Title : Beyond Good and Evil; 30. – Right Now
Authors: aenigmadarai and turkish_delight
Pairing[s]: Reno/Tifa, and some hints of Tseng/Elena. Some one-sided Cloud/Tifa, a dash of blink-and-you'll-miss-it Rosalind/Tseng, and maybe some eventual Yuffie/Cloud if the planets align properly.
Rating: R for some chapters which will contain graphic imagery.
Summary: In which Reno gives Denzel his card and divulges a humorously traumatic past experience.


Reno's Apartment, Edge; 13:03
Saturday, October 16^th, 1999

Reno soundly lost the card game. He had always been bad at cards--Rude, Rafe, and Andrew always beat the crap out of him at poker (because he had no poker face whatsoever), and it was even worse when the gang played strip poker. Elena had decided to keep his jeans as a prize for winning the pot, and he'd had to walk home in his boxers. Needless to say, Tseng had been mortified by the entire thing.

...Come to think of it, Elena still had those jeans...

He frowned at Denzel as the boy shoved the deck of cards back in its box, and he folded his arms over his chest. "Next time, we play dice," he insisted sourly. "You won't be so lucky then. Just you wait. Your time will come."

Chuckling and rising from the floor where they'd been sitting, Tifa began collecting their dishes to take back into the kitchen, leaving a triumphant Denzel cross-legged on the floor, packing his cards away. After teaching that Ratscrew game to the three of them, he'd proceeded to kick their asses at the damn game, and Tifa really didn't want to play it again. "If you want to bust out Yahtzee to play next, you could put your money where your mouth is," she called to Reno from the kitchen, where she was loading the dishwasher.

"Will we be required to hit each other in that game?" Elicia inquired mildly, munching on her cauliflower placidly.

"Nah, it's kinda boring," replied Denzel with a little frown. "Lots of math. Plus I bet if Reno even had the game, he'd have lost all the dice by now."

Reno shook a finger at Denzel. "Don't you sass me, young man," he scolded very seriously. "For your information, I have a whole drawer full of dice, some of which have upwards of twenty sides."

"Great, so you're a nerd," Denzel snarked, rolling his eyes. "Unless we're gonna play tabletop or you want to print us out some big-ass Yahtzee sheets, your twenty siders prolly won't do us much good." His dry sarcasm was completely ruined by his huge grin. "You got Monopoly? That's a fun game."

"Monopoly?" Tifa echoed over the sound of running water as she washed out the skillet. "Great, her dad would just love that."

"Perhaps it is the time to further your education, Elicia," Denzel concluded, holding up a finger.

Reno rolled his eyes. "Oh dear, what will her daddy have to say, though?" he wondered aloud in his best stuffy hoity-toity tone. He rose to his feet and puffed his chest out, frowning fiercely. "I, Reginald James Pennington III...Esquire...of West CanterburyvilleburgMcSqueenixtonshire..."

Trying his best not to crack up as he mimicked Reno in his pantomime, Denzel puffed his chest out and tugged his head back as far as it would go, looking for all the world like an affronted chocobo. "Burr burr burrburrburr," he announced very seriously, a scowl on his face and his voice pitched low and nasally.

"...do hereby not approve of this tomfoolery and insist that you cease and desist this nonsense at once!"

"My daddy does not talk like that," Elicia informed them smoothly, as if they were simply misinformed and not being insulting. The poor thing probably didn't realize the boys were making fun of her father.

Reno guffawed. "Oh you're no fun," he accused with another roll of his eyes. Then he turned to Denzel and cracked up laughing anew. "Very good, my friend, you do an excellent impression of a self-important politician. We should take our show on the road sometime. Here, my card." He flicked his wrist out and offered Denzel a card.

Taking it, Denzel frowned, flipping the card over. "...The seven of diamonds?" Wait--this was his seven of diamonds! How had Reno even gotten it?

The redhead blinked, looked conspiratorially at Elicia a moment, and then returned his gaze to Denzel. "Oh. Sorry about that." He waggled the fingers of his left hand, fisted them, and then extended his index and middle fingers again, another card appearing between them as if by magic. "Here, I meant to give you this one."

While the ace of spades was certainly appreciated, Denzel was much more impressed by the card trick itself than the card produced. "How'd you do that?" he inquired, his mouth slightly rounded in surprise.

Reno smiled a secretive smile and then just shrugged. "Dunno," he said, showing Denzel his very empty hands, "but it looks like you've got...hang on, there's something behind your ear..." And with that, he reached around Denzel's temple and quickly manifested another card between his fingers as he pulled his hand away from the boy's head. "Oh. King of hearts." He chuckled, perhaps more pleased with himself than he should have been. Rude and Rosalind had grown unimpressed with his razor-sharp mastery of sleight of hand by now; it was refreshing to have someone actually be awed by it again.

"How many of my cards do you have?" Denzel inquired, opening up his pack again and beginning to count them.

Reno made a 'hmm'ing sound and then fanned out his left hand, a card caught between each finger and two between the thumb and index. An ace-high royal flush. He winked at Denzel and relinquished the remaining five cards and assured the youth that was all he had...before mysteriously finding a joker in his back pocket and tucking it behind his own ear.

Reno was, by that time, officially the coolest guy ever. He saved Tifa when she got hurt looking for Cloud, he saved Denzel from those stupid bullies, he was a badass Turk and perhaps best of all...Tifa was really happy around him.

It hadn't taken Denzel long to notice. She always brightened when they were talking about Reno, and whenever Reno was in the bar with her, she seemed to go about her work more contentedly than when he was absent. When she talked to Reno on the phone, there was always a smile on her face, and all through lunch and the game of Ratscrew, she'd been laughing lightheartedly in a way Denzel really hadn't seen her doing too much of in all the time he'd known her. Yes, things were better now that Kadaj wasn't trying to destroy the world and Cloud was home more often--Denzel didn't classify that as 'better' but he figured Tifa did--but even accounting for all of that, she seemed extra happy when Reno was around. Even now, over the running water in the kitchen, Denzel could hear her humming to herself--humming!

