Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Now a Monster ❯ Chick ( Chapter 3 )

AN: Just looking at the length might give you a clue as to why it took so long for me to update. Thanks for being patient. This chapter has not been proofread. I'll try to get that done and post the proofread chapter along with my next post.

Now a Monster

Chapter 3: Chick

Vincent

I clung to the warmth next to me, shivering in cold. Part of me knew it wasn't really cold, that physically I was warm, but I couldn't stop shivering. The terrified cries of the dying screamed and echoed in my head. The smell of blood, the horrid, slick warmth of internal organs spilling over my hands, the taste of rotting flesh, I desperately wanted to get away from them, but I was frozen. Even the tears on my face felt like ice.

“Shhhh.” Warm hands, warm arms slipped around me, driving some of the cold back. “Shhh.”

I snuggled deeper into the warmth, trying to hide in it, hoping it would drive the memories away.

“Shhhh. It's okay. Shhh.” The hands and arms wrapped themselves around me, keeping me close, keeping me away from the blood and death. “Shhhh.”

I sighed, relaxing, feeling myself falling down into a warm, comforting sleep…

>00<

When I first saw him, he was like a half grown chocobo, all awkward wings, gangling legs, and naïve eyes. He was in the cafeteria balancing a tray with one hand and a cup of tea with another while trying to desperately dodge around an accountant without spilling his meal. He managed the feat, smiled proudly, then promptly slammed into a mail boy, sending his tray flying through the air in one direction and rebounding comically in the opposite one.

“Assistant Director… science.” Veld muttered, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

We were having lunch over in a far corner. It was a “recommendation” from our boss that the Turks mingle with the other Shinra employees to improve the division image, so we all sacrificed our stomachs in a scheduled rotation. Today was Veld's and my turn to swill the foul goop that passed as food for the wretches consigned to this culinary hell. It was supposed to be roast beef, string beans, mashed potatoes, and apple pie. I considered it another attempt by my boss to kill me.

“Nice.” I turned away.

“Hmph. Not your usual.” Veld idly tapped his pie with his spoon, watching in fascination as the stuff quivered like jelly.

The usual was some brainless, pretty toy that I amused myself with till it started whining and clinging, then I would explain, often with weaponry, that I was done playing and it would be better if the toy went away. Fast. The toy would leave, and I'd find myself a new one. They weren't hard to find, but they were…dull. The last toy had only managed to keep my interest for two weeks before I had to physically pull her arms off my waist and threaten to shoot her to get her out the door. It left a bad feeling in my gut when I was out the next day, eyed a pretty-boy store clerk, and realized the only difference was that he wouldn't want babies.

Mr. Assistant Director managed to pull himself off the floor with clumsy elbows and embarrassed smiles. He had nice hair, black, smooth, and cut into a soft, straight curtain that framed his face. His face was not what anyone would consider hansom and definitely not pretty: his mouth was too big, his eyes a little too deep set, and his forehead a bit too prominent. Still, it was an interesting face, full of life and edged by humor.

I guess that is what drew me to him. I lived death and he lived life. I walked through the world leaving death behind me, the death of people, dreams, ambitions, love. He walked through the world with a too wide smile and innocent chocobo eyes, wondering and excited about all the mysteries before him, butting his beak into everything with childlike abandon.

“Maybe, I need a change.” I shoved the tray away, promising myself I would find a vending machine later and get a candy bar, one with nuts. Nuts are nutritious. I read that once in a magazine article.

Veld looked over at Mr. Assistant Director. “He's the long term commitment type. Too many problems with those.”

I ignored him. He was used to it so went back to playing with his pie. I watched as Mr. Assistant Director wiped himself off and went to collect his spilled tray, all the while apologizing to the mail boy. Obviously, no one had taken him aside and explained the Shinra food chain to him. The mail boy should have been on his knees begging for Mr. Assitant Director's forgiveness.

He'd learn. At least I thought he would.

Three weeks later, I was abruptly assigned to him to get me out of the way of figuring out where some highly classified information kept disappearing while my boss tried to find a non-suspicious way of putting a bullet through my head. I was furious. I knew it was all politics, money, and the quest for a fat retirement fund. The information was probably in Wutai where my boss had a nice, plump, bank account and I was babysitting a scientist with a habit of smiling at everyone. I think smiling was against Shinra policy.

I pulled myself together, calmed myself, donned my professional mask, and opened the door. It was when the door abruptly collided with something soft that made a half gasp- half grunt and collapsed that I realized I wasn't as calm as I thought. I peered behind the door, and there he was, half leaning against the wall and half sprawled on the floor clutching his head with one hand, a paper clip with the other, and blinking at me like a stunned chocobo chick.

