Tifa opened it with more than a little trepidation, fearing that Mrs. Shinra might have arranged for Reno to pick her up. Nothing to worry about there, though. She didn't recognize the man on the other side of the door, and about the only thing he had in common with Turks was the fact that he was wearing a suit. Hell, the suit wasn't even right, dark gray and pinstriped. He was an older man, his age showing not only in the lines on his face but in the more than a few streaks of gray through his hair, but he was still in good shape, and Tifa wanted to applaud his manners.

He was, she found out, Mrs. Shinra's personal chauffeur. It didn't get much better than that, did it? Tifa enjoyed the ride in the luxurious car, barely restraining herself from playing with the buttons and inspecting the little nooks and crannies. But the car, with it's leather seats, plush carpeting, and tinted windows to hide her from the world, was completely forgotten as Tifa caught sight of their destination.

The Shinra mansion was known far and wide for its opulence. It had graced the cover of many a magazine and newspaper, not only as a matter of press, but as a matter of both architecture and glamor. But the pictures she had seen didn't hold a candle to the real thing.

The Shinra's had spared no expense.

Tifa wasn't sure if she was impressed or disgusted.

Stepping out of the car had the ethereal feeling of what Tifa assumed might be like stepping into a fairy tale. But fairy tale this was not. From the stones that lined the pathway, all done by hand Tifa was sure, to the broad stairs leading up to a towering door, to the height and breadth of it all, Tifa knew it had all been built on the sweat and blood of the little people, and wondered insanely if there were any bodies buried within the foundation.

No. Shinra wouldn't keep the bodies so close to home.

Would they?

Tifa climbed the stairs and entered the enormous building in a state of dazed fascination, but kept pace with the young man who came to accompany her from the car. She guessed him somewhere in his teens, hardly more than a boy, and had the strange sense that he would be a servant, in some form or another, to Shinra for the rest of his life.

He led her up a grand staircase to the second floor and through a large room that could have been taken straight out of a museum for all the artwork displayed. Tifa knew where Mrs. Shinra was by the sound of her voice before the boy led her out onto the balcony that overlooked the back of the property.

She was on the phone, but acknowledged Tifa with a nod, waving her over to sit at the small table on which her breakfast was spread. The boy poured her a cup of tea, but offered her nothing more, and Tifa did not presume to be invited. Finally, Mrs. Shinra bid her farewells, hung up the phone and turned her attention fully to her guest.

"Good morning, Ms. Lockhart. You have certainly made your presence known in Shinra."

Tifa wasn't sure how to respond to that. She didn't know what, exactly, Mrs. Shinra had heard, but she was sure that rumors had a tendency to be exaggerated as time passed and the story spread. Whatever the case, she didn't dare ask for clarification, and tried to remain as neutral as possible.

"Good morning, Mrs. Shinra. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I hope my actions were no cause for concern."

Mrs. Shinra shrugged noncommittally.

"I don't know about trouble or concern, but it seems that whatever occurred at the offices yesterday was more than our little Aerith could handle, or so says Tseng."

"Is she all right?" Tifa sat forward in concern.

"Of course she is!" Mrs. Shinra took a sip of her tea. "Ah, delicious. Only the best comes from Wutai." She set her cup down. "She was fine, smiling as always when she got back yesterday, but Tseng insisted I give her some time off." Her brow scrunched a bit in thought. "She is a fragile thing, I admit. Like a little bird, or a delicate flower." She turned wide, curious eyes on Tifa. "I honestly don't know how she would survive without Shinra to provide for her."

The woman was off her rocker, Tifa thought. Did Mrs. Shinra really think that she was doing Aerith a favor? Did she think gratitude was the first emotion Aerith felt as she was trembling in fear?

"What about her family?"

"Oh, pshh. Girl doesn't have a soul to call family that I know of."

Which, Tifa concluded, didn't mean anything. Did Mrs. Shinra even look into the personal lives of her employees?

"Were you close with your father after your mother passed, Tifa?"

Tifa's head snapped at the question.

"It must be very hard to lose a mother so young. Tragic, even. And then your father as well, and leaving your home at such a young age. And now you live with," she paused, her hand circling in the air as if searching for the correct answer, "Elena, isn't it? But you miss your family."

That certainly answered Tifa's question about Mrs. Shinra's knowledge of her employees. Tifa felt a strange sense of discomfort at the general direction of the conversation, however. What was the point?

"Ah, but families are a complicated thing," Mrs. Shinra continued, not giving Tifa a chance to answer. It was as if she had a momentary lapse and was simply getting back on track, but Tifa suspected there was more to her little deviation in the conversation.

"Aerith's absence has left me at quite a loss. I do rely on her for the simplest of errands, you know. It is not a task I would normally ask of you, but would you be so kind as to run the shopping errands I had originally planned for Aerith today?"

As long as Mrs. Shinra paid her, what difference did it make if it involved some shopping? Tifa felt completely up to the task.

"It will, I should warn you, involve traveling into some of the, shall we say, seedier sections of Edge. I would never go there myself, but there are some shopkeepers down there that are particularly good at their craft." She passed a piece of paper across the table to Tifa, a list of shops and the items she wanted from each.