Denzel didn't know Reno as well as he knew Tifa, but the Turk seemed to get on well with Tifa too. He'd only seen Reno once when Tifa hadn't been there, the time Reno had saved him and taken him out to lunch, and the Turk had been pretty bouncy the entire time...but they had ended up discussing Tifa for the majority of the outing. Their friendship was obvious, and Denzel really liked how much Tifa laughed around the goofy redhead... He actually found himself rather hoping Reno was single so he could try and get them to hook up. "I hope you don't do this with your girlfriend's stuff," he commented casually, alert and ready to gauge the Turk's reaction. "That'd probably piss her off."

There came a sudden loud clatter from the kitchen as Tifa's grip slipped on the skillet, sending it banging against the side of the sink and splattering her with soap suds. "Son of a bitch!" she lamented, grabbing a towel and wiping her shirt off, turning down the water and listening carefully to the conversation going on in the living room.

Reno had been somewhat startled by Denzel's question, but the unexpected clamor from the kitchen sent the Turk darting to investigate before he had time to contemplate the subtler connotations of the boy's inquiry. He stumbled around the corner, an expression of alarm smeared across his face as he assessed the soapy scene in the kitchen. "Babe!? You okay?" he asked, maybe too anxiously. His aqua eyes were wide with apprehension; that skillet was heavy, for one thing, and retained heat abnormally well. He'd burned the shit out of himself several times on the damn thing, and if Tifa's lovely hands had been damaged he would never forgive himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just slipped," she assured him, casting him a nervous smile and inclining her head towards the living room, a questioning look in her eyes. "I, uh...soap, you know. Slippery. Yeah."

"Er...soap. Yes. Of course." Reno's ears had flushed pink again. Dammit...way to be subtle, you moron. "Uh...oops." He cast a guilty glance back over his shoulder.

"...She's not his girlfriend?" Elicia inquired softly, tilting her chin toward the kitchen.

Shaking his head, Denzel brought a finger to his lips to silence her. "No," he admitted softly, offering her a little grin to ease how harsh his shushing had been. "I kinda want her to be though. Don't tell."

"...'Kay," she agreed a little bewilderedly, more excited than she should have been about having a secret with someone her own age. A real friend! Even if the boy was a little loud and crass, she liked him; he was nice and honest and friendly, and he didn't treat her strangely like the kids at school had before her father had pulled her from the public schooling system. She didn't mention what Reno had said about his lioness, though; apparently, the man was in love with this woman and she didn't know it yet. "He likes her," she assured him instead, grinning happily at the opportunity to give him good news. "I found that out before you got here."

"Really?" he whispered back, directing their voices lower and lower as the noise in the kitchen died down. He didn't want to be overheard. "That's great! Thanks!" This was perfect--now if he could just nudge them in the right direction...

Reno didn't bother paying attention to the children's conversation. Ducking into the kitchen to make himself useful, he pulled the skillet out of the bottom of the sink where it had fallen and turned on the faucet. "Sorry," he said softly. "Thought you'd burned yourself..."

"Reno, we turned the stove off like half an hour ago," she countered, and he frowned.

"Still!" he hissed. "My kitchen is dangerous. I cut the bejeezus out of myself a few days ago; you never know when something is gonna get you in here. When Kitchens Attack! tonight at seven..."

Left with nothing to do now that Reno was rinsing of the skillet, Tifa just stood there, an abiding smile on her face. "You know, I cook a lot at home, Reno, and it's not like I've never been cut before. I fought Bahamut with a concussion; you'd think I could handle washing a skillet."

He frowned at her. "I think you're underestimating the sneakiness of my dishware," he warned.

"Hey, if you guys are done playing with the soap suds, I know a girl who needs to get her Monopoly on," Denzel called, winking at Elicia, who unraveled into a fit of giggles.

Reno stiffened, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and frowned at the kids through the little window out of the kitchen and into the living room. "We are not playing," he insisted in the same hoity-toity voice he had impersonated Pennington with, and in a charming display of maturity, flicked soapy water at Denzel. Then he wiped his hands on his thighs and cast Tifa a sidelong glance. "Shall we indulge them in a board game?"

"Sure; we weren't doing anything today anyway. All right, kids, set it up okay? Denzel, you be bank; I did the books last night and I don't want to do any more ledgers for a whole week, you hear me?"

"Sure thing, Tifa! Why don't you set up some ice cream if Reno's got any? Looks like he's got the pot subdued without your help." Grabbing Elicia's wrist, he tugged her toward Reno's game cabinet, which he'd located by accident when he'd been looking for the emergency stash of napkins Reno kept by the TV. "Okay, so everyone starts out with...uhm, actually I can't remember the total, but everyone gets the same amount, and the richest person at the end wins," Denzel began explaining as he dragged the game out and set it up on the floor.

"1500 gil," Reno called over the sound of the faucet as he scrubbed the bottom of the skillet with a wad of what used to be a sponge at some point. Then he proceeded to dictate the number of bills of each denomination as Denzel doled out the paper cash in even amounts to all four sides of the board.

After checking to make sure the kids were otherwise occupied, Tifa took the opportunity to grab a handful of the back of Reno's jeans as she headed for the freezer, opening it up and removing the tub of vanilla he'd tossed in there. He let out a startled yelp and dropped the skillet into the bottom of the sink, and Denzel glanced up in alarm. "Soap!" Reno barked in response. "Slippery!"

Denzel made an odd face, but went back to handing out monies, just shaking his head.

Reno cast a fiendish smile over his shoulder as Tifa smothered a giggle. "Do you mind?" he said quietly with mock indignation. "That is my personal tush."

"Got a scoop for this?" she inquired, holding up the ice cream, the innocent question not matching the devilish grin on her face.

"I could make a joke about a melon baller here," he replied, "but methinks I won't."

She grinned, just shaking her head and beginning to scavenge for it. "And I could make a joke about rummaging through your drawers," she retorted. "But I don't think I will either."