I should have known he'd be trouble. Chocobo fledglings are notoriously accident prone. I dragged him to his feet, realized by his unsteady wobble that he needed medical attention, and half carried him down the hall to an employee lounge. He crumpled on the lounge's couch, holding his head and his paperclip, whimpering to himself. I stepped outside to check for any handy vending machines to get ice, than shrugged and called for a medic.

As luck would have it, they sent Bibi, the last toy I had gotten rid of. She trotted up the hall, looking at me with wide hopeful eyes that promised forgiveness, eternal love, and many children. Seeing that Bibi was an idiot who had gotten her job by spreading her legs for each and every one of her professors and superiors, I wasn't feeling in the mood to be forgiven. I was in the mood, as she kept darting longing glances my way, to shoot her.

I stepped out of the way and watched her carefully to make sure she didn't do anything too inept with my little hatchling. When her eyes strayed too much in my direction, I glowered back and set my hand on my gun. What a wonderful way to start an assignment. I wondered if I should just go back upstairs, shoot my boss, and declare myself Leader. It would result in complete chaos. I probably would end up dead, and it would trigger a bloodbath power-struggle in the Turk's ranks, but the idea still had appeal.

My mood improved when I noticed that Mr. Assistant Director was amused by the performance. Bibi fluttered; I fingered my gun. Bibi, remembering my pressing the gun against her throat, fluttered more; I reciprocated by flicking the safety off. Mr. Assistant's lips twitched and his dark eyes laughed.

How interesting.

When Bibi's nerves finally failed, bringing an end to the game, I carefully trundled Mr. Assistant back to his office. I settled him at his desk, and proceeded to play another game: ghost. It's a fun game. I'd amused myself with it on many dull assignments. The rules are simple. I get in the way, all the while I make sure I am not actually in the way. It's a game of fine lines, unconscious comfort zones, and personal boundaries. He would twitch in his chair, bringing himself into my space and unconsciously rebound out of it. I would sway away slightly then shift and sway back into his space at a different angle. He'd shift away and I'd reposition. Add to that a small dash of menace with a hint of silent danger, and he became twitchy.

I wondered how long the fledgling was going to last. With the head injury, I bet two hours. My fun was interrupted by Gast, who came in to check on his newest protégé. Word had it that the president was getting tired of Gast. The fallout probably had something to do with a woman. Most likely Gast got a bit more attention from the ladies than Shinra's portly president which was causing hard feelings. Mr. Assistant was the president's way of reminding Gast that he could be quickly and easily replaced.

My chick didn't figure that out though. He just smiled happily, if somewhat painfully, at his boss. Poor chick. I was sure he was going to get eaten. Gast wasn't going to let anyone take his position. He'd worked hard for it, and still worked hard for it. Lowering himself to trawl amongst the city's whores and back alley gambling dens had to grate on his aristocratic nerves.

Once Gast finished gloating and left, I bundled my little hatchling up and herded him back toward his apartment. After watching him for a few moments, I began to wonder how he ever managed to live to get to work the first day, much less survived each subsequent trip. He had no survival skills. He ambled along the city street, smiling at people who would have put a knife in him for his watch if I hadn't been at his side, and pausing in some of the worst, most dangerous areas to look at a flower, a pretty poster, or a nice window display. Even guarding the president on an official visit to the slums wasn't this bad. The president at least knew to move quickly, to not make eye contact, and to always remember Midgar was not a safe place to pause to look at the scenery in unless you had a Turk or two lurking at your elbow and a support team stationed in various lookout points as snipers.

When we got to his apartment, I was less than comforted. The family downstairs were all long term drug addicts (I could tell by their daughter's erratic behavior and nervous ticks that she'd been born with too many chemicals in her veins), the locks on the front door were cabinet locks that had been poorly installed, and the windows didn't latch down. I wandered around the small apartment wondering if I got down on my knees I could spot the chalk outlines from the previous tenant.

My chick was blissfully unaware of all this and stretched out on his couch. When I tried to tell him he was living in a death trap, he looked completely clueless and gave me lip.

Intresting. My chick had a backbone, a funny sarcastic one, too.

I wandered back to see if I could manage to fix the window latches as I pondered this. My hatchling was getting more interesting. He was smart, very smart to be exact. He was cute, maybe even hovering around pleasant looking with a hint of distinguished lurking in his future. He had a somewhat odd sense of humor, and now he had enough of a backbone to be mouthy to someone with a gun.

Very interesting.

He was still on the couch when I left, sleeping with a hand tossed over his head and the blanket tangled around him, all arms, legs, knees and elbows. I wondered if he'd grow up to be one of those mythical gold chocobos or if he'd just be a perky yellow. I slipped out quietly, hoping not to wake him, and made my way back to HQ.

Veld was waiting for me. “Wanna go fer drinks?”

The slurred together words, the hint of street accent, were a tip off. He had information that he wanted to tell me and didn't want to say it anywhere a surveillance camera or audio could pick it up. I played along, shrugging.