"You can take my car. I'll be home, at least for the morning, and if I need it, I'll just call you back." She paused for a moment, then raised her hand, a thought occurring to her. "Will you be okay with this? Would you like someone to come with you? For protection? I can call Tseng and see if he has a Turk he can send over. I know it's overkill to have a Turk along with you, but one can never be too safe."

Tifa had been shaking her head since the word 'protection' left Mrs. Shinra's mouth. No way was she going to have a Turk as an escort!

"That won't be necessary Mrs. Shinra. I should be fine."

Mrs. Shinra studied her before nodding . "Yes, I believe you will be." She picked up her phone and started dialing. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of."

Somehow the abruptness of her dismissal didn't surprise Tifa at all. She took a final sip of her tea, and took her leave.

The same young boy showed her out of the house, holding the door for her demurely as she left.

"Don't worry about Aerith," he spoke up as she stepped through the doorway. Tifa turned back, thinking she might have imagined it.

"She'll be fine," he continued, quickly, quietly, not wasting any time, glancing back to make sure he wouldn't be heard by any other than her. No, she wasn't imagining things. "Tseng watches out for her. Mr. Shinra's orders. But if you want to see her, she's probably in the old church. That's where she always is when she has time to herself."

Tifa wanted to know where the old church was, but the door closed on his last words.

She was aware of the changes in the city as she rode in the car, on the lookout for the old church in question. Into the heart of the city and beyond, even the air and light changed as the buildings became older and darker. People clustered here an there around shops, but not in a comfortable way. They watched over their shoulders, suspicion in their eyes, as the car rolled past them, a garish display of wealth where money was hard to come by. It didn't matter that they couldn't see Tifa through the tinted windows. She cowered in the back seat anyway.

With the many different shops Tifa needed to visit, it took her most of the morning to get all the items on her list. She was finally in the last store, a tiny little apothecary, where she was picking up a package for Mrs. Shinra, the contents of which she didn't dare ask about. As she stood at the counter waiting, she automatically glanced up as the door opened, and was barely able to contain the gasp of surprise when she saw the woman entering. Clearly, she knew what she wanted, as she made her way quickly around the small store, and then placed two packages of pantyhose, a pack of gum, and a box of condoms on the counter next to where Tifa was waiting.

"I need smokes with that, too, Hon," the woman requested as the cashier started to ring her up. Tifa watched the carefully painted lips form the words, still struck by the coincidence. It was the same woman, if a little worse for wear. As she stood there, she pulled the clips from her hair and ran her fingers through the dark locks. Her make-up was as well-applied as it had been previously, but her eyes were dull and tired, and the skin around her eyes and mouth was drawn and tight.

The girl behind the register appeared with the cigarettes, not even needing to ask the brand. That, Tifa thought, was the kind of service one could expect in a place like this. Almost family-like, they knew their regular customers, and knew how to make them happy.

The woman picked up the pack of cigarettes, opened them, and placed one between her lips as the girl rang up her purchases, and then she was looking directly at Tifa, who realized too late that she was staring.

"See something you like, Darling?"

Tifa swallowed hard, embarrassed at her rude behavior, trying to get her mouth to work around something a bit more civil.

"Felicia?"

The woman drew back in surprise, squinting her eyes a bit as she searched Tifa's face.

"Do I know you?"

"No, not really." How did you explain something like this to someone? "We met at a Shinra event."

Felicia was distracted as she paid, but then turned her full attention back to Tifa, recognition dawning.

"Oh, yeah. I remember you. You're that sweet little thing Hojo nearly had his claws in."

"Yeah, that's me." Tifa felt like shrinking into the background, and wasn't sure if it was being called a sweet little thing or having such a vulnerable moment acknowledged that made her feel that way. "I should thank you for that."

"Thank me? For what?"

"Professor Hojo was a bit too interested in me, if you know what I mean. If you hadn't distracted him, I don't know what would have happened."

The cashier slid Tifa's package across the counter. Tifa asked, as she had at every shop, if she owed anything, and was informed, as with all of them, that it had already been charged to Mrs. Shinra's account.

Felicia picked up her little bag at the same time Tifa did, her chuckle turning into a tired cough.

"Distraction. I guess that's one way of putting it." Tifa didn't think it could sound any more jaded.

"Well, thank you." They were stepping out onto the street, and Felicia lit the cigarette grasped between her lips with a silver lighter. "You couldn't have had better timing if it had been planned."

Felicia held the smoke in her lungs longer than she had to before exhaling off to the side, never taking her eyes from Tifa.

"I guess it's a good thing Reno called me then, isn't it?"

"Reno?"

Felicia's lips curved sensually when she smiled, but the fatigue was still evident.

"You didn't know, did you?"

"Know what?"

"My being there wasn't a coincidence, Honey. Reno called me." She dug a cell phone out of her purse and waved it at Tifa. "He's got my number, ya know? It's not the first time I've done a bit of business with Shinra. Hojo has...special needs, ya know?" She leaned into Tifa a bit, lowering her voice confidentially. "He likes it rough...among other things." She straightened, inhaling and blowing more smoke, gauging Tifa's response. "Reno was right. You weren't ready for that. Might not ever be. People like Hojo are better left to the pros anyway. Otherwise you could end up getting hurt. So Reno called and I came." She giggled a bit. "A few times in fact. That's usually how it works when I get a call from Shinra."