Reno didn't bother to suppress his bout of laughter at that as he spun around her and pulled open a drawer, retrieving an ice cream scoop and brandishing it threateningly at her. "Not in front of the kids," he scolded under his breath, and placed the scoop in her hand before heading to the fridge to look for the chocolate syrup and whipped cream he knew he still had somewhere.

By the time Denzel had finished passing out everyone's money, Reno had put together three towering sundaes while Tifa had sliced up an apple for Elicia. Plunking down cross-legged on the floor in front of the board, Reno gave the currency a once-over before deciding it was satisfactory and calling dibs on the airplane game piece (since there wasn't a helicopter).



The game ended two and a half hours later, with Tifa holding most of the property and Reno bankrupt. Convinced that someone had cheated, Reno proceeded to pull the Gold Saucer card from behind her ear and proclaim that he was effecting a hostile takeover of Wall Market and Costa del Sol. Denzel had insisted that this was against the rules, and Reno had simply seen fit to find the Ajit card up the boy's sleeve.

It had all gone downhill from there.

Elicia had found the game interesting, though she'd had more fun teaming up with Denzel against the adults than actually playing the game itself. The boy was fascinating, proud and charismatic, and Elicia really enjoyed his company. Now that she thought about it, Reno was quite like Denzel, in a funny sort of way--they were both silly and amusingly unafraid to look stupid.

After helping Reno clean up the dessert and the board game, Tifa mentioned that she probably needed to head out, much to everyone's dismay. Denzel wasn't finished hanging out with Reno yet, and Elicia didn't want Denzel to go home, and even Reno didn't really bother concealing his chagrin.

"Oh, come on," he complained. "You guys just got here. You really gonna leave me all alone again?"

She gave him a look. "Reno we got here almost three hours ago."

"You guys just got here," he reiterated. "After walking all the way here it is absolutely unforgivable that you should go home already."

"It's like a ten-minute walk--"

"Unacceptable!" he cried, throwing his hands in the air.

After a bit of wheedling, he convinced Tifa to stay for a movie, and an enthusiastic Denzel artfully tossed some popcorn in the microwave to seal the deal. Tifa couldn't change her mind and leave if they'd already made popcorn, right?

Hearing the microwave start up, Tifa heaved a sigh, gesturing helplessly at Reno's collection. "Well, if you've got anything family-friendly," she commented, somewhat regretting her choice of words as she watched Reno's face twitch in something like horror, "then I guess we can stay."

Rubbing his chin, Reno ambled over to the television and crouched in front of his collection of movies looking thoughtful. "Family friendly, eh?" he asked, and furrowed his brow. Most of the Bond flicks he had were probably out of the question; there were at least two sex scenes in each of them... He had three old Sherlock Holmes movies, but those would likely go right over Elicia's head... Then he smiled. "What are your thoughts on Dick Tracy?" he inquired with a glance over his shoulder. "It's a real classic."

"That sounds great!" Denzel insisted, grinning at Elicia, who nodded in agreement. So they settled onto the couch, Denzel and Elicia surreptitiously clumping together at one end of the sofa in accordance with their unspoken pact to make Tifa realize how much she liked Reno, leaving Tifa to choose between the uncomfortable crack in between the cushions...or squeezing in with Reno.

Denzel was delighted when she sat down beside the Turk with a shy little apologetic smile. "Cramping your style--hope you don't mind," she laughed.

He shook his head and smiled. "Not at all," he replied with a sly smile. "If my style must be cramped, best it be cramped by a pretty girl, eh?"

Watching very casually, Denzel noticed with disappointment that Tifa lifted her eyebrow in tolerant skepticism, but Elicia was too busy giggling at Reno's remark to be disheartened. "Well, let me know if you get too cramped," she insisted with a little smirk. "I'll go smoosh Denzel instead."

"You most certainly will not!" Denzel countered. "That would smoosh Elicia, and she'd snap like a twig. You don't want to be responsible for child snappage, do you?"

"Well, no--"

"Good! Because that," he stated definitively, "would be horrible. You just stay on your side of the couch and smoosh Reno. You couldn't hurt him with a sledgehammer."

Tifa blinked. "Actually, I'm pretty sure he--"

"Hay!" Reno interrupted, and gave Denzel a sour look. "Well gosh, kid, thanks for the extension of compassion," he groused. "For your information, I've been hit with a sledgehammer, and it bloody well hurt--"

"Shh! The movie's starting!" announced Denzel grandly, and that, as they say, was that.

As it turned out, Tifa was the most uncomfortable one during the movie, since she was straining not to actually lean on Reno while simultaneously trying not to sit on the seam of the cushion. She ended up a little lopsided, her shoulders burning, and she squirmed, sitting on one foot, then the other, crossing her legs and then putting her feet on the floor and slouching.

"Tifa, hold still. I can hardly hear the dialogue--Elicia and I are missing important plot points," Denzel griped, and Tifa scowled.

"Well I'm sorry, but I've been banished to the middle of the couch and it's not exactly ComfortLand™ over here."

Reno was instantly torn in twain. Oh, what a dilemma! Here was such an excellent opportunity to snuggle, and he had to be on G-rated behavior because there were kids afoot. Kids who weren't supposed to know there was dating afoot. Double whammy. Dammit! Reno had a sneaking suspicion someone was having a grand laugh at his expense at the moment. He fidgeted, then decided that there was officially no harm in offering Tifa a shoulder; friends were allowed to touch while sitting beside one another on the sofa watching a completely not romantic or mushy movie whatsoever.

"You can lean on me if you want," he offered as casually as possible. "It's not like I've got cooties." He grinned a lopsided grin and showed her an ancient pock-scar on the underside of his arm. "See? I've had my shots."

It was actually an old healed cigarette burn...but nobody else needed to know that.

She chuckled. "Since when do people get shots on the inside of their arms?" she inquired teasingly, though she took the offer and swiveled slightly, leaning back on Reno with an exaggeratedly relaxed ahh sound before resuming watching the movie again.

He grinned a shit-eating grin and nonchalantly draped his arm around Tifa's shoulders. Well, his arm would fall asleep if he just left it pinned behind her, right?

