Variations

Chapter 7: Pas de Deux

We were briefed about the party Samantha had told us about the next day. I’d expected to be called to Tseng’s office, but he came to meet us in the lounge. From day one, things have been following a downward trend in terms of formality. We were all there. St. Andrew, Cyr, Reno and Rafe were shouting at the TV. More accurately, St. Andrew and Reno were. Cyr and Rafe were just watching. I think it was a football game or something. Rude was playing cards with Rodney, Samantha was reading a book (some stupid romance novel, from all the giggling she did), and I was flipping through a catalogue, trying to figure out what exactly one wears to a dinner party, when Tseng came down.
 

“Ah, you’re all here. Good, good. I have your assignments for the party…” Tseng began.
 

“God damn it! Pass, moron, for the love of god, pass!” St. Andrew wailed, burying his fingers in his hair and closing his eyes.
 

Whatever St. Andrew was upset about, Reno was ecstatic. “That’s fifty gil, Andrew! Hah!”
 

“Cyr, if you could turn that off, please,” Tseng requested. “I have your assignments…”
 

St. Andrew made a grab for the remote as Cyr flicked the TV off. “Hey, no! It’s not over yet! C’mon…”
 

“Lakeside is fifty points down,” Rafe said firmly. “They aren’t going pull it together in the last five minutes. Our assignments are more important.”
 

“But…”
 

Rafe reached over and unplugged the TV. “Continue please, sir.”
 

Tseng nodded his thanks and cleared his throat. “Right. Well, as you know, this is a pretty big deal. Shinra’s parties are always strategic covers for business. This one is in regards to the current situation with AVALANCHE.”
 

Somehow, this made me feel better. At least I’d have something to talk about. I’ve never been to a party, let alone a fancy Shinra one. I had no idea how to act or what to say, or how to treat the people I was talking to.
 

Tseng continued. “The party is going to be held at the Fort Condor embassy. Because of the militant nature of these insurgents, it’s suspected that they may be part of another move by Fort Condor.”
 

“Jesus Christ. Fort Condor again? Why in the hell would they make a move like that? We’ve been fine with Fort Condor ever since the war and with the Cannon…why would they do that?” Reno demanded. I wondered if this outburst was because of his memories of Fort Condor. I know I didn’t want another war.
 

“All we have are theories,” Tseng answered, shrugging. “And this is one of them. We think Fort Condor may be acting in this way to draw suspicion away from themselves. They’re not giving us anything to point the Cannon at.”
 

Rude had leaned back in his chair and looked troubled. “We’re looking at the embassy in Midgar because…?”
 

“Because of their awareness of our move in Costa del Sol,” Tseng answered. “And of other movements, of the Turks and of SOLDIER. According to some of the recovered candidates, Shears told them about specific details of the SOLDIER process. We don’t know how they know this, but it points to a leak within Midgar, possibly a leak within Shinra.”
 

“Goddamn,” Reno murmured. “A leak?”
 

Tseng held up a hand. “Don’t worry about that. At present, all we have are theories. You’ll be informed to any changes in the situation as it progresses. For now, we need all of you concentrating on the party.”
 

We all nodded. None of us said anything. This party was a bigger deal than all of us had thought.
 

“All right. Our overall objective is to get into the ambassador’s office and perform a quick sweep for sensitive documents. We’ll need to keep the majority of us in the room with the action. Two of you are going to head for the ambassador’s office.”
 

“Do we know who’s who?” Cyr questioned.
 

“Your positions have all been established. This entire operation will be coordinated, from our entrance, to the distraction, to your movements in and out of the office. Everything. This is a very, very delicate procedure. Relations with Fort Condor have been tense since the war. We don’t want to spook them into anything.”
 

Reno arched an eyebrow. “This seems like a lot to risk on a hunch.”
 

Tseng shrugged. “It’s Shinra’s decision.” He shifted an armload of folders he’d brought, and started handing them around. “These are the details of your assignments. All of you have your assigned actions, positions, and duties.”
 

He handed me mine and I thumbed through it quickly. It was exactly like the case study mission outlines for the tests we’d done in the Academy. These were reserved for more complexly timed and coordinated missions. Time tables, diagrams, written directives, and outlines filled the report. Each one was different. Mine related my directives according to who I’d be working with and what my goals were. I had a brief outline of what would be going on throughout the entirety of the mission, but no details regarding the jobs of anyone not in direct contact with me. That was good. There was enough to memorize already. I glanced over at Reno, wondering how on earth he could possibly handle something like this. I guess he must manage somehow or other, though.
 

St. Andrew whistled lowly, skimming over the mission statement. “Good god. This seems like quite the length to go to for information we think might help us. You’re bringing in a TDT?”
 

TDT is an acronym for Tactical Diversion Team. They’re a team of professionals who stage all kinds of things. According to this mission statement, they’d be staging a hostage taking. I continued to read. I was glad I’d have little part in the actual strike. I’d get some kind of stage fright, I was sure.
 

Tseng nodded. “We want as much confusion among the diplomats as possible. We want everyone on the floor with their hands over their heads. We want security disabled. We want Shinra’s Special Forces called in. And, of course, we want you to save the day. A few of you might even get shot.”
 

“This seems terribly elaborate,” Cyr murmured.
 

“Not to worry, Cyr. We’ll run through it a few times for practice.”
 

Reno snorted. “Yeah right, Tseng. We’ll run through it like fifty times. I’ve done a few of these before. You’ll be doing this in your sleep by the time we’re done drilling.”
 

Tseng cleared his throat. “Right. Well, we’ve got a mockup of the embassy set up on the training floor. Study your statements and we’ll start rehearsing tomorrow. I want this thing timed down to the wire. No screw ups.”
 

After Tseng had left, Reno cleared his throat. “There’s a hell of a lot he’s not telling us,” he announced morosely, studying his assignment.
 

I was confused. Tseng had given us a mission. I hadn’t gotten the feeling he’d said any less than he’d needed to. “What makes you say that, sir?”
 

Reno shrugged. “Just a feeling. The higher-ups know more about this deal than we do, that’s for sure. To me, it doesn’t make sense to be looking at Fort Condor. The motivation behind this AVALANCHE attack is some kind of environmental thing, right? Regarding the use of Mako? Well, Fort Condor is just as bad for Mako usage as we are.”
 

“Maybe it’s a cover?” Rafe suggested, looking up from studying his assignment. “Maybe the whole environmentalist thing is just their way of diverting suspicion.”
 

“Maybe,” Reno agreed dubiously, getting up. “Aww…hell. I dunno. I just know I’m going to bed now, because we’re gonna be drilling from dawn ‘til dusk tomorrow. I hate these kinda missions. Too complicated and there’s too much pressure. Oh well. I’m going to bed.”
 

*
 

The party was a week later and we were all ready. Reno had been right. We’d drilled and drilled, every single day, until we knew what was going to happen in every possible situation, and even some that seemed impossible. Now came the hard part; the actual party.
 

“You look fine, Rosalind,” Tseng assured me, as I tucked my hair behind my ears. It was about the twelfth time I’d done it, since we’d gotten into the limo headed for the embassy.
 

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m just very, very nervous,” I explained, lifting a hand to chew on my fingernails.
 

Reno reached over and pulled my hand down. “Cut it out, rookie. You just had a manicure and you’re gonna wreck it. Settle down. You really do look great.”
 