Tifa was lost on that last bit, but wasn't sure she wanted to know. She was still trying to understand what Felicia was telling her. Reno? Then she tuned back into what Felicia was saying.

"Anyway, it's Reno you should be thanking, Honey, not me. I was just doing the job he called me in for."

"I see," Tifa responded weakly. Did this mean she owed him? This was going to be one bitter pill to swallow.

"Damn! I gotta go get some sleep. These long nights are killing me." Felicia started down the sidewalk. "You take care of yourself, kid."

Tifa waved awkwardly, unable to think of anything to say.

"Reno doesn't put himself out for just anyone, you know," Felicia called back over her shoulder, then stopped to turn back, cocking one hip out as she shifted her lean weight onto one leg. "He does his job for Shinra just fine, but there aren't many he calls his own." She lowered her head in thought. "I could probably count on one hand the people he protects without Shinra's orders." When she looked up at Tifa again, her gaze held something vaguely akin to respect.

"You really should consider yourself lucky, kid."


	7. Chapter 7

_And here is the proof that I haven't forgotten or given up on this one, though it's been a long time! _

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

**VII**

While Tifa may have felt odd riding around in the back of a chauffeured car all morning, the driver didn't seem to be fazed by anything. Nothing, that was, until Tifa returned to the car after her conversation with Felicia. Not having shown any emotion all morning made his expression of contempt even more pronounced, and as Tifa approached, his words were low and harsh.

"You really should mind the company you keep, Miss."

Taken off guard, Tifa was startled momentarily that the man was even speaking to her and not to a passerby.

"You mean Felicia? Do you know her?"

The way he tilted his nose up and turned his head spoke volumes.

"Practically everyone who works at Shinra knows of her, but not many will admit to it, and anyone with any kind of reputation to protect knows better than to speak with her in such a casual manner as you have today."

Tifa couldn't do more than stare blankly at him, not fully believing that she was hearing correctly or that the man was being so cruel and judgmental.

"I don't really know her, but she did me a favor, and I felt the need to thank her," she explained as way of explanation.

"Favor?" He scoffed at the word. "You can't be serious. Felicia doesn't do favors for people. If there isn't something for her to gain, she's not interested in it." He swung the door open and held it for her, his words containing a note of finality to them.

Tifa slid into the back of the car and waited while the driver stepped around to his own door. She thought back on what Felicia had said, about Reno calling her in and how Tifa should be thanking him. So what, Tifa wondered, had Felicia gained from Reno? Money? Had Reno paid himself, or was he just a middleman for Shinra? And now that she knew more clearly what had gone on, how much did she really owe the Turk? Come to think of it, Reno was making a habit of helping her out of sticky situations. Why? And what did he expect in return?

As they made their way back through the neighborhood, Tifa stared out the window at the surrounding people and buildings. Most went on their way with nothing more than a glance, but she couldn't help but notice some of the more colorful expressions as they passed, from awe to outright disgust. It occurred to Tifa that there was no way for people not to know that this was a Shinra vehicle with it plastered across the license plate, and that meant different things to different people, not all of it good. It added to the feeling of awkwardness she had, riding in the back of this car. She didn't feel like she belonged here. She wasn't a Shinra, or even of their stature. Hell, she belonged out their on the streets with all of those people, running around, trying to make ends meet, and only minimally aware of how the wealthy affected her life.

And, really, who was this driver to treat her like she was anything more than that? To warn her about being careful about who she talked to?

She turned her attention from the pedestrians on the street to the dark buildings surrounding them, a glimpse of one building in particular among the rest catching her eye.

"Is that a church?" She pointed at the building which had already disappeared among the others. The chauffeur didn't bother looking around, but he seemed to know what she was talking about.

"There is an old, dilapidated church back there, yes."

Was it possible, Tifa wondered.

"Would you mind going back so I can see?"

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror for a second, and whatever strangeness there was in that expression, Tifa didn't understand, but he switched on a blinker and changed lanes and took a side road that would circle them around to the building in question.

It was still a beautiful building, despite the obvious damage. Tifa figured the building would have been considered condemned if anyone was paying attention to it. Could this possibly be the church the boy had mentioned to her? As the car rolled to a stop, still quite a distance from the building, Tifa didn't bother waiting for the chauffeur. Opening the door, she stepped out onto the street and slowly approached the building.

"Ms. Lockhart," the chauffeur called. "I must insist that you get back in the car. We really shouldn't be here." He was running after her now, and she impulsively felt like taking off and seeing what kind of shape he was really in. She suppressed the urge, and he did nothing more than tug at her sleeve as he searched the surrounding area frantically with worried eyes.

Approaching the dilapidated building, she began to doubt strongly that anyone, including Aerith, would find any reason to be in a place like this, but at that point there didn't seem to be any harm to at least taking a look around. She pushed the door open slowly, surprised to find the two enormously oversized doors were still on their hinges and in working order. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to what they were seeing, the pews lining the edges of the room as if church were still in session, and beyond that Aerith standing in a stream of sunshine amidst a rich array of flowers. She had turned upon hearing the door open, and when she recognized Tifa, a huge smile lit her face along with the warm sun.