Delighted at this turn of events, Denzel nudged Elicia and grinned, the girl giggling again. "Hey, you two behave," Tifa chided, lifting a mild eyebrow. "No making out over there."

"Hey, the same goes for you," retorted Denzel, chuckling a little at the bewildered Elicia, who didn't seem to be familiar with the term at all.

Reno choked back a splutter, and then shushed everyone with an exaggerated finger to his lips. "You're missing important plot points!" he growled, and gave Denzel a look that questioned as to what precisely the boy was playing at.

Denzel didn't care to explain, and watched the rest of the movie in relative silence, though occasionally he and Elicia would laugh a little amongst themselves. Finally, the movie concluded and Tifa sat up, stretching a little. "Well, that was pretty cool. Perhaps if you boys remain on your best behavior, we could do a movie night every so often," she said, though her tone suggested she was just joking. "We really should get going, though. I've got to open the bar soon, and I need to get dinner cooked before that--"

"I could make dinner. It'd just be sandwiches," Denzel pointed out, folding his arms and attempting to buy another half hour at Reno's house.

"Oh, shut it, squirt. I can't afford all the lunchmeat you bulldoze through when you make sandwiches." The boy looked immediately contrite, as if that hadn't even occurred to him, but by the time he'd recovered enough to apologize, Tifa had turned to smile at Reno. "...Thank you. This was...fun."

He gave a very genuine smile and shook his head. "Hey, don't mention it, Babe," he replied, casting a glance Elicia's way. "Thanks for stopping by; wouldn't have wanted the little princess there to starve. Wish you guys could stay longer...I don't usually get to have company." He gave a nervous laugh and then turned toward Denzel and crouched down in front of him, holding up one hand for a high-five. "Good to see you again, tiger," he said. "You stay out of trouble, yah?"

"Heh, I can try. It seems to follow me around, though," he lamented, returning the high-five and then sighing in Tifa's direction.

"Yeah yeah," laughed Tifa, grabbing Denzel's jacket from where he'd thrown it over the back of the couch and smiling once again at Reno. "Anyway, I'll see you later tonight, maybe," she concluded before putting an arm around Denzel's shoulders and pulling him toward the door.

He nodded. "Definitely," he promised with a wink. "I haven't had any rum since last night."

"Bye, Elicia!" he called, waving to the girl, who smiled a little and waved back at him. As they headed down the hallway toward the elevator, Denzel found himself disproportionally disappointed that they didn't kiss goodbye.


After the door closed, Elicia turned her eye to Reno, though she didn't seem nearly as spooky anymore. In all fairness, Reno wasn't nearly as nervous anymore, so her creepiness may have merely been a proportional byproduct of how spookable he'd been at the time. "So," she summated with a smile, digging her coloring book out from underneath the couch and rummaging through the box of crayons, "that's your lioness." Selecting a delightful lime green, she proceeded to render the next hapless drawing an alien as she commented, "I really like her. She's very nice, and prettier than I thought she'd be."

Reno's ears flushed ever so slightly pink as she called him on multiple points, and he twisted the lock on the door and made his way back over to the sofa to peer oddly at her coloring efforts. "Y...yeah, that's...that's her," he said haltingly. "Look, uh...do me a favor, okay, kid?" She looked obligingly at him. "Don't tell Rude she came over today, all right?"

"All right," she promised quite quickly, not quite sure why Reno was being so secretive but definitely not wanting to cause any problems that might dash Denzel's hopes of their growing relationship. "Have you asked her out to dinner yet?" The question was innocent enough--it was obvious Reno liked Tifa, even if he hadn't practically told her about it beforehand, and since Denzel said they weren't dating, either Tifa had already rejected him, which didn't seem too likely with how she'd been acting around him all day, or the Turk had yet to make a move. Elicia was simply curious as to which of the two it actually was.

He gave a start. "Dinner?" he echoed, and then scratched his head. "It's kind of...not really an option," he informed her. "I can't really be seen with her in public--it's complicated," he added before she could get the wrong idea. Then he shook his head. "She's a real good friend," he assured her, "but even that has to be handled with care. Turks can't just...be friends with whoever they like." His tone dove into fierce disappointment and something that bordered on bitter as he concluded that sentence.

"But you would date her if given the chance," Elicia pointed out quietly, even looking up from her coloring to smile a little at him. "Have you asked her yet? If it wasn't so complicated, would she date you?" She paused and then confided, "Denzel said you two weren't dating. I thought you were, but...I mean, the only reason you're not is because it's complicated, right?"

Suddenly flustered that this eight-year-old had apparently seen through every wall he had tried to put up to keep his feelings for Tifa under wraps, Reno blustered and then waved his hands at the girl. "Don't be so nosy," he scolded a bit snappishly. "If things were different, maybe things would be different...but they're not, so they're not, and that's that." He frowned darkly and got up to turn the TV on again, moving to resume his game of Tessellate. "Just...color your space men and stop being a busybody."

"Don't worry; I won't tell anyone," she consoled him with a little smile. "I hope things work out for you." Cheerily, she colored her space men, humming a tuneless melody to herself before setting down her crayon. "...Mr. Reno?"

He arched one eyebrow. "Don't call me mister," he requested, making a face. "Makes me feel old."

"...Reno." She looked a little sheepish and then inquired, "Would you like to play Snap?"


By the time Rude showed up to retrieve the little girl, she had soundly beaten Reno at Snap fourteen times. He was just glad there had been no wagering going on--bad enough he owed Rude 200 gil; the last thing he needed was to owe an eight-year-old money as well. He never would have lived that down. Glancing at his watch when there was a knock at the door, Reno blinked.

"Wow...19:30 already," he mused, getting to his feet to answer the door. Pulling it open, he was met with a rather satisfied grin from his partner.

"See?" Rude asked. "I told you she wouldn't set the place on fire."

Reno scowled. "You never pass up the opportunity to give me an I-told-you-so, do you?" he asked, and Rude capped his shades.