Everybody kept saying it, but I sure didn’t feel so. I wished fervently I could’ve just worn my uniform, like the boys had gotten to, but no. Thankfully, the company had supplied the dress I was wearing. I really hadn’t had any idea what I was going to wear. I suppose it could’ve been worse. Samantha was wearing a brilliant green cocktail dress that you couldn’t have gotten me into, orders or no orders. She’d dressed it up by wearing a ton of jewelry, all emeralds and diamonds. She also had a silver barreled rifle. Rod had his hand on her leg. I really can’t understand those two.
 

Cyr wore something a little more…well, a lot more daring. Her dress was dark red and tied around her neck, leaving her back, arms, and a substantial amount of her chest uncovered. She had swept her long dark hair up somehow or other (I really can’t understand how people do these kinds of things with their hair. I can’t get mine to do anything) and she really looked good. From the way he was staring, St. Andrew evidently thought so, too. Instead of the standard weighted gloves, like Rafe and Rude were wearing, Cyr had opted for two handfuls of heavy gold rings. She may as well have been wearing brass knuckles.
 

Whoever had picked out my dress was merciful enough to pick something modest. It was light blue, with narrow straps, and a pearl necklace and earrings to go with it. I had a silver chain around my waist, doubling as holster for my gun. St. Andrew had leant me a beautiful old six-shooter, with a mother-of-pearl handle. I don’t know much about fashion and things, but I thought it went really well with what I was wearing.
 

And, of course, the boys were all in their suits. I looked over at Reno, who was staring out the window next to me. It’s odd, whenever I see Reno in uniform; he’s always a mess. Well, not really a mess, exactly. It’s just that his jacket is never buttoned up, his shirt is never buttoned up or tucked in, his shoes are never tied, and I don’t think he even owns a tie. And yet, regardless of how renowned the Turks are for being crisp and suave and professional, you can’t mistake him for anything else. I suppose it’s just the way he carries himself. That or the dog tags. Mine are tucked beneath my shirt, but his are always visible, right against his skin. I think he’d made a bit of an effort towards being a little more together tonight, (his shirt was tucked in) but on the whole, he still looked like he’d fallen off the back of a truck.
 

“Everybody understands their objectives, right?” Tseng asked, peering out the window as we approached the embassy.
 

Rafe chuckled. “Yes, sir. We also understand everybody else’s objectives. I could probably do Samantha’s part just as well as I could do mine.”
 

“Right. Well, people, just remember to act natural until we get the signal. And after that, I want things to be fluid. We aren’t expecting any heroics from these people…they’re diplomats and businessmen, after all…but all the same, sometimes they surprise you.”
 

We pulled up the long driveway of the embassy, lined with topiaries and fountains. However rough and rugged Fort Condor was, the ambassador apparently wanted to show a little culture.
 

Tseng leaned forward as the car pulled to a stop in front of the main entrance. “All right, ladies and gentlemen. Best behavior, big smiles, and for god’s sake, remember to be politically correct. Reno, that means you.”
 

Reno muttered something under his breath and the door opened. Rude grunted and stepped out, unfolding his long legs and straightening his suit. Flashbulbs clicked and reporters shouted questions as he headed up the long red carpet to the entrance.
 

I paled beneath the make up I was wearing. “Th-there are reporters here?” I stammered, as Rod got out, Samantha close behind with her arm around his waist.
 

“Well, of course, Rosalind. It’s a meeting of the leaders of two of the world’s most powerful nations,” Tseng explained as Rafe got out of the car.
 

“Don’t worry about it, Rosalind,” St. Andrew added, glancing at Cyr. “Shall we?”
 

Cyr smiled briefly. “Oh, if it makes you happy.”
 

St. Andrew beamed at her and got out, holding out a hand to Cyr. She stepped out gracefully and allowed him to lead her down the red carpet, smiling distantly and nodding to reporters.
 

“Rookie, you’re shaking!” Reno exclaimed, touching my arm. He glanced at Tseng. “Go on, I’ll be out in a minute.”
 

“I’m s-sorry, sir, b-but I didn’t th-think there’d be reporters,” I whispered as Tseng stepped out of the limo.
 

Reno patted my shoulder. “It’s all right, rookie. Just get out and get it over with.”
 

“I c-can’t! What if I trip or something?” I was terrified. The thought of having my picture in the newspaper was absolutely abhorrent to me. So much of what the Turks do is done in secret. We’re almost never seen and recognized in public. Let alone out of uniform. I couldn’t be seen like this. Not in this dress, not with this hair, not with these shoes. I didn’t look professional. “M-maybe I’ll just wait until they’re gone and slip in the back…”
 

Reno glanced outside. “No, rookie. We gotta go, they’re waiting for us. C’mon. Me and you will go together, all right? You’ll be fine.”
 

“But, sir…”
 

“Rookie, you’ve been in firefights, you’ve taken down guys three times your size, you’ve stared the leader of AVALANCHE in the face and lived to tell about it…and you’re scared of a few reporters? Nuh uh. I don’t believe that. Now we’re going in.”
 

Before I could protest, he’d stepped out of the car and held out a hand to me. “Either you come with me now, or you go in on your own,” he said softly.
 

That was a very cruel way of doing things, but it worked. Reluctantly I took his hand and got out. I was just about blinded by about sixty flashbulbs and I felt my knees start to shake.
 

“Come on now, rookie,” Reno murmured, offering me his arm. I took it shakily and followed him down the carpet, eyes down. “This is easy stuff.”
 

“If you say so, sir,” I mumbled, positive my cheeks were flaming.
 

It seemed to take forever, but we finally got inside the building. It was bright and warmly lit and, honestly, to me it looked more like a hotel than an embassy. There were attendants everywhere, and a large mahogany front desk. The heels of my shoes sank into the deep carpet and I kept a tight hold of Reno’s arm, praying I wouldn’t fall. I knew I should’ve asked for flat shoes. And these were supposed to be low heels.
 

“Ah, more Turks,” an attendant pronounced, sweeping over and directing us to the elevator. “The party is on the fourth floor,” he informed us.
 

“Thanks,” Reno answered graciously. “C’mon, rookie, we’ve got a party to crash.”
 

“R-right, sir.” I managed to keep my balance and walk over to the elevator. The doors slid shut behind us and soft music played as Reno pressed the button for the fourth floor. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the bright spots left on my retinas from all the cameras.
 

Reno touched my shoulder. “Rookie, no crying. Not now,” he said firmly. “You’ll wreck your makeup.”
 

I nodded and blushed. “I’m just seeing stars from all the flashing, sir. I’ll be all right.”
 

“Good.”
 

I sighed and looked up at the old fashioned dial, counting up the floors. Nervously, I toyed with the necklace I was wearing. I couldn’t wait for the beginning of the mission. That would be something I could handle. Trying to mingle with a roomful of people of a higher social class than mine was going to be hard.
 

Reno glanced at me. “You really do look pretty tonight, rookie,” he said encouragingly. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
 

“I’ll try, sir,” I promised. It was the least I could do. I didn’t think I was going to do well, but the least I could do was try.
 

The elevator doors opened. The party was already going. I saw some Shinra executives I recognized, standing off to the side with their wives on their arms, or waltzing across the dance floor, or clustered around the buffet table. I also picked out my comrades, all hanging discreetly around the President. The rest I didn’t recognize and these were presumably representatives from Fort Condor.
 