"Tifa!" She called out happily as she made her way carefully out of the flowerbed and down the aisle. "What are you doing here?"

"I, well I," Tifa stuttered a bit with the explanation. Truth was she was being nosey, but she couldn't exactly say it like that, now could she? "I wanted to see if you were okay after yesterday."

Aerith shrugged, sighing with what Tifa took to be happiness.

"Oh, I'm fine. Spending time here always makes me happy." She was glancing around at the flowers wistfully. "This is the only place they grow in the city, you know. I don't know why, but I've searched everywhere and can't find any others. It really is very special."

Listening to her, Tifa wondered if Aerith had all her eggs in one basket. Did she even realize what danger she had been in the day before? Did she really not understand? Was that why Mrs. Shinra watched out for her so carefully? And why would someone like Mrs. Shinra take such a responsibility? Tifa was pretty sure it couldn't be as simple as looking out for an employee.

"That's good to hear, Aerith. I know Tseng promised to get you home safe, but I felt better checking."

Aerith turned a bright smile back on her.

"Isn't he sweet?" She blushed slightly. "He would never let anything happen to me. He's so young and has so many responsibilities, and even with all the things he has to do, he still finds time to watch out for me." She looked past Tifa to the door that still stood open. "He might be out there somewhere right now."

Tifa swung around to follow Aerith's gaze. Was that possible? She hadn't seen anyone out there, not even a hint, and it was hard to miss someone like Tseng. But then, she hadn't been looking for anyone, either. In her mindset, she might have walked right by him without noticing.

"I didn't see him."

Aerith's laugh was a light, fluttery sound, which she hid behind a delicate, feminine hand.

"You don't know anything about the Turks, do you?"

She was learning, Tifa thought, but no, she didn't know nearly enough.

"I thought the Turks scared you." Hadn't Aerith been trembling in fear the first day they met? Hadn't it been because of the Turks?

Brow furrowed, Aerith turned and went back to her flowers, running her fingers lovingly around the edges of the petals.

"They do. They're terrible, always playing pranks and joking around. And sometimes they can be really mean." Her expression darkened for a moment, deepening in thought as if she were remembering a particular incident that went with that description, and then she caught Tifa staring at her with concern and curiosity.

"But not Tseng." She brightened immediately. "I'm not afraid of him." She ran her hands among the flowers, inspecting them, and finally picked one out of the lot and held it out to Tifa.

"For you."

Tifa took the flower, unsure what to do with it, and Aerith laughed lightly at her plight.

"Here." Aerith took the flower back. "Let me braid it into your hair."

Tifa didn't have the heart to say no, so she sat carefully on the pew that Aerith led her to, and let Aerith weave the flower into her hair, which she tied off with a bit of cloth she had in her pocket. Aerith circled around, inspecting her handy-work and beaming at the result.

"It's perfect! Take my word for it: Everyone you meet today is going to tell you how pretty you are. Just you wait and see!" She spun around, arms wide, and then hugged them into her chest, a happy gesture of contentment, and it struck Tifa strangely. Was it really possible that Aerith was that naive, that she had such a simple, childish view of the world. She talked about the Turks as if they were simple neighborhood bullies; didn't she realize how dangerous they really were? Did she understand exactly what their behavior at the office was suggestive of? Did she really think Tseng could protect her?

"Ms. Lockhart, I must insist we get going now." Tifa wasn't sure how long he had been their, but the chauffeur had followed her into the church, and there was a note of urgency in his voice. "I told you this wasn't a good idea and..."

"That's an understatement." It was startling, to say the least, the unknown voice emanating from the shadows of the decrepit building. "Can't you do anything right? I'm surprised Shinra hasn't given you the boot already." A shadow detached itself from the wall, and although Tifa didn't recognize him, she knew what he was: Turk.

Had he been there the entire time, lurking in the corners like a spider ready to strike? Despite the chill that sent down her spine, Tifa stepped forward, making herself the center of attention.

"I asked to stop here to visit Aerith. If there's a problem with that, I'll take the blame." She turned back to Aerith. "I guess it's time to go. I have to get these things back to Mrs. Shinra." She glanced between the Turk and Aerith, surprised that Aerith didn't seem surprised by his presence. "Will you be okay?"

Aerith's smile returned, warm and friendly. "Of course. I'll be fine. Nobody bothers me when I'm here, and I'll be back at work tomorrow."

Tifa nodded, her own smile uncertain as Aerith hugged her in farewell. Before she left, she turned back to the Turk who, as far as she could tell, hadn't moved an inch since his approach from the shadows.

"It's your job to watch over her, isn't it?"

He didn't move as he answered. "I got my orders, yeah."

"So tell me: Why was I not supposed to come here?"

He rolled his head in her direction and smiled. It reminded Tifa vaguely of Reno, but in an unpracticed way, lacking his confidence. "Don't know, Ms. Lockhart. It isn't part of my orders."

And Tifa believed him. He was a robot, following orders. And he wasn't, she was sure, like Reno at all. Reno might follow orders, but he didn't do it blindly. Maybe he was the person to ask if she wanted answers about Aerith.

Nodding thoughtfully, she turned away muttering.

"Maybe I should ask Reno."

"Maybe you should." She hadn't expected an answer from the nameless Turk, but figured she'd ask for just a bit more.