"You'd think I'd be bored of it by now," he quipped, and brushed past Reno as the redhead squawked indignantly at that remark. Giving Elicia a once-over to make certain she was still all in one piece, Rude regarded her casually. "You don't look too traumatized," he said. "I take it the day went all right?"

"It was fun!" she announced. "I colored and we talked about lions and lionesses, and wolves and manatees and..."

"And horses," Reno reminded her with a little grin.

Elicia nodded definitively. "Yeah, and horses and ponies. And then we had lunch and played Ratscrew and Monopoly and then we watched a movie about dicks!" she told Rude excitedly.

Reno squawked again as Rude gave him a questioning look.

"I think I missed some important plot points, though," added Elicia, looking a bit sad.

"Reno, what is wrong with you?" Rude asked with remarkable restraint. "Please tell me you didn't show this girl your...collection."

"Dick Tracy!" Reno howled, dropping to his knees beside Elicia and flailing his hands about her like frantic birds as he apparently fought the urge to cover her mouth to keep her from saying anything else that could be construed incorrectly. "Dick Tracy, Dick Tracy!! You know! The detective!?" He planted a hand on top of Elicia's head. "Elicia~~~ dear, please don't with the making uncle Reno look like an asshole..." he hissed through his teeth.

"And then we played Snap and...yeah, I think that's it," she concluded somewhat lamely, wishing she had something more exciting to report. Well, something more exciting that she was allowed to report, anyway.

Rude stared his partner down for a moment, and Reno nodded hopefully with a big sappy grin on his face. The taller man sighed and shook his head, beckoning at the child with one hand. "Well, come on, then," he urged. "Elena insists that I have to get you to her house before nine so she can braid your hair and paint your toenails." He exchanged a baffled look with Reno, and then asked him, "Did you feed her?"

Reno nodded proudly. "Mmhm," he said. "We made fish."

"We?"

"Giku--ah...she...helped," he fudged quickly, and then he shot his partner a frown. "You coulda told me she had a buncha weird allergies and glue would kill her."

"Gluten," he corrected in tandem with Elicia.

"I had salmon and cauliflower and broccoli and carrots and then apples for dessert!" announced Elicia proudly, packing up her crayons and coloring books, along with the deck of cards Denzel had left at Reno's apartment.

Capping his sunglasses again, Rude inquired incredulously, "You...had cauliflower."

"I...er..."

Fortunately, Elicia just smiled sweetly up at Rude and mentioned, "Daddy always has our groceries delivered. Don't worry, Mister Rude--Reno didn't take me to the store."

Reno breathed a silent sigh of relief, and glanced quickly at Elicia, offering her a small smile. Then he made a face. Son of a bitch, the kid was a better liar than he was! He cleared his throat. "Yes, anyway," he piped up then, "I suppose I stand duly corrected." He folded his arms and rolled his eyes. "You were right; once I stopped expecting her to set me on fire and just acted normal--"

"--instead of like a neurotic headcase," Rude offered, and Reno flicked him off.

"Yes, after that things went fine," he concluded. Well, at least he hadn't bet Rude anything this time.

Packing up the playing cards, Elicia asked, "Do you think it'd be okay if I took these?" She didn't want to steal Denzel's cards, but if Reno thought her taking them was all right, she wanted to keep them.

He blinked. Ah...Denzel had left his cards? Well, playing cards weren't hard to find. He supposed that poor Elicia would probably do well with something other than political magazines and textbooks to play with when she went home to dear old dad Pennington. "Uh...sure," he replied. "I can just buy another deck. No worries; call it a present." He offered half a tired smile. "You can take the toy horse and crayons and all, too," he said.

"You won't miss the horse?" Rude asked cheekily, and Reno punched him in the shin.

"Thank you, Reno!" exulted the little girl, stacking everything very neatly with a large grin on her face. "I hope Miss Elena likes to play Snap..." With that, she grabbed her teddy bear and set it atop her small stack, gathering it all up into her arms and beaming up at Rude. "I'm ready to go now," she informed him helpfully, nodding to him once and taking a few steps to the door before freezing in her tracks. "Oh!" Elicia exclaimed, turning around and darting back to the coffee table, setting her things down and then scuttling over to Reno, throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you for having me over today, Reno," she intoned, delivering a strangely enthusiastic hug for her polite expression of gratitude. "I had a very good time."

"Uh..." Reno found his ears had gone pink again. What the--? Hadn't she been scared of him this morning? Hadn't she hated him a few days ago? He awkwardly patted her shoulder; what was the SOP for hugging little kids, anyway? ...Had Reno ever done that before?? "You're...welcome, kid," he replied stiffly.

With that, she pulled back and grabbed her things again, nodding at Rude very seriously to indicate that now she was, in fact, truly ready to go. "Bye!" she called over her shoulder as they left, and suddenly Reno found himself all alone in his apartment once again.

"...B...bye." He waved at the closed door, still kneeling on the floor, and slowly lowered his hand.

Oh gods, what had happened to him? Reno had always been somewhat distantly fond of children--in as much as he wouldn't stand to see a kid mistreated or endangered. But when had he gotten to the point where there was this strange protective sensation that went along with it all? Had Tifa and Denzel really affected him so much?

Getting to his feet, Reno rubbed the back of his neck and decided it was about time to go to 7^th Heaven and get plastered. He wasn't sure he could handle this sudden insurgence of paternal tendencies without a significant accompaniment of alcohol.


2:47

How like a woman to conveniently leave her son's cell phone at his apartment, Reno mused as he pushed open his door and flicked the light on, flipping open his phone and dialing Denzel's number as Tifa dictated it to him. Easing the door shut, she threw the deadbolt and listened intently, wandering over to the softly ringing couch and plunging a hand in between the cushions, pulling out Denzel's cell phone and flipping it open.

"Hello?" she greeted, grinning at him.

"Mr. Hammond," Reno said very seriously, "the phones are working."

Laughing, Tifa managed to choke out, "I noticed." Then she flipped the phone closed and carefully set it on the coffee table, in plain sight so she didn't forget it again. Denzel had been very insistent that he get his phone back before Sunday morning, though Tifa wasn't quite sure why--the boy was never so adamant about anything when he knew it might be inconvenient for her. Still, she'd sort of been...planning on tagging along home with Reno that night, and so she'd assured the boy that she didn't mind the short walk to retrieve his phone.