“Rosalind, honey, we have to get off the elevator,” Reno reminded me gently, giving me a little nudge. “And I know you’re nervous, but I think I’m losing circulation to my fingers. Relax, just a little.”
 

I blinked and glanced at his arm. I was still clinging to him like a child to a toy. I blushed furiously and let go, promptly losing my balance as I stepped away and the heel of my shoe slipped on the hardwood floor.
 

“Whoa, rookie!” Reno caught my elbow and saved me from what would have been a terribly embarrassing fall. “It’s all right. You’ve gotta calm down,” he urged, leading me over to a chair by the wall and sitting me down.
 

“I’m really sorry,” I apologized, my cheeks growing hot. “I…I’m just…”
 

“You aren’t used to all these aristocrats. I know.” Reno crouched on the floor in front of me. “I’ve been there, rookie. It’s disgusting how rich these people are. Me and you come from the same kinda background. I spent years of my life absolutely hating these kinda people for what they had and what I didn’t.”
 

I nodded. I understood perfectly. The first time I was brought above the plate in Midgar, the first time I saw the sky, I was absolutely awed by the people there. They were clean, they were well dressed, and they walked the streets without fear. I felt nothing but awe and envy.
 

Reno shrugged. “It’s the way the world works. Some get shit, some get lobster. It’s not fair, but it’s not like it’s something we can change.”
 

“Sir, it’s just…” I trailed off. I still had my doubts. I had no idea how I was supposed to act. These people were so different from me.
 

Reno seemed to sense I was still uncertain and put a hand on my knee reassuringly. “You listen, rookie, they aren’t any better than you or me. They aren’t gonna understand us, we aren’t gonna understand them, and it doesn’t do any good to try.”
 

“Then what do I talk about, sir? If we have no common ground…”
 

Reno laughed. “Rookie, every Midgarian has some common ground. Talk about the weather. Talk about how great Midgar is, talk about how great Mako is, talk about the stresses of being a Turk…nothing confidential, mind, but blow a couple minds.”
 

I felt a bit better. “You really think I’ll be okay, sir?”
 

“You’ll be fine, rookie,” Reno assured me, patting my knee. “You just have to relax. Here, I’ll go get you a drink. You stay right here, and I’ll be back, and then we’ll go meet some nice, docile trophy wives. How’s that? They’ll be all drunk and giggly and they’ll gush about your hair and your dress and how nicely you’ve accessorized your gun…”
 

I laughed. “All right, sir.”
 

“Good, good. Okay. I’ll be right back. Sit tight, rookie,” Reno said, winking and standing up.
 

I sighed as he crossed the room to the bar. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. At least Reno was going to stay around and help me. I glanced up at a clock and pushed my hair behind my ears. We would move as soon as the signal came. At least I’d have someone for support.
 

“Excuse me?”
 

The speaker had a soft, smooth voice, with a sophisticated, lilting accent; I looked up sharply at Rufus Shinra. “O-oh…Mr. Shinra…uh…sir, I’m sorry…was this your seat?”
 

Rufus laughed. He was tall and had blondish red hair and startling blue eyes. He wore a white, tailored suit, with a black shirt and tie underneath. “Oh, no. I just noticed you were sitting alone and I thought I’d come introduce myself…”
 

I blushed. “W-well…I’m Rosalind Kramer, sir.”
 

“So that’s your name,” Rufus smiled at me. His teeth were even, white, and perfectly straight. “I saw you, in Junon. I was very impressed with your work.”
 

“Th-thank you, sir,” I stammered.
 

“Please, Rosalind, call me Rufus.” He paused. “If you would like…would you want to come and meet some of my father’s associates?”
 

“O-oh…I don’t know, sir…I hardly know anyone here and…”
 

Rufus held out his arm. “Please, Rosalind. It would mean very much to me to introduce you to some of these people. I’m not the only one who’s wanted to meet you. You’re a remarkably talented agent.”
 

I blushed. “I just do my best, sir.”
 

Rufus laughed. “Your best is rapidly becoming the company’s best. Now please, come along.”
 

“W-well…all right.” I stood up and took his arm. He smiled at me and rested his hand on mine, leading me over to some executives, who were standing by the buffet table. Somehow I found myself in possession of a glass of wine, while Rufus regaled whoever happened to be listening with tales of what I had done in Junon. Every once in a while, I tried to protest, but Rufus always dismissed my objections as modesty.
 

Eventually, he whisked me away to the dance floor. I glanced up at the clock. Almost an hour had passed while we were talking. I blinked, surprised. It had seemed more like five minutes.
 

He steered my left hand to his shoulder and took my right in his own. Then he moved to the center of the dance floor and all of a sudden we were dancing. I’d never danced before in my life and yet here I was, soft jazz playing in the background, Rufus Shinra’s hand on my waist, and I was dancing. I felt light-headed. I thought maybe it was the wine, until I spotted my glass, abandoned on a table, totally untouched.
 

“You know…uh…” Rufus trailed off and looked down, embarrassed. “I…well…I wasn’t just watching your work for professional reasons…”
 

“Sir?”
 

“Rufus,” he corrected gently, smiling. He blushed slightly. “I…uh…I didn’t think this would be so awkward,” he said sheepishly.
 

I smiled at him. I was comfortable. He was charming and kind and complimentary. “Go on,” I encouraged. A shiver tingled down my spine. I was being coy. I was flirting. With the President’s son.
 

“Well…I…er…” I was also making the President’s son nervous. I seem to have some kind of effect on the Shinra family. “I…I think you’re very attractive and…and now that I’ve had a chance to talk with you I…I’m…god, I’m embarrassed.”
 

“It’s all right, you’re doing fine,” I answered, still smiling.
 

Rufus flushed. “I…I really like you. You’re sweet and charming and…and brave. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
 

I laughed. “I haven’t ever met anyone like you either.”
 

“Would you like to…to have dinner with me sometime?” Rufus asked, looking around. “Not…not like this…I mean, just you and I.”
 

“I’d like that,” I agreed, very, very pleased with myself.
 

Rufus smiled warmly. “Great…just great…Rosalind, I…”
 

“’Scuse me?” Reno interrupted, tapping Rufus on the shoulder. “I’m gonna be cutting in here for a second, sir, just a second…need to have a word with my rookie, thank you.”
 

Even if he is only the President’s son, Reno really oughtn’t to have shoved him out the way like that. Nevertheless, Rufus left, and Reno took his place, glancing around the room nervously. “Jesus, rookie, what the hell is your game?” he hissed. “We move in one minute and you’re flirting with Rufus?”
 

“I was not!” I protested angrily.
 

“Oh, right,” he drew the word out sarcastically, glancing at his watch. “Christ. We don’t need complications right now, rookie. And you watch out for Rufus. He’s a damn tricky bastard.”
 

I was offended by this. Reno had absolutely no business involving himself in my personal life. “I don’t like how you’re talking to me,” I said coldly.
 

“Just trust me, rookie, he’s trouble,” Reno answered, just as coldly.
 

I might have answered, but at that moment, about a dozen men, dressed in black and all armed with machine guns and rifles burst into the room, shouting at all of us to get on the floor. They shot into the air, bringing down a crystal chandelier onto the center of the dance floor, sending shards of glass flying everywhere.
 

Screams echoed from all around, as the fifty party guests all got down on the floor. I crouched down beside a table near the elevator with Reno, his body partially blocking mine, just like we’d rehearsed.
 