"Do you know where I might be able to find him?"


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: It seems Reno is talking to me again. Yay. Keep in mind this fic is A/U. Although there are lots of familiar things going on, don't hold your breath that it will suddenly line up completely with anything in the ffvii storyline. No warnings for this chapter except Reno being Reno. I own nothing ffvii except a couple of games, a copy of Advent Children, and a Reno figurine.  
_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

VIII

Honestly, when was she going to learn? If her last few days with Shinra should have taught Tifa anything, it was to be prepared for every possibility. And to not be surprised by any answer to her questions.

In this case, the Turk didn't even give her a direct answer to her question.

"Don't know about that," he responded, shifting from one foot to the other. Just that slight movement cast him back into the shadows and It was eery how well he blended in. If Tifa hadn't known he was there, she might never have noticed him except for his voice reaching her.

"Tell ya what, though," he continued in that seemingly bodiless voice, "I'll let him know you were looking for him, and he'll let you know if he wants to be found."

How could Tifa argue with that? On second thought, she might have found a way, but would it really have done her any good? Probably not.

"Thank you. That would be very..." helpful. Tifa cut off as she stepped forward to actually see the man she was talking to and found he had done more than simply slip into the shadows. He was gone, and though he may still have been in the building, she couldn't find him no matter how she searched the shadows. From behind her, Aerith giggled.

"They really do come and go, don't they?" She pointed out as she came to stand beside Tifa.

If she had expected an answer, Tifa never had time to entertain the conversation. The chauffeur had taken her by the elbow, directing her away from Aerith and back towards the enormous door they had come through earlier.

"It is time for us to go, Ms. Lockhart." His tone made it clear that he was not taking no for an answer, and for the first time that day, Tifa couldn't find a reason to argue. She let him direct her back to the car, saying a quick goodbye to Aerith over her shoulder and waving just as she stepped into car, the door of which the chauffeur had managed to open without releasing her elbow. Tifa wondered, ridiculously, if that was a skill they taught in chauffeur school.

Mrs. Shinra wasn't at the Shinra mansion when she returned. In fact, no one was there that she recognized. When she came through the door, a maid led her efficiently through the house to a room that looked like an office, though it retained a particularly feminine quality to it. Mrs. Shinra's, Tifa supposed. The maid, a middle aged woman whose expression and movements were quick and businesslike, directed her to leave the parcels she had procured on the desk, front and center, assuring her that this was routine.

"Mrs. Shinra didn't leave any further instructions for you," the maid informed her. Tifa wondered how many people were employed within the Shinra mansion simply to take care of the place, and what their lives were like. Were they on call as she was? Or did they work regular shifts and get to go home for the rest of the time, free from any Shinra directives until they reported for work the next day. "You can go home, but I would keep your phone close if I were you. Things can change rather quickly around here."

Wasn't that the truth?

In reality, her errands for Mrs. Shinra, along with her visit with Aerith, had only taken a few hours. If nothing else came up, she might actually get to enjoy the afternoon. Would all of her assignments leave her with this much free time? Shouldn't she feel guilty about this? Maybe. Eh, maybe not.

* * *

She had just finished cleaning up the apartment and was planning to go up to the roof to do her daily exercise routine when a knock at the door froze her in place, heart racing. Was it the idea of being on call that had her so on edge? Or the idea that it might be a Turk at the door, especially one in particular? It took another, louder knock to break the spell and get her moving.

"Tifa? Are you home?"

"Elena?" What a profound feeling of relief. And confusion.

"Yeah, I forgot my key."

Opening the door for a forgetful Elena felt so normal after the past few days.

"Sorry about that," Elena babbled as she came through the door and headed to the kitchen with the couple of grocery bags she had, Tifa following a few paces behind. "I thought I had it, right up to the point where I couldn't find it." Elena started placing the few groceries from one bag on the table as Tifa unpacked the other. The first thing she took out was a small padded envelope.

"Oh, that's for you," Elena explained before Tifa had a chance to ask. "The delivery guy caught me just as I was leaving."

"Who's it from?" Tifa turned the envelope over. No return address, just her name in block print on one side.

"Don't know. He didn't say and I was in such a hurry, I didn't ask."

Tifa sat down at the table, still gingerly turning the envelope over in her hands. She hadn't ordered anything, hadn't been expecting a delivery, and she couldn't think what anyone would want to send her. Elena leaned over her shoulder, startling her.

"Well? You going to open it or not?"

Sometimes Elena's practical side really annoyed Tifa. But she was right. She gave the little tab a pull, holding the envelope tightly against the tug. Envelope open, she let the contents slide out onto the table.

A cell phone. Followed by a charger.

Tifa picked the phone up gingerly, as if there were more to it than appeared, as if it might be dangerous.

"Damn," Elena whistled over her shoulder. "That's one fine piece of technology."

And it was, a top-of-the-line, no expense spared cell phone. Tifa checked the envelope more carefully. No note, no explanation. Nothing but the phone.

"I don't know what this is all about. There's no explanation. How can I even be sure it's for me?"

Elena pulled up a chair next to her, extending a hand. "May I?"

Tifa handed her the phone. Just a touch, and the phone lit up in her hand, and Elena started tapping the screen.