She was just glad he was asleep and wouldn't realize the short walk had taken several hours. Well, if Reno was willing to let it take several hours.

Reno slinked up behind her where she stood near the coffee table and threaded his long arms around her middle, resting his chin on her shoulder and purring softly in her ear, "I can't thank you enough for coming to my rescue today." He squeezed her gently and smiled. "I seriously don't know what I would have done..." A laugh then, and he kissed her neck. "Rude would have killed me if I'd let the poor girl go hungry."

"My pleasure," she murmured, tilting her head to the side with her eyes half-closed. "It was fun; Denzel had a good time, and I actually got to spend some time with you. We successfully watched an entire movie together--even if it was about dicks," she teased then--he'd mentioned that particular misunderstanding to her at the bar earlier that night.

He bristled. "Dick. Tracy." His eyes were narrow. "Yeesh. You're as bad as Rude." He released her and sank back onto the sofa, catching her by the wrist to tug her into his lap as he did so. "Although if you're interested in actually watching a movie abou--giku I mean..." Shit. He hadn't meant to bring up the subject of porn again. He'd barely scraped by earlier with her catching him shoving things under the mattress; the last thing he'd intended to do was remind her now, at the end of a fun, non argumentative day.

"Hn," she chuckled, curling up complacently in his lap, an arm slinking around his neck. "Well, what've you got?" she inquired with a dangerous grin and an arch of a fine eyebrow. "I actually haven't watched much myself."

He went rigid and clenched his jaw fiercely. "Actually, I...haven't...got all that much, you see 'cuz...I...erm..." He swallowed a sour lump in the back of his throat and licked his lips. "Well, that is I only...uh... There's just the...magazine...and..." He rubbed his crown with one hand and sucked on his lower lip. "Is this a trap?" he asked then, in far too serious a voice to be cracking some manner of joke.

Tifa just blinked at him for a moment--gods, hadn't he endured enough of that today?--and then slowly shook her head, looking bewildered. "N...o? Did you want it to be?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"No!" she exclaimed, a little too confused to be injured at his apparent lack of trust in her. "It's not--what the hell's gotten into you? You're never ashamed about shit like this." Carefully sitting upright so her tailbone didn't dig into his thigh, she put both her arms around his neck, staring at him firmly but not accusingly. "I've been delightedly fucking you for over a year now, Reno," she reminded him, smiling a bit at her own crass wording of the situation, "and now you're suddenly going shy on me?"

"No~!" he growled, suddenly indignant. 'Shy' and 'Reno' were two words that never belonged in the same sentence; there was arguably not a more exhibitionistic man alive. The redhead had no qualms about removing most articles of clothing in public or discussing his knowledge of exactly how far a person might be capable of bending with complete strangers. Hell, after a few drinks, Reno had been known to do both at the same time, occasionally with demonstrations. He pouted at Tifa. "That's not it," he assured her, averting his eyes. "I just... You really--?" He gave her a hopeful glance. "You honestly aren't pissed that I have... Uh..." His eyes flicked across the room like someone might be listening and disapprove. "I mean you're not mad that I..."

He couldn't bring himself to complete the sentence. You're not mad that I have a collection of porn that rivals the reference section in the Rocket Town central library?

She laughed a little, ruffling his hair a little. "Mad? Hell no. I'm kinda...interested--I mean, what exactly is it that has you so enthralled?--but I'm not mad, not at all." Plunking her forehead down onto his, she looked at him cross-eyed and grinned. "Mostly I'm wondering what kinds of stuff you're into behind closed doors, the shit you won't tell me about. And..." she added with a devilish grin, "...I'm wondering if I can do it. But no, mad never even crossed my mind."

Pausing, she suddenly inquired, "...Why? What in hell made you think I'd be mad?"

Reno seemed to deflate beneath her, and for a moment she was alarmed by this until he lifted his hands and threaded his fingers into her hair with a sigh of relief. "You...promise you aren't mad?" he asked, and she just gave him a look. "Hey, this is a warranted concern, I promise. I...dated this girl once," he confessed, "who...was a major control freak..."

North Corel, 19:12
Friday, June 10^th 1988

The final track meet of the school year had gone well; he had brought them victory again. No one had expected anything less, of course--the team had been unstoppable since he'd been named captain at the beginning of the season. To think! A freshman hadn't been made captain of any of the school teams for eight years! If anyone had told him a year ago he'd be one of the most sought-after boys at his high school, the redhead would likely have laughed; all those years of being the scrawny geeky kid, however, had paid off. Having spent most of his childhood fleeing bullies on the playground and leaping fences to get to safety had put him in a position to outrun the fastest upperclassmen at the school, and outjump the tallest hurdlers on the track and field team. He had single-handedly broken every record the team held, and all within his first two months at the school. And now that it was nearly the end of the school year, he had not only secured his position as captain of the team again next year, but he had also snagged himself the captain of the JV cheerleading squad and the title of second-most popular guy at school (second only after Trey, the captain of the soccer team, who was two inches taller and much broader in the chest. He was also covered in hair, which was kind of creepy, but whatever...). That in itself was a record of sorts--he'd never expected to rocket to the top of the popularity charts...he'd spent most of his life trying to stay below radar. After all, he was the skinny gangly boy with the weird red hair and spooky pale eyes and the dorky freckles all over his body...that certainly wasn't fame-worthy. Somewhere en route, his gangliness had given way to supple tone, and his scrawny nerdy physique had suddenly turned on its side and transformed him into a lean, mean, track-record-breaking machine.

And those mean boys on the middle-school playground had dared to laugh at him? Who had the last laugh now? None of them were banging the Homecoming Queen.

At the moment, however, there were other more important records to break than how many schoolyard stereotypes one could hurl out the window in a nine-month period...like his current high score in Tessellate. Twisting a little where he sat on the foot of his bed, he mashed the buttons on the old Toutari controller and was really only half-listening as his girlfriend proceeded to berate him--again--for not paying what she felt was a sufficient amount of attention to her.