“All right, you’re all hostages of Hurricane! Now, all of you get crawling to the middle of the floor, hands behind your heads!” one of them shouted. His comrades spread out, kicked at guests, and herded them to the middle of the floor.
 

Obediently, Reno and I stared to move to the center of the floor, when one of the terrorists stepped in front of us. “You and you,” he snarled, jerking his machine gun at us. “Get up, hands behind your heads.”
 

I glanced at Reno and we both got up slowly, keeping our fingers laced together behind our heads. The terrorist grabbed my belt and gave it a solid yank, snapping the metal chain and throwing it to the floor. I gasped sharply. It hadn’t actually hurt; the clasp of the belt had been weakened so it would come off easily. It was the only bit of acting I would have to do all night.
 

The man then removed Reno’s nightstick from the front pocket of his jacket, tossing it to the ground. “Now move, both of you, to the elevator,” he snarled.
 

“Wait!”
 

“Shit,” I heard Reno breathe as all the guns in the room swiveled to point at Rufus Shinra, who had half risen from the ground.
 

“Leave her here, take me!” Rufus shouted, keeping his hands behind his head. My breath caught and I felt tears in my eyes at how noble he was being.
 

The “terrorists” glanced quickly at one another, and then their leader nodded. “Take him too,” he snapped. “Now move it.”
 

One of the other men kicked Rufus solidly and he stumbled to his feet, having trouble keeping his balance with his hands behind his head. “Get to the elevator.”
 

The man behind Reno and I nudged me in the back with his machine gun and I walked swiftly forward to the elevator and stepped on. Reno and Rufus followed shortly, and then the two terrorists.
 

“Rosalind, are you…?” Rufus started to ask as the elevator doors slid shut, but Reno interrupted him.
 

“Cram it, dumbass,” he snapped, glancing at his watch. “Shit. If you throw a wrench in this thing, Rufus, I swear to god I’ll kill you. Smith, we need the second floor. Wesson, Rosalind and I need radio links. Are the security cameras on loop?”
 

“Yes, sir,” one of the “terrorists” answered swiftly, pressing the button for the second floor and handing me an earpiece, then clipping a microphone to my dress. He lifted his wrist to his mouth and said “Testing, testing…alpha, beta, Charlie…you good to go, ma’am?”
 

I nodded, wincing as the earpiece whined from the proximity of the radios. “Yes, I’m good.”
 

Rufus was staring around the elevator, bewildered. “What…I…what’s going on here? Does my father…?”
 

Reno looked up from clipping his microphone to his lapel. “Do us a favor, dipshit, and keep your mouth shut. God damn. Why couldn’t you be a good old cowardly hostage, like the rest of them?” he asked, irritated. “We didn’t run this one, that’s for sure.”
 

Rufus flushed angrily. “Now listen, agent! I don’t know what is going on here, but I…”
 

The elevator chimed and Reno stepped off, into a plainly decorated hallway, ignoring Rufus. “Wesson, where the hell’s that ladder?” he demanded, glancing around. “And give me some duct tape.”
 

“Right here, sir! Sorry, sir!” Wesson opened a closet and pulled out a stepladder, unfolding it and setting it up in front of the elevator. The other agent, Smith, handed him a roll of duct tape, which he slid over his wrist.
 

Reno climbed up easily and pushed open a vent cover, hoisting himself inside. He reached down and one of the pseudo-terrorists handed him the cover. “You get down to the ambassador’s office, Rosalind,” he ordered sharply. “Smith and Wesson, patrol the corridor. When you hear sirens, disappear. We’ll take it from there.”
 

“Right, sir!”
 

Reno pulled the vent cover closed behind him, the two black suited men hid the ladder again and started patrolling up and down the hallway, and Rufus and I were left standing in front of the elevator, staring rather stupidly at each other.
 

“Well…” I began awkwardly, blushing.
 

“Ambassador’s office, rookie,” Reno told me shortly and static hissed in my ear. “Now.”
 

I clenched my teeth and headed down the corridor. “Come on,” I said, taking Rufus by the arm.
 

Rufus followed me, evidently still confused. “Uh…Rosalind…I had no idea what was going on back there…”
 

“We’re on a reconnaissance mission. We’re checking the office of the Fort Condor Ambassador for any kind of information pertaining to AVALANCHE,” I explained quickly, glancing up at the ceiling. “Reno’s going into the office through the vents and will let us…will let me in from the inside.”
 

“Oh…why not just break the door code?” Rufus asked, reaching toward the keypad.
 

I caught his hand. “Because a wrong entry will trigger the security system.”
 

Rufus flushed again. “I see…Rosalind, I’m sorry…I didn’t know what you were planning or else I wouldn’t have…well, I mean…I would have if I…I…I’m sorry.”
 

“No, Rufus,” I protested immediately, smiling adoringly at him. “What you did was…I thought it was very brave. I’ve never had anyone risk their life like that for me.”
 

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Reno muttered in my ear. “I’ve done it. Please, rookie, this is tough enough already. Let’s not add the induction of vomiting into the equation, mmm’k?”
 

I flushed angrily. “Maybe you should concentrate on your objective, sir,” I said shortly.
 

“Is he always this difficult?” Rufus murmured.
 

Reno snorted irritably into the microphone; evidently he could also hear what Rufus was saying. “Yes, I’m always this difficult. Shit, Rosalind, stick the joker back on the elevator.”
 

Sirens picked up in the distance. “Bye, ma’am!” one of the pseudo-terrorists yelled, and the pair vanished down the stairwell.
 

“Sir, special forces are coming,” I said urgently into my microphone.
 

“I heard, I heard…”
 

Rufus paled slightly. “Special forces…our special forces? If we’re caught here…tell him to pick up the pace, Rosalind.”
 

“Tell the asshole that I am in a fucking vent right now. Ask him if he wants to do this. There’s about ten feet of space between me and my objective and it’s a little too cozy for my liking in here. So…”
 

I didn’t hear the rest of what he said, plucking my earpiece from my ear irritably. I wasn’t going to be the liaison in some childish little insult war. I glanced at Rufus. “I’m sorry about him, really…”
 

“It’s all right,” Rufus told me. “It’s not your fault.”
 

“He’s just being such an…” I trailed off as Rufus put his hand to the side of my face and tilted my chin up, pressing his lips firmly against mine. Suddenly, the security alarm started blaring. It just about deafened me, but I really didn’t care. I closed my eyes and felt his hand on my back. This definitely wasn’t part of the plan.
 

The door of the ambassador’s office opened. “Oh, Jesus…for god’s sake could you two lay off?” Reno demanded angrily. “Rookie, get your ass in here and do your goddamn job.”
 

Rufus pulled back and glared at Reno. “You really oughtn’t talk to a lady like that,” he began. “Honestly, if you had any respect for her as a person…”
 

“I don’t care if she’s the Virgin fucking Mary, we’re here on business. Wait in the hall,” Reno snapped, pulling me into the office and glancing at his watch again. “This whole thing is going straight to hell. We have three minutes.”
 

I was absolutely fuming. I reached into the front of my dress and pulled out my cell phone camera, stalking over to the desk and snapping pictures of the documents. I barely noticed the beautiful old décor of the room. Reno went over the filing cabinet and thumbed through it quickly, snapping his own pictures of the file folders.
 

“The sirens are getting louder,” Rufus announced, coming into the office. “I really think we should leave.”
 