"I'm not sure, but there's one contact. You know someone named Reno?"

Tifa grabbed the phone from her, nearly fumbling it to the floor in her disbelief.

"Seriously?" Sure enough, there it was, his name and number already programmed into the phone.

"So? Who is Reno?" Tifa cringed at the note of suggestion in Elena's voice.

"He's a Turk."

"Oh." Disappointment. Then, "OH! That makes this a company phone then, doesn't it? Like you're at their beck and call whenever that phone rings?"

The phone fell to the table, dropping from Tifa's fingers as if it had suddenly grown hot to the touch.

"We'll see about that."

The phone vibrated suddenly, making both women jump. Tifa leaned forward cautiously to peer at the unfamiliar screen.

"What does that mean?"

Elena leaned forward as well to see the little icon that had appeared on the screen.

"Looks like a text. Touch it and see."

It wasn't as if Tifa were techno-stupid. True, she wasn't familiar with this phone, which she would never have considered because of the impractical price, but she could figure things out as well as Elena. The problem was she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She wasn't sure how to receive an unexpected message on an unexpected phone from a man that she was inexplicably attracted to despite his lewdness and knowing not much more about him except for the fact that he was a Turk, which spoke volumes in and of itself. And not for the good.

She didn't want to know what that icon meant. She didn't want to touch it. She didn't want to see what he had to say, what he wanted, what he needed.

And, yet a small part of her did want. So she picked the phone up and touched the icon.

"7th heaven at 8"

What?

"Seventh Heaven?" Elena peered over her shoulder. "He doesn't mean that dive of a bar downtown, does he?"

Downtown was Elena's nice way of referring to the worst part of Edge. Tifa didn't know the answer to her question, but had to ask one for herself.

"How do you know about it if it's such a dive?"

"Oh my god, Tifa!" Elena let out a bark of laughter. "There's so much about me you just don't know, isn't there?" She got up and left the table, leaving Tifa staring after her wondering who, exactly, she was sharing an apartment with.

* * *

At seven forty-five, Tifa was asking herself what hellish insanity she was thinking, walking through such a neighborhood after dark to meet up with a Turk. It was a beautiful night, and she had been able to enjoy it right up until she had to worry about what might be lurking in the shadows around her. It was distracting, to say the least, and she had to consciously remind herself that Reno might be able to answer some questions about Aerith. And she needed to thank him. For whatever reason, he had done her a favor with the whole Hojo fiasco and from what she could figure, that deserved some kind of acknowledgement.

In a flash of neon, she caught sight of the dirty sign declaring her destination, Seventh Heaven, and a new pang of wariness bit at her. Did she even want to know what kind of place this was? What kind of place would Turks hang out in? Or maybe he wasn't hanging out? Maybe it was just a convenient location to do business? She was about to find out.

Hyper aware of every sound and movement around her, one sound caught her attention just as she was about to step off the curb to cross to the bar.

Reno's name.

Tifa stopped, pulling her foot back up to the curb and turning so she could listen more carefully. Had she imagined it?

"Oh, Reno. Please."

It was a girl's voice, playful, but approaching a high and whiney level that made Tifa wince. She couldn't imagine that men found that tone anything but irritating.

There was a mumbled response that Tifa couldn't quite make out, but it was Reno. She could see him now that she had turned completely around and was confronted with the scene in the alleyway behind her. Well, at least the silhouette of the scene. Reno was leaning against the wall, one foot braced on the concrete behind him, seemingly very relaxed. It was the red hair that gave him away, highlighted in the dim light coming from a doorway that was a few feet further behind him. Tifa couldn't make out the girl that was prancing around in front of him, but she was tall and extremely slim with a pouf of blue hair, and the tight fit of her clothing left little to the imagination about her feminine figure.

The girl took a step closer to Reno, one hand reaching out to finger the edge of his jacket, tugging it lightly and letting it go, then dropping lower to do it again. She was talking to him, too softly for Tifa to hear, and occasionally, he would mutter a response or simply nod or shake his head as his attention darted from her face to her hands. The third time, her hand reached waist level, and stayed a second or two longer. Unconsciously, Tifa took a step closer to the scene, trying to make out details hidden by the backlighting and the words being whispered, and was vaguely aware of her hand coming up to cover her mouth and the soft gasp she made as she realized the girl was working on the puzzle that was Reno's belt buckle. She tugged at it playfully, giggling a bit as Reno indulged her play, and finally got it free, but when she reached for the the waist of his pants, this time with both hands, Reno caught her wrists and swung them away, holding them from him as he walked her backwards in her teetering high heels until her back touched the far wall. Tifa could just make out his softly spoken words as he leaned into the girl.

"What're you begging for, yo?"

She shimmied against him, breaking her hands free to pull his hips flush with hers.

"You know what I want, Reno. Anything at all. Anything you're willing to give."

He was close enough to kiss her, and her face was turned up in anticipation, but he bypassed the kiss and seemed to rub cheeks with her instead.

Then, with complete intention, he turned his head to rest it on the girls' shoulder, letting her rub against him, hands skimming her hips, and looked directly at Tifa.

The breath caught in her throat, a lump she couldn't swallow past. Maybe she was imagining it. After all, the lighting was bad and she could barely make out the features on his face; perhaps it was just coincidence that he had turned his head this way.