Miranda D'Elamare put her hands on her slender hips and tossed her mane of wavy honey-blonde hair. "Why is it that every time I come over to your house you spend more time playing with your stupid television than with me?" she whined.

"Hang on," he replied, and she huffed impatiently.

Adurr? She was the captain of the cheerleading squad, and Homecoming Queen; surely she deserved a little more attention from her boyfriend than this... Moving to stand in front of the TV screen, she scowled fiercely at the redhead seated on the end of the bed and leaned forward, supplying a rather dastardly view of her ample cleavage. His eyes flicked briefly to the low neckline of her sleeveless shirt, and then back to the blocky movement on the television screen.

"Come on, peach, get out of the way," he pleaded, leaning to one side to crane his neck and peer around her. "I'm trying to beat my high score." Why didn't girls know anything about video games? All they wanted to do was snuggle...and while snuggling was all well and good, nobody found it too impressive if you beat your high snuggling score.

She folded her arms and huffed again, and then decided it was a futile effort. He wasn't going to pay attention to her 'til he was done, and that could take a while. He was really lucky he was so damn attractive and popular...and good in bed...otherwise she wasn't sure she'd bother with him at all. Rolling her steel-grey eyes, Miranda shook her head and moved away from the TV, stomping over to the bed and flopping down behind him. Still scowling, she wriggled a bit, nestling back amongst the pillows at the head of the bed (the boy had more pillows than any boy she'd ever dated before; she couldn't decide if it was adorable or weird) and fluffing her hair.

"I don't understand why you're toying with that when there's a hot girl on your bed," she complained, and he scoffed.

"Uh...Level 42?" he ventured, and she made another irritated sound of disgust, pointedly kicking the heels of her stocking feet into the mattress to make the whole thing shake. Maybe she could throw off his game and he'd pay attention to her.

Unfortunately for her, his hands were steady as rocks despite her best efforts, and his gaze didn't falter as he continued lining up pieces and clearing lines of pixels. Turning her attention from boring holes into the back of his head, she noticed a glossy page corner poking out from beneath one of the pillows under her head and reached for it.

A cry of dismay tore from her throat. "I thought I told you to get rid of these!" she yowled, and he spared her half a peripheral glance as she snatched a magazine out from under the pillow and slapped the cover with the back of her hand.

"Mm?"

She leapt to her feet and shook the magazine at him. There was an incriminating image of a busty woman with strawberry-blonde hair on the cover, dressed in frayed denim short-shorts with her long, slim arms crossed over her obviously naked chest. Miranda hurled the magazine at her boyfriend's head. "I told you to get rid of that crap!" she snarled, and he ducked to avoid the projectile, pausing the game to give her an incredulous look.

"Wha--you were serious?" he replied, and she looked at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted another pair of ears. Well, it was true that she had asked him once to get rid of his collection of dirty magazines...but she'd said it in such a way that he'd supposed she was just kidding. She had been serious? "Peach, don't give me that look," he said darkly as she stuck her lower lip out and popped one hip, her arms folded. "You can't honestly expect me to--"

"I should be the only pretty face you need!" she countered, extending a hand to trail her manicured fingernails tantalizingly down the side of his neck. "Why should I have to compete with these two-dimensional copycats?"

"Dude, you're not," he assured her, making a face. "I'm not screwing any of them."

"Then why do you need them?" she asked, stooping to sit on one of his knees, and he furrowed his brow. "If I was really the most important one, you would get rid of these others..."

He gave her a bug-eyed look. "Miranda. I am not throwing away all my magazines just 'cuz you're jealous of good photography."

"It's sleazy!" she growled, her pretty face contorting with aggravation as she pouted at him. "How am I supposed to feel comfortable as your girlfriend if you can't even be trusted to be faithful!?"

"What?" he laughed. "Peach, you're kidding, right? Unfaithful? They're pictures!"

She raked her hands down his sides, making him gasp suddenly. "Then why do you need them?" she demanded, arching her back a little to present her cleavage at him a little better.

He was too busy being baffled by his girlfriend's sudden unexpected descent into insanity to fully appreciate her breasts, however, and shook his head. "I don't need them," he replied tersely. "I like them--"

"But you like me more, right?" she purred, arching her back further and drawing her face up close to his, their chins nearly touching as she breathed softly across his lower lip.

He swallowed hard and made a monosyllabic sound of ambiguity. "Muh...Mi...randa? Could...we talk about this later?" he finally managed to articulate. "I...have a..."

One of her eyebrows arched fiercely as her right hand traced delicately across the ridge of his hipbone. "You have a...?" she prompted fiendishly, and he frowned.

"...Game..." he said definitively, and her coquettish expression quickly crashed into angered disappointment as she leapt up from his lap and planted her palms firmly on her hips.

"Oh fuck your stupid game!" she howled, and he swatted a hand at her.

"Hey, watch your language!" he snarled. "My kid sister's room is right--"

"You care about everything but my happiness!" she shouted at him, and he jumped to his feet, swiping one hand through the air.

"You're crazy!" he replied severely. "I spend more time with you than I do doing homework or even practicing for meets! All I ever do is hang out with you! I go shoe shopping with you, for crying out loud! Do you have any idea how much I hate shoe shopping?"

"You have to make a choice!" she cried then, gesturing at the bed. "Your magazines, or me!?"

"What??"

"If I can't trust you to only look at me, how can I trust you at all?"

His pale eyes flashed angrily. "Are you mental?" he demanded. "They're magazines! Pictures! They're not real, Miranda!"

"They're real to me!" she howled, tears glittering in her eyes now.

He palmed his face. Awww, dammit. Now she was gonna cry? He never knew what to do when she cried... "Miranda...peach...kitten...you're being unreasonable..."

"I don't see how asking my boyfriend to only have eyes for me is unreasonable," she countered, and he made a face.