Reno ignored him, going over to the paper shredder and sifting quickly through the contents. Rufus went over to the filing cabinet Reno had been looking at and leafed through the contents curiously. I looked up sharply as I heard shouting outside. “Sir, we have to go, now!”
 

Snapping his cell phone shut, Reno tucked it into his front pocket and stood up. “We aren’t going,” he said shortly, crossing the room. He grabbed Rufus by the shoulder and spun him around. “I apologize for this,” he said tersely, insincerely, and then punched Rufus squarely in the face.
 

“Sir!” I exclaimed, horrified, as Rufus crumpled to the ground. I moved to help him, but Reno grabbed my elbow and slipped the roll of duct tape from his wrist, pulling my hands in front of me and wrapping tape tightly around my hands.
 

“If you remember, rookie, we were abducted by terrorists,” he explained shortly, opening a closet and ushering me in, taking the microphone from my dress and pocketing it along with his own.
 

“How could you, sir?” I demanded furiously.
 

“I actually kind of enjoyed it,” he answered diffidently, tearing off a piece of tape and sticking it over my mouth. “My apologies, rookie.”
 

I glared at him, furious, as he stepped in and pulled the closet door closed. My fingers clenched and unclenched and Reno took advantage of their unclenching to loop the roll of duct tape over my fingers and tape his own wrists.
 

“Thank you, rookie.” He bent close to my hands and tore the tape off with his teeth, knocking it to the floor of the closet. “Now make sure you kick up a ruckus when the special ops get here, or we could be stuck in here for quite a while.”
 

I don’t know what I would’ve said if my mouth hadn’t been taped shut, but seeing as I couldn’t talk, I settled for twisting my arms in front of me, drawing them across my face, and ramming Reno in the forehead with my elbows.
 

However angry I might have been, this turned out not to be the greatest idea in the world, because the space in the closet was already limited, and when he managed a choked cry and collapsed, he fell against me, rather than to the floor.
 

I was beginning to think that the embassy at Fort Condor was my unlucky city. After all, it wasn’t actually part of Midgar and so far this had been just about one of the worst missions I’d ever done. Being trapped in a tiny closet with a hundred and seventy or so pounds of Reno leaning on me, what I thought was a golf bag with a five-iron poking into my back, and my hands and mouth taped was not my idea of a productive mission.
 

I thought I heard voices down the hallway, and started beating my hands as hard as I could against the door of the closet, hoping they would hear. This hadn’t been part of the plan.
 

“In here! Oh, Christ, it’s the President’s son…get the paramedics in here, on the double!” a gruff voice shouted from outside. I pounded on the door again, praying the man would hear.
 

The door opened and I fell to my face on the floor, Reno’s weight throwing me to the ground. I struggled and felt someone pull him off of me.
 

“Easy there, miss, easy,” the gruff voiced man urged, sitting me up and patting my back. I twisted my wrists against the duct tape bonds. “Hang on now, hang on,” he continued, taking a knife from his pocket and cutting away the duct tape. “Are you all right, miss?”
 

I pulled the duct tape away from my mouth and nodded. “Y-yes, I’m fine.” I got to my feet and went over to Rufus. There was already a dark bruise forming on his pale cheekbone, where Reno had hit him. I winced and gently touched it.
 

Rufus flinched and opened his eyes. “R-Rosalind…” he stammered.
 

“Are you all right?” I asked, helping him sit up.
 

“I’m fine, yes…just a little dizzy,” Rufus answered, touching a hand to his forehead. He stared around the room at the team of heavily armed Special Forces. “What happened?”
 

I shrugged. “The terrorists taped us up and stuck us in the closet. Then these men came to save us,” I explained innocently.
 

“O-oh…right.” Rufus stood unsteadily and I immediately put my hand against his chest to help him and he responded with his arm around my shoulders. “What happened to him?” Rufus questioned, gesturing at Reno, still sprawled on the floor.
 

“The terrorists hit him,” I answered clearly, glancing over my shoulder. I sighed. “What an awful evening this has been,” I said, half to myself.
 

“Would you like to go home?” Rufus offered kindly. “I’m sure I can get us through these crowds, if you’d like…”
 

I nodded fervently. “Oh, I would like that.”
 

“Then let’s go.” Rufus spoke briefly to one of the Special Forces operatives and within minutes we were whisked down to the lobby and into his private car. We drove all the way back to the Shinra building, and then he escorted me up to my apartment. The whole floor was quiet and dark. No one else was back yet, nor would they be back for a while.
 

“Thank you,” I said softly, as he walked me to the door of my apartment. “I had a really…”
 

“Lousy time tonight,” Rufus finished wryly.
 

I blushed. “Well, parts of it were good,” I offered.
 

Rufus drew close and kissed me again. “Was that part good?” he asked.
 

“Mmm…yes, I enjoyed that part.” I was ecstatic. I was numb all the way down to my fingertips. I shivered delightedly.
 

“Well, I should let you get in to bed. I’d like to make tonight up to you…how about I come by at seven tomorrow and pick you up?” Rufus suggested. “We’ll go for dinner.”
 

I nodded, pleased. “I’d really like that.”
 

Rufus smiled at me. “Great. I’ll see you then. Good night, Rosalind.” He kissed me one more time, then left, disappearing down the dark hallway.
 

I sighed dreamily, and then spent a few minutes trying to figure out why I couldn’t get into my apartment. Then I remembered my card key. Fumbling in my purse for it, I pushed the door of my dark apartment open. I yawned as I put my purse down on the side table by the door. I hadn’t realized how tired I was.
 

Stretching, I wandered across the living room to my bedroom, fumbling with the clasp of my necklace and pulling the earrings from my ears. They’d been clip-ons, because I don’t have pierced ears, but I didn’t think it had really made a difference. I reached back and undid the zipper of my dress, letting it fall to the floor. I stepped out of it and took my shoes off, pulling open a drawer and taking a t-shirt out. I tugged it on over my head and crawled under the blankets of my big soft bed.
 

I sighed heavily as I closed my eyes. The evening would have been absolutely wonderful if Reno hadn’t been such an ass.
 

*
 

I’d never been so comfortable with someone of a higher rank than me. Rufus was sweet and charming and charismatic and every day we were together, he went out of his way to make me feel special. I passed the weeks that followed swept up in a wave of absolute euphoria. I was sure I was in love, or something very close to it. Never before in my life had someone given me this much attention. I had work to do, too, of course, but it was mostly simple patrols. The Fort Condor angle had given us nothing and AVALANCHE hadn’t done anything more drastic than a few raids on some of our military bases.
 

Rufus was always so pleased to see me after my patrol work. It was just little stuff, but he made it out to be a much bigger deal than it was. After one mission, he took me out for dinner to one of the fanciest restaurants in Midgar. It was candlelit and romantic and the food was delicious. We had a private table by a window overlooking the city.
 

“Rosalind, if we didn’t have people like you protecting our cities, I wouldn’t feel safe to sleep at night,” he told me, after he’d finished asking how the patrol had gone. “You’re so wonderful.”
 

“I’m not…really, I’m not. I just do my job,” I insisted shyly. I can’t even take his praise very well. Which is a dreadful shame, because he’s very lavish with it.
 

Rufus reached across the table and took my hands in his. He’s so handsome. “You’re the best Turk I know of,” he told me sincerely. “If all of your comrades were like you, I know we could beat AVALANCHE.”
 

“We’ll beat them,” I asserted confidently. “Shinra is tracking their movements as we speak. If they would make just one more big move we could get them, I’m sure of it!”
 