Raising two fingers, Reno touched them to his lips and pointed them directly at her as if he were aiming a gun.

So much for coincidence.

That hand dropped back to the girls waist, then slid further down her leg to slip behind her knee, and lifted to wrap one long leg around his hip, his attention now completely on the woman in front of him, who had taken a sharp breath and gasped.

"Is this sorta what you had in mind, yo?" he questioned.

"God, yes," she groaned back, bucking her hips against him, and it was the last thing Tifa saw or heard as she bolted blindly down the street, away from the scene, away from the Turk. Away from her own completely fucked up, conflicted feelings.


	9. Chapter 9

_I've forgotten how much fun Reno can be. The way I figure him in this story, a woman would never know whether to slap him or kiss him. Which would you choose? Or maybe both? Hm._

_Enjoy, _

_fire mystic_

**IX**

Nearly falling as she tripped, Tifa finally stopped in her hasty retreat, leaning up against a wall as her lungs fought for much needed air. She had retreated blindly from the scene in the alley because that's all her mind seemed to be able to let her see. Even now, as she gauged her surroundings and realized she had no idea where she was and the potential for danger was high, her vision was still full of images of Reno pinning some tramp to a wall in an alley. Shaking her head, she tried yet again to shake the image as she tried to bring some sense and reason back.

The street was lit, barely, by a solitary light above a door across from her that cast just enough light for her to see it was a little hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop, which, of course, was closed for the night. There were a couple of other shops, dark and gated, and further down the street, there was a hint of another light from around the corner on another street. There wasn't a sign of another person anywhere along the street.

How the hell had she ended up here? What had she been thinking? Why had witnessing Reno's debauchery rattled her so? She just didn't have the answers.

Taking a few moments to regroup and pull her thoughts together, Tifa forced herself to focus on the here and now. She needed to concentrate on figuring out where she was and how to get home from here. That was priority. She could figure everything else out later. Cautiously, she approached the corner that hinted at another light source, supremely conscious of the sound of her movements in the silence of the shadows. She could hear herself breath, the rub of fabric as she moved, her own quiet footfalls. It was eerily disconcerting now that she was aware of it.

She was still a few feet from the corner, when a soft noise from somewhere behind her made her hesitate. Was she being followed? There was no way to be sure. It could, after all, be a rat or something moving along on it's search for dinner. Somehow, however, Tifa's gut didn't think so. Whether it was the way her luck had been going lately or something in the sound itself that set off an internal warning, she wasn't sure. It didn't matter; she knew better than to ignore her instincts. She kept moving toward the light. If she had to deal with idiots, better to do it where she could see them clearly.

The light around the corner proved to be another shop light hanging over a door, just like the sandwich shop, and the next light was a streetlamp on the far corner. And this street, like the last, seemed vacant. Tifa moved quickly , trying to cover the distance between the lights, sure that at some point she would have to run into people. Edge was never completely deserted. Sure enough, halfway down the block, she heard what she thought was the murmur of voices in the distance past the light, which was confirmed as a clear burst of laughter rang out. In the midst of that, she had also picked up that soft sound from behind her again, once, twice, and was sure now that if it was a rat following her, it was not the type of rat with a long, stringy tail. Finally, in the glow of the larger light, she turned to face her pursuer, half expecting to find nothing there but her overactive imagination.

The flash of metal, she was pretty sure, was not part of her imagination.

He was closer than she would have liked, and moving quickly, his long, greasy hair hiding only part of a scarred face that was twisted in concentration. She backed away, giving herself time to further assess the situation. Yes, he was armed, and he was moving like he knew how to use the knife. She needed to be careful here; weapons changed the rules of the game. Furthermore, she reminded herself, the bad guys never played by the rules anyway, which made them even more dangerous.

Without turning and making an outright run for it, she was out of time and options. She dodged the knife once, circling around and taking her fighting stance, hoping for the slim chance that if he knew she were a fighter, he would back off. It didn't work. He kept approaching, the smell from his ragged clothing now reaching her nostrils, and just as she was about to go on the offensive, his lip quirked up in a smile, which totally confused her until the two arms grabbed her from behind and she realized he was not alone.

Still worried about the knife, Tifa knew her first priority was to get away from the guy that was holding onto her so tightly. She fought bitterly for a few minutes, temporarily losing track of the guy with the knife as panic managed to surge and take her breath. She may have been trained, but her practical experience with her fighting skills was limited. While she wasn't worried about hurting her attackers, she knew that putting her skills to the test in the gym was one thing but that out here there was a real potential for her to get hurt as well. Seriously.

Her captor grunted as her foot made solid contact with the joint of his ankle, and she just managed to break free of his grip as it loosened, in pain or surprise she wasn't sure, but it didn't matter as long as she was free. Her satisfaction was short-lived as the guy with the knife closed in on her in her moment of victory, and she was forced to step right back into the arms of the guy she had just escaped.

Except his arms weren't where they were supposed to be, and instead of being caught, Tifa tripped over him instead. Falling backwards, she let the momentum carry her through in a backward roll, and came up ready to defend herself. There was no need. The larger man that had grabbed her was still on the ground, rolling a bit and clutching himself, moaning as if in pain, and the man with the knife was dodging a whirlwind of motion that took him to the ground in short order and zapped him in the chest with what looked like a short cattle prod. And Tifa couldn't have been more surprised to find Reno at the other end of the weapon.