"I do!" he gasped, and then wondered what he was talking about. Yeesh...she was pretty to look at, and a pretty damn good lay, that was for sure...but she certainly wasn't long-term material. He'd go bonkers right quick if he had to start picking out curtains or anything with this girl. She was clingy, possessive, jealous, and downright nutters a lot of the time. Something in him felt bad for keeping her around for her bedside manner, as it were...but hey, it was fully symbiotic on that front. No harm, no foul, right?

"Then get rid of them!" she reiterated. "If you really loved me, you'd get rid of them."

He found himself swallowing an incredulous laugh. Love? Love? He was sixteen. Who the hell had ever said anything about love? She was nice to wear on his arm, and damn good in bed, but that was about as far as her good qualities went, so far as he could tell. Besides, this was no time for love and fairy-tale romance and roses and rainbows and all that other idealistic bullshit. He had tests to study for and meets to train for and frankly, he didn't have the patience for her visions of quixotic grandeur.

"Miranda, I think you misunderstood somethi--"

"You do love me, don't you?" she demanded, and he balked.

"...Miranda--"

"Don't you??" Why wouldn't he answer her?

"Can't I just finish my game before we get into--?" he began, but never had the chance to finish his question. With a growl of rage, Miranda stalked over to the surge protector and yanked the game system plug from its socket, sending the television screen black.

He froze. No... She hadn't. She couldn't have--she wouldn't dare--

"You...did not just unplug my game," he said in a dangerously low tone.

"Forget about your stupid game!" she cried, her voice high and shrill now. "This is about us!"

"You did not just unplug my game!" he shouted, his lips twisted into an angry grimace. "I was at Level 42, Miranda!"

"And where are we??" she shouted back. "Do you care about your game more than where our relationship is going?"

"Currently? Yes!" he howled in response. "I'd been playing for three hours to get that far!"

"I know!" she shrieked. "I've been here the whole time!"

"Well then you clearly missed how important it was!" he accused, slicing his arm through the air and fisting one hand.

"I'm not the only one who has been ignoring what's important, in that case!" she retaliated, tears now streaming down her face. "Why can't you understand that I feel neglected and hurt when you don't pay attention to me?"

"Because I do pay attention to you!" he bellowed, sure his mother and sister were wondering just what on earth had set them screaming at one another this time. "I pay more attention to you than to my own goddamn family! You're driving me insane, Miranda! I want some space once in a while!"

She gasped, hiccupped almost pitifully, and her eyes went wide. "Are...are you...breaking up with me?"

He palmed his face a second time. Oh, for fuck's sake not this again. He had actually tried to break up with her numerous times. Homecoming Queen or not, she was a few too many layers of crazy for his taste. But each time he tried to break it off, she would get meek and apologetic and they would end up working something out. But the peace never lasted more than a few days.

"Maybe that would be for the best," he said stiffly. "Maybe we should just be friends."

She looked caught somewhere between horror and fury. "You...you can't," she whispered. "You can't! You can't just break up with me! I'm the fucking Homecoming Queen!"

"And I'm captain of the fucking track team!" he yelled. "Big. fucking. deal! I'm the fastest goddamn kid at school, and yet I can't manage to outrun how fucking insane my goddamn girlfriend is! How sad is that? You demand to come over to my house and spend time with me when we've been spending the entire damn day together anyway--you know I cut history class to go to your stupid pep rally practice today, right? Grow up, Miranda! I am not getting rid of my magazines because you're too insecure to deal with the idea that I look at pornography!"

Miranda had gone silent through his tirade, her eyes growing wider and wider as his voice rose decibel by decibel, until she was verily gaping at him, her lips parted ever so slightly and her breathing suddenly shallow and forced. He swallowed, attempted to regain his composure (he honestly hated yelling at her...but sometimes it seemed the only way to get through to her), and then asked levelly, "What's wrong now?"

She bit her lower lip. "Gods you're sexy when you're mad," she growled, and before he had a chance to be completely baffled by this sudden change of heart, she had launched herself at him and sent him tumbling backward onto his bed with a yelp of alarm. Straddling his hips, the hem of her cheerleading skirt riding dangerously high where she perched over him, she pinned his shoulders to the bed and squeezed her thighs around him. His eyes widened ever so slightly and he squirmed a bit as the weight of her body against his groin grew suddenly...constricting. "Make love to me," she crooned, peering at him with lidded eyes as her tousled golden hair tumbled down over her shoulders and tickled his face.

"Uhm..."

...Well, maybe she was nutters...but he was pretty sure that he was never going to find another girl who managed to get him off the way she did. If fighting turned her on, then maybe this wasn't such a bad union after all. He sure managed to do just the right things to piss her off, which pissed him off, which led to a screaming match, which usually ended with the both of them naked and tangled in sheets. He was pretty certain that there were far worse outcomes to a personality clash like theirs, and supposed that he'd rather take his chances with her crazy, knowing where it would ultimately lead.

And so he allowed her to flick open the button on his jeans as he reached up and yanked the straps of her cami down off her shoulders. Certainly these days wouldn't last... School would end, and he would have to get a full-time job, and there would eventually be no more long lazy afternoons he could spend just fooling around with the prettiest girl in school. As he shoved her shirt down her torso and her hands slid beneath the waistband of his pants, he couldn't help but grin.

One day he would look back on these days and surely laugh at how stupid he'd been. But hey...in the end, the important thing was that he could always truthfully say he did fuck the Homecoming Queen, and while he had no plans to keep her, she was plenty good enough for that.

so what if the sex was great?
just a temporary escape
another thing i grew to hate
but now that's over

why?
why do you always kick me when i'm high?
knock me down 'til we see eye to eye?
figured her out
although she may not be Miss Right
she'll do right now...

---

ONE YEAR, KIDS! \o/ can you believe it? :D we started posting this fic one year ago today...and look at it now. 30 chapters, 315,092 words, and still going strong. thanks to all our readers and everyone who has left us comments! also we apologize for not replying to any of the comments from the last chapter; we've been having a lot of trouble with our internet of late. Time Warner sucks.

thanks for hanging out with us! we hope you'll continue to enjoy this story! there's still lots more to come!