Rufus laughed. “You’ve got such delightful enthusiasm. But…if only we could catch up to them before that…if we knew where they were, and could strike first…”
 

“Oh…well, there’s always a chance we’ll find them beforehand. I mean…they haven’t exactly given us a clear target, but if we had one…” I trailed off. What would Shinra do when they found the base of the AVALANCHE attacks? These were guerilla terrorists and there were hundreds and hundreds of them, given the magnitude of their attacks.
 

“My father will send his troops to crush them,” Rufus finished for me, picking up his glass of wine and sipping at it thoughtfully. “Rosalind…I’ve been thinking…and I want to ask you…”
 

He was cut off by a squeal from the other side of the restaurant. “Rosalind, darling! What are you doing here?”
 

Samantha swept across the restaurant, Rodney in tow. I suppressed a sigh. I didn’t need this right now. Lately, my dates with Rufus had been getting a lot less private. Reno and I had been avoiding each other like the plague since the party, but I was seeing an awful lot more of my other comrades, often in very inconvenient places. A trip to the opera was wrecked by Rude’s presence (it’s very difficult to be comfortable with Rufus snuggling me, when there’s a hulking bodybuilder sitting only a row away), a walk in the park by Cyr, a trip to the zoo by Tseng and his daughter (she’s so sweet, but I don’t think Rufus particularly cares for children)…it’s not that I don’t like my colleagues, but I wanted a little private time with my boyfriend.
 

“We were actually just finishing dinner,” I muttered, slouching in my seat. Under the table, Rufus rubbed my leg with his shoe sympathetically.
 

“Oh, well then Rod and I will join you for desert!” Samantha pulled up a chair and sat down next to Rufus, smiling at him adoringly. “You’ll have to introduce me, Rosalind. I haven’t formally been introduced to the President’s son.”
 

“You’ve certainly ogled him enough to merit an introduction,” was what I wanted to say, but instead I just introduced her. “Uh…Rufus, this is Samantha Hartigan. She’s a Turk, like me.”
 

“Charmed,” Rufus said politely, shaking Samantha’s hand. “And who is your friend?” he asked, glancing at Rodney.
 

“Who?” Samantha blinked and looked over at Rod. “Oh, him? That’s Rodney.”
 

I rolled my eyes. I did not need Samantha Hartigan trying to steal my boyfriend. She had one of her own, though she really didn’t seem to pay much attention to him. “Well, Rufus and I were just leaving,” I announced, standing up. “It was nice seeing you, Samantha, but we’ve really got to be going.”
 

“Oh, darling, stay for just a little while!” Samantha protested as Rufus got up and offered me his arm. “Had you tried the zabaglione here? It’s simply heavenly…”
 

I swear, she lapses in and out of other languages. “No, I haven’t, but perhaps some other time,” I said firmly. “We’ve got to be going. See you later, Samantha!”
 

“It was nice meeting you!” Rufus called, as I pulled him over to the door and we left. “Do you not like her?” he asked, as the valet pulled his car up to the front door.
 

I sighed and got into the front seat. “It’s not that I don’t like her…well…no, I’m not exactly fond of her, but that’s not the point. I’m getting sick of all these people showing up when we’re trying to have time alone. I know, we haven’t known each other all that long, but I want this to work out…”
 

Rufus nodded, pulling onto the main thoroughfare and driving back toward the Shinra building. “I know what you mean…we have had a series of unfortunate coincidences when it comes to our time together.”
 

“Maybe I should stop telling people my plans,” I mused out loud. “I mean…they’re probably just keeping an eye on me…everyone knows you’re my first boyfriend…so I suppose it would stand to reason that they be worried.”
 

“Hmm. Well…let’s try doing something unexpected,” Rufus suggested, glancing at me. “How would you like to come up to my father’s hunting lodge with me, for the weekend? It’s not like they can follow us there.”
 

I was surprised. “A weekend away…you and I? Already?”
 

Rufus shrugged. “Why not? Unless you’re uncomfortable with it…”
 

“No, no…I’d l-love it. It j-just it seems so fast,” I stammered.
 

“Well, if you don’t want to, that’s fine…”
 

“No! Let’s do it!” I said impulsively. I was sick of being meek about these things. I was sure I could handle a weekend alone with Rufus. After all, I loved him.
 

Rufus smiled at me, reaching over and putting his hand on my knee. “Great. This weekend, then?”
 

I nodded. It was Monday. I could spend the week preparing and make sure Tseng knew I wanted the weekend off…though I had been taking a lot of time off to be with Rufus. I didn’t think anyone minded, though. I’d done more than my fair share of tough assignments. “I’ve never been hunting…I’ve never even used a rifle.”
 

“Well, then let’s go to the shooting range,” Rufus suggested, as we pulled into the Shinra parkade. He parks his car on the floor reserved for executives.
 

“Now?” I asked, glancing down at my clothes. I was wearing a little black cocktail dress he’d bought me. Not something I wanted to be getting gunpowder all over.
 

“Sure. We’re being unpredictable, aren’t we? You could change first, I suppose…but there’s something kind of sexy about you, in a dress, with a gun.”
 

I blushed and got out of the car. He’s so sweet and charming. “I don’t want to ruin the dress,” I explained. “I’ll just go up and get changed…and meet you on the range, all right?”
 

Rufus nodded. “All right. I’ll see you then. Fifty-first floor, right?”
 

“The fifty-first floor,” I agreed, adjusting the strap of my purse over my shoulder and heading for the elevator. I felt giddy. The spontaneity of the whole thing was really going to my head. I hummed to myself, riding up to the forty-eighth floor. The fact that I was humming was another indication of how happy I was. I was practically floating as I stepped off the elevator and headed across the lounge.
 

“Hey, Rosalind!” St. Andrew called, from the couch. He seems to spend a lot of his time there. Reno was sitting in the chair in front of the TV, reading a newspaper. He ignored me and I responded in kind.
 

“Hi, St. Andrew,” I answered politely, mildly irritated at the distraction.
 

“Nice dress,” he commented. “Been out with Rufus?”
 

I nodded. “Yes. I’m kind of in the middle of something…”
 

He held up a hand. “Say no more, say no more. I’ll see you later, right?”
 

“Sure. Nice talking to you.” I walked quickly to my apartment to get changed. I wasn’t exactly sure what to wear…if I was just training, I would’ve taken sweats and a t-shirt, but I was going to be with Rufus. I settled on a tight pair of jeans and a silk shirt, grabbing my sidearm as I headed out the door.
 

“Where’re you going now?” St. Andrew questioned as I crossed the lounge and got back on the elevator.
 

“Just for some target practice,” I told him shortly. “I’ll see you.”
 

“Oh. Right. Yeah, see you, Rosalind.” I thought I heard the rustle of Reno putting away his newspaper as the elevator doors closed, but I didn’t care about that.
 

The fifty-first floor is part of the fully integrated training system that Shinra has set up for us Turks. The fiftieth floor is a massive gym, for regular employees as well as us. We’re all in excellent, shape, naturally, and we all have personal trainers who’ve tailored programs especially for our needs. Since Costa del Sol, I’ve found I enjoy going a few rounds with a punching bag. Nothing too extreme, but it’s good for venting. The fifty-first floor has special interest equipment, a shooting range, obstacle courses, a track, a skating rink, and an Astroturf soccer field, among other things.
 