The man on the ground twitched a bit, and Reno zapped him again, this time in the throat, in the soft spot right below the chin.

"I told you to stay down, yo."

The man made a gargling noise in response, and then went still at Reno's feet. Reno remained standing over the guy, the electric prod pointed down in such a way to catch the guy if he tried to get up. Not that he was going to be getting up soon, if at all, Tifa thought. Was he even breathing?

And then Reno turned his head, his bright eyes twinkling mischievously at her through a few strands of long red hair, and just like that, the two men on the ground didn't exist anymore.

"Hey Lockhart. You lost, yo?"

* * *

"I WANTED TO KILL HIM!"

Elena could do nothing but stare at her, because if she opened her mouth right now, she just might burst out into laughter, and she suspected that might not be a good thing at this moment. Tifa was on a tear the likes of which Elena had never witnessed from her, and it would have been frightening if it weren't so amusing.

Tifa had come through the door half an hour before, slamming it so hard that the door had bounced behind her. She was halfway across the apartment before she realized she had to go back and make sure it was shut, and then angrily threw every lock solidly into place. She passed by Elena, whose head had appeared around the edge of her bedroom door, eyes crinkled in concern, and stormed into her own room, the door closing with a resounding bang behind her.

Elena had dawdled in the hall for a while wondering if she should knock on Tifa's door and try to get her to talk about whatever had riled her to this point, or if she should just let it go and let Tifa come out in her own time on her own terms. It wasn't long before Tifa had come flying back out of the bedroom on a tear for the kitchen.

"I DON'T want to talk about it!" She had spit out emphatically as she passed by. Elena had shrugged, but followed Tifa to the kitchen anyway and watched as Tifa proceeded to rearrange everything on the counters with short, jerky movements. Elena didn't interfere until Tifa opened the cabinet and pulled out the coffee.

"Oh, no you don't," Elena had intervened, deftly snatching the coffee from Tifa's hand, putting it back in the cabinet and holding the door shut in one swooping movement. "You don't have to tell me about it, but you're not adding caffeine to the problem!"

"Elena..." The tone of warning was unmistakeable.

"How about I fix you a nice hot cup of chamomile tea?"

"Are you kidding me?" Tifa exploded at her. "How can you deny me coffee at a time like this and then offer me TEA?"

"It's tea or nothing," she made her final offer sincerely.

Tifa had dragged a chair out and humphed into it, folding her arms like a petulant child. "Tea it is then. But I'm still not talking about it."

Elena took her time making the tea, carefully watching Tifa out of the corner of her eye. She liked Tifa, enjoyed sharing a place with her, working with her, but had never seen her so upset. Maybe with a little TLC she would open up and share what was bothering her.

Tea made, they had been brooding over it for a few minutes, Elena trying to be patient, Tifa obviously still stewing, when Elena decided that maybe she should at least open the proverbial door and at least let Tifa know that she was willing to listen.

"I take it the meeting didn't go too well?" She offered, and that was when Tifa had exploded.

What followed was a run-on, breathless description of the night's events, from her walk into "the worst part of Edge" to her discovery of Reno with "that tart" and, fuck, how she couldn't get the image of Reno pinning some tramp to a wall in an alley blocked out of her head, to how Reno had seen her, SEEN HER, which meant he may have done it on purpose, set the whole thing up, and even so, all that kept circling in her head was that image of him, leaning into that tramp, offering her what she wanted, as if the whole scene with the secretary at Shinra hadn't been lewd enough, the thought of Reno following through with what he promised in such a primal way, or the way he had cornered Tifa since then, pressing himself against her intentionally with a suggestive offer, and then Tifa was running, getting lost in an even worse part of Edge, which she hadn't even known existed, for heaven's sake, but she couldn't concentrate because of that IMAGE, and then she was attacked and it was Reno who intervened and probably saved her ass, and how he looked at her through his hair, that smug expression on his fucking face, and how she imagined that's how he was looking at her when he was with that tramp, and "I WANTED TO KILL HIM!".

And with that declaration, the words dried up as quickly as they had started, leaving Elena the task of figuring out where, exactly, it fit into the story. She couldn't assign it to one particular moment or another, and decided that it may not be the best time to ask for clarification. In fact, she couldn't really be sure of the timeline in Tifa's story; there had obviously been parts of it that hadn't happened that night, but that Tifa had kept to herself and couldn't keep any longer. Her last statement could have applied to all of those moments. Elena was left to piece it all together in the best way she could, because Tifa didn't seem in any frame of mind to make sense of it for her, but was now sitting across the table staring at Elena as if she were waiting for some epiphany, as if Elena might be able to shed some light on the situation that would help Tifa come to terms with her conflicted feelings.

Taking a sip of her own tea, using it as a delay tactic so she had an extra second or two to think, Elena put her cup down, pushed aside the urge to laugh at Tifa's melodramatic delivery, summed up what she could and asked the first serious question that came to mind.

"Has it occurred to you that maybe you wanted to be the one he was pinning to the wall?"


End file.

Final Fantasy VII, Romance