Rufus was waiting for me by the elevator, with a rifle in hand. Handguns are my strong point, but I can tell a nice firearm when I see one. Rufus’s rifle was a beautiful old Remington, with a wooden stock and gleaming silver barrel.
 

“Ready to go?” he questioned as I stepped off the elevator. “You look nice.”
 

I was pleased he’d noticed. “Thank you. I’m ready, yes. I’d like to shoot a few magazines of my own to get warmed up, though.”
 

“Sure,” he agreed easily, following me down the hallway to the shooting range. It’s a long, empty room, fully equipped with targets and everything. There are about a dozen “booths” set up for practice and all were empty. I took one on the end, and Rufus took one next to me, loading and preparing his rifle.
 

I took a pair of earphones from a hook on the wall of the cubicle, and put them on. I really don’t know why they provide them. No one wears ear protection in the field. I put on a pair of safety glasses, checked to ensure my weapon was loaded, then took my stance and started shooting.
 

It must sound foolish, but I love firing a gun. It’s one of my greatest talents. I’m a brilliant shot and nothing makes me happier than honing my skills. The recoil of the weapon, the brief flash and burst of heat that accompanies each shot, and the ability to shoot patterns in whatever I’m aiming at all combine for a pleasurable experience.
 

I was halfway through my magazine, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I lowered my weapon and turned around, expecting to see Rufus, but only to find myself face to face with St. Andrew.
 

“Figured I’d come join you,” he announced, spinning his pistol around his finger, as I took off my earphones. He glanced over at Rufus. “But it looks like you’ve already got company.”
 

“Uh…well, whatever. We’re just shooting. You can be here if you’d like,” I said, though I was seething inside. Every single time. I was beginning to think this was some kind of conspiracy.
 

St. Andrew grinned at me. “Great. Well, I’ll just be down at the other end, if you need anything.”
 

I nodded and sighed. I had no intention of needing anything from St. Andrew, except to be left alone.
 

“Did you want to stay here?” Rufus asked quietly, coming into my booth. “We could go somewhere else, if you wanted…”
 

“No…we came here to practice and I intend to stay. Who cares if he’s here? Now, teach me about a rifle,” I commanded, determined to get around the obstacle of St. Andrew’s presence.
 

Rufus smiled at me, leaning against the wall of the cubicle. “Rosalind…in the restaurant, I was trying to ask you something, but we got interrupted…”
 

My heart skipped a beat. I’d forgotten about that. “Yes, I remember. What was it?”
 

“Well…it’s about AVALANCHE. I was just thinking…if we knew where they were, we could move to prevent their attacks, right?”
 

This hadn’t been quite what I was expecting, but I nodded anyway. “Yes…we could, I suppose…why?”
 

Rufus paused and took a deep breath. “I think I might know where they are,” he told me dramatically.
 

I arched an eyebrow. I couldn’t help it. I was skeptical. “You…what?”
 

Rufus flushed slightly. “I know what you’re thinking…how could I possibly know? Well…back at the Fort Condor embassy, when we were in the ambassador’s office…I saw something in his filing cabinet that caught my attention.”
 

“What was it?”
 

Pausing, Rufus reached into his jacket and pulled out a glossy, eight by ten, black and white photograph. “This. It’s an image from Fort Condor’s satellite. It’s Cosmo Canyon.”
 

I took the photo in my hands and stared at it. “It…looks like a fortified settlement at Cosmo Canyon.” This was something. Fort Condor beat us in the space race. It’s one of the reasons they’re at odds with Midgar. While Shinra was making massive efforts to be the first company to launch a satellite into space, Fort Condor went around behind everybody’s backs, piggybacking on Shinra’s research, and beat them to it. We’re currently working to have the first manned craft in space, but the fact remains that they gained a corner on the market, and currently maintain all kinds of different satellites -- one of which takes photographs of the world from space. I could only presume that was what I was looking at.
 

Rufus nodded. “Right. I’ve researched it, and it must be the AVALANCHE base. But…I need someone to verify it for me.”
 

“Why can’t you just ask one of the company’s pilots do a fly-over?”
 

“Well…” Rufus trailed off. “If I were to do that, I would have to go through my father and give a legitimate reason. I need to do this on my own, so it’s more impressive when I present it to the hierarchy. If you could go to Cosmo Canyon and investigate…”
 

“Get proof that it’s AVALANCHE, you mean?”
 

“Right. If you could do that…oh, Rosalind, it would mean the world to me. I’d finally be recognized by my father’s executives, and I’d bet anything you’d get a promotion, too.”
 

I hesitated. It would look good on both our records, and I did want to help him out, but going to investigate the AVALANCHE base camp was a pretty big deal. “Well…I don’t know…”
 

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Rufus said quickly. “Later, after our weekend together, maybe you could go.”
 

“Yeah…we’ll have to see,” I agreed. “Now, about teaching me to shoot a rifle…”
 

Rufus smiled and put his arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Thank you, Rosalind. If anyone can do this, it’ll be you.” He gently turned me around and stood behind me, bringing the shotgun up and letting me sight down the barrel. “Now, put your hands on the stock and the barrel, like this…” he guided my hands to their appropriate positions.
 

“Right…and now what?”
 

He helped me line up my first shot, leaning close and nuzzling my neck affectionately. I giggled as he kissed my cheek and throat, his arms sliding around my waist and pulling me close. I had quite forgotten about learning to shoot a rifle by now, letting the gun drop and turning around, putting my arms around his neck and letting him kiss me.
 

“Hey, Rosalind!” Once again, St. Andrew interrupted, poking his head around the corner of the stall. “Oh, I’m sorry…could I interrupt for just a tick?”
 

Reluctantly, I pulled out of Rufus’ arms. “Yes?” I asked, trying not to sound too exasperated.
 

“Could I get a few rounds of ammo from you? I’m fresh out.”
 

I sighed and handed over my weapon. “I don’t have any of your caliber. But here. Use that. Just make sure I get it back.”
 

“Well, thank you, Rosalind! I’ve been eyeing this little piece of yours for a while now,” St. Andrew remarked, taking my handgun and hefting it. “Wow, is this ever light! Small, too. Not a sub-compact, but still. Definitely a lady’s gun. Not bad for a concealed weapon, I should say. Does it come in any other calibers?”
 

Rufus had moved away and the mood had effectively been killed. I sighed. “It’s a GLOCK-26. It might come in other sizes, I don’t know. Talk to the guys in weapons.”
 

“I might just do that,” St. Andrew mused, rubbing his thumb up and down the barrel. “Lord, this thing is tiny. Practically a derringer. It’s not at all like mine.” He reached into his holster and pulled out a simply massive handgun. He held it out to me, beaming, presumably looking for my opinion. “It’s a Desert Eagle. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
 

I took the weapon gingerly, glancing guiltily at Rufus, who had folded his arms across his chest and was looking bored. “It’s…uh…very nice, yes. Fifty caliber ammo, I presume?”
 

St. Andrew nodded. “Of course. I like to leave big holes in things. Now, nine millimeter ammo is all well and good, but if you really want to do some damage, you need some pretty hefty slugs.”
 

“Are you sure you might not be compensating for something?” Again, that was what I wanted to say, but all I actually did was nod. “Uh huh.”
 

“The recoil’s a bitch, though.”
 

“I’d imagine it would be,” I agreed.
 

Rufus yawned, plainly demonstrating his boredom, but St. Andrew prattled on. “It’s a fair tradeoff, though, once you’re used to it. Not so good for firing continuously, though. Your hand gets numb after awhile.”
 

“Yes, I suppose that makes sense…”
 

“I always used to pinch my hand in the slide, when I was first getting used to it. God, that hurts. You ever do that? I still have the scars, wanna see?” St. Andrew displayed his hand and the old silvery-white scars lacing it.
 

“That must’ve hurt…”
 

Rufus glanced at his watch and coughed pointedly, but still, St. Andrew took no notice. “Oh, that’s nothing. Have you ever been hit in the face with a shell casing? Those things are hot! There’s a bit of a scar from a burn I got on my cheek. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if I’d been hit in the eye. I’d probably be blind.”
 

I was getting sick of trying to be polite, but I nodded anyway. “It can’t hurt as much as being shot,” I said, hoping it would end the conversation, but no such luck.
 

“Oh, I know. Have you ever been shot? I’ve been, once. Took a bullet in the shoulder for the Don. I never really imagined myself being a bodyguard. I mean, saving someone else’s life is all well and good, but I’d really sooner stay living myself.”
 

“Well, it’s getting late and I really should be going,” Rufus said finally, evidently out of patience with St. Andrew’s rambling. “Have a good night, Rosalind. Think about what I said.”
 

I nodded, immensely irritated with St. Andrew. “Yes…good night, Rufus. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
 

Rufus shook his head. “No…I have work to do tomorrow. Maybe the next day.”
 

“Oh…all right. See you.” I wanted a goodnight kiss, but Rufus evidently felt it would be too awkward with St. Andrew around, so he left without a further word.
 

“Buh-bye!” St. Andrew called, waving cheerfully. “Anyway, Rosalind, I’ll let you get back to your shooting. I’m out of ammo, so I’m going to head back up. See you around!”
 

He left before I could get a word out. I was furious. I didn’t know whether this was something they’d all contrived as a means of keeping an eye on me, but I did know I was getting damn sick of it. I could take care of myself. Angrily, I emptied the rest of my magazine at a target at the other side of the range. All my shots went wide, except one, which pierced the bright red heart in the center of the human-shaped target. Still seething, I jammed my handgun back in its holster.
 

Stalking out of the shooting range, slamming the door closed behind me, I opted for the stairs down to the forty-eighth floor. I needed to calm down. Maybe a long, hot shower, when I got home, and a movie. I couldn’t let this get under my skin. I had an important decision to make, and I didn’t need something this trivial clouding the issue.
 

Reno and St. Andrew were talking when I came into the lounge. I was going to ignore them both, but I couldn’t help glancing over as I walked over to my apartment. I stopped. This wasn’t right. Money was changing hands. Reno handed St. Andrew maybe fifty gil and St. Andrew nodded briefly.
 

“You’re doing this!” I exclaimed, loudly enough that both of them jumped. And here I’d thought Reno had been leaving me alone.
 

St. Andrew, who I suppose is accustomed to taking money to do other people’s dirty work, recognized that me and Reno (or me, at least) were on the very verge of tearing each other limb from limb, and wisely retreated. “Uh…see ya later, Reno,” he called, vanishing down the hallway to his apartment. “I hope,” I thought I heard him mutter.
 

“It’s been you! You’ve been having people follow me!” I accused.
 

Reno shrugged. “So what if I have been?”
 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded angrily. “You’ve been wrecking everything!”
 

Reno apparently intended to infuriate me by staying absolutely cool throughout the whole thing. “I’m watching your back, rookie,” he explained calmly.
 

I stared at him. “I don’t need you watching my back!” I snapped. “I’m twenty-three years old and I can take care of myself!”
 

“Oh, please,” Reno snorted. “No, you can’t. You’ve never been in a relationship with anyone before, least of all an asshole like Rufus.”
 

“Rufus is my boyfriend,” I hissed angrily.
 

Reno rolled his eyes. “God, you’re naïve. He’s using you, rookie. I dunno what the hell he wants, but it’s not a girlfriend.”
 

“Shut up!” I yelled. He was making me so mad. I hate being treated like a child. “How would you know?”
 

He sighed exasperatedly. “Rufus Shinra doesn’t date novice Turks. He dates lingerie models and strippers, with nothing but sex in mind.”
 

“That’s a lie!” Actually, I didn’t know if it was or not. I just knew it was different with me. “You don’t know Rufus! He’s sweet and charming and intelligent and…and he cares more about me than you ever have!”
 

Reno’s eyes narrowed slightly, but I still hadn’t goaded him into breaking out of his role as the passive aggressor. “If that’s what you think, rookie, then you don’t know Rufus. You think President Shinra is bad? Well, his son is worse, because he comes off as all ‘sweet and charming and intelligent.’ He doesn’t care about you, rookie. You’re just gonna get hurt.”
 

“Who are you trying to be? My father?” I asked bitterly.
 

“You have a father, but he can’t be much of one if he’s just sitting on the sidelines watching while Rufus Shinra tries to screw his daughter over. I don’t know what he wants from you, rookie. But I promise you, it won’t be good.”
 

“Shut up! I don’t have to listen to you!” I shouted. I didn’t like this. His arguments stayed cool and logical, but I was so mad I couldn’t do anything but scream at him. “At least…at least Rufus has half a brain in his head!”
 

I sensed I’d touched a nerve. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Reno demanded.
 

“My father was right about you! The company held you back for a reason! You wouldn’t have gotten that promotion without me!”
 

Even as angry as I was, I felt a twinge of guilt for being as cruel as that. It didn’t last long. “Watch it, rookie,” he said quietly.
 

There was something in his eyes I should’ve recognized as dangerous, but if I did, I chose to ignore it. “Rufus is intelligent and clever and he takes me to operas and concerts and plays!” I continued ruthlessly. “He’s brilliant. We went to an art gallery and talked for hours about the neo-classical period of Antonio Veredetti.” I made that last part up. I think Antonio Veredetti is actually a street racer, from back when I lived under the plate. I don’t know the first thing about art. The point was that I was sure Rufus did and I knew Reno didn’t. ” But I guess you wouldn’t understand something like that, now would you?” I asked scathingly.
 

Reno didn’t answer immediately, but I could tell I’d hurt him. I regretted it, but I wasn’t sorry. “You know what?” he said finally. “I don’t need to take this from you. I don’t care if Rufus plans to rape you and leave you for dead by the side of the road somewhere, because evidently you don’t. Maybe you need someone to really hurt you. I kinda hope he does.”
 

I suddenly didn’t feel like arguing any more. Now he was hurting me. I didn’t like listening to what he was telling me, because I didn’t want to believe it. I felt tears burning in my eyes. “You don’t care about me,” I accused, angrily wiping at my eyes.
 

“Right about now? Not so much,” he answered coolly.
 

“W-well, maybe I don’t care about you either!” I whirled around and ran to my apartment. I’d made up my mind right then and there to go to Cosmo Canyon for Rufus. Just to prove that it was different for us. I’d do anything for him. Reflecting on my decision later, I realized all I’d proven was that I was naïve enough to be willing to go to great lengths for a sleazy, lying scumbag, who I only thought I loved.
 

I cried myself to sleep that night. I know I’m an emotional person, but I hadn’t done that since my first year in reform school, after my mother had died. It had been a very painful time, because I’d lost the only person who really cared about me. Whatever I was crying about now, though, it’s very unpleasant to fall asleep on a wet pillow.

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