“Sure.” I yawned. “Liven up my day.”

We ambled out, chatting about secretaries, a new gun smith that had just opened up, and any other mindless babble that two tired Turks would talk about. I tossed in a few yawns and complained about babysitting a scientist. He fumbled with his wallet and muttered about needing to stop at a bank. We looked like nothing more than two men leaving at the end of a long day. It was a good act, one perfected over many secrets, boring stake outs, and Shinra's policy of bugging every inch of the building.

A few standard dodges and twists later we were sprawled on the floor in Veld's apartment drinking. Personally, I had always preferred the clear biting warmth of rum, and Veld preferred the earthy tones of whiskey. His house, his rules, so I tossed back a shot of whiskey and nudged my glass over for another.

“So, get into his pants yet?” Veld tossed back his shot and licked a stray drop off his lips.

“No.” I accepted another shot and drank it.

I wasn't going to confess I hadn't even tried. I knew Veld, and if I made even a tiny hint that I wasn't interested, he'd have been chasing after my chick. Comments aside, he was a long term relationship waiting for a chance to commit and he'd been right, my chick was a long term relationship in waiting, too. Veld also liked spunk and brains which my fledgling had plenty of. I wasn't ready to bow out of the game yet. Maybe I was turning into a long-termer.

“Hmmm.” Veld filled my glass again then his own. “Old man Shinra has his eye on him. I'm guessing he might be the next director.”

I nodded. The president may have been a fool in some areas, but he knew how to pick talent. For my fledgling to be in the position he was in, he had to be the best. The problem was, of course, he was a clueless chocobo chick. The politics, in-fighting, and backstabbing that were all normal operating procedure for Shinra were sure to turn him into giblets.

“He's got Gast worried.” Veld emptied his glass and rolled it between his palms. “The boss is worried too.”

“Really.” I leaned back against the couch. Veld was getting the conversation around to the point he wanted it at and I was interested in where he was heading.

“Only the boss isn't worried about Hojo.” He leaned back to settle against an old armchair.

Funny. We always referred to our boss only as boss. He had a name: Johan Islie. In his days as a plain Turk, he'd been called Jin, but now only a few even remembered it. Since Jin took leadership, the death rate amongst experienced Turks had reached an all time high. Neither Veld nor I had any illusions. We'd be sent out on assignment soon and we wouldn't come back, leaving only the rawest of rookies to run the department. Our continued good health was only due to paranoia and teamwork.

“Keep an eye on yourself.” Veld put his glass down and filled it. “Things are looking rough.”

Rough indeed.

I finally resorted to “accidentally” killing the boss after a group of his supporters showed up at a stake-out and opened fire on the car Veld and I were supposed to be in. Amazingly, Veld and I were not in the car as it got perforated but a couple of blocks over, sitting on a dumpster, sipping coffee, and appreciating the show. I ended the evening owing him dinner. I bet on some type of explosives; he bet on firearms. Still, it was tragic how the supporter's car crashed, killing everyone in it. Really. I guess that the boss just couldn't deal with the loss and got a bit out of control. You know how some people handle grief by striking out around them wildly becoming a danger to themselves and those around them. Sad that I broke his neck like that while trying to keep him from hurting himself. Really. Very sad.

The resulting silent war we all fought in the halls of Shinra's HQ and the back streets of Midgar was brief and bloody. Jin's “retirement” of most of the experienced Turks worked in my favor, and with Veld's backing, I quickly got control of the department. A few stragglers had to be weeded out, but when it was all over we had a nice memorial service for Jin and his loyal men. The president even had a whole fifteen seconds of silence in their honor. It was quite moving… or maybe a glitch in the intercom system.

It was even sadder when I had to give up babysitting my fledgling. He was fun to be around. He'd latched himself onto a silly, blond girl and was twirling around in relationship bliss. While she was a nice enough piece of candy, she was still too fluffy for him. She was completely focused on parties, dancing, and nice clothes, all of which were only minimally interesting to him. He liked nights out drinking, but unlike her, it wasn't the center of his life. He liked talking to people, quiet moments of thought, and tea, lots of tea. There were too many basic differences for them to work well together. I was wondering when he'd see it and move on. I had a bet going with Veld that she'd shack up with one of their richer friends who would provide her with more clothes and toys, and my little starry eyed chick would wallow in self pity till he noticed that his secretary was eyeing his attributes every time he walked past her desk.

Still, a new Leader's job doesn't allow for small indulgences like playing with chocobos.

I didn't see him again till the president called me into his office and ordered me to go investigate a new scientific find up in Bone Village. Gast, who was sitting off to the side during the meeting, was certain that the sample that had been found was the keystone to building Shinra's “influence in the modern world.” In other words, it had military applications.

I already had a preliminary report from an onsite operative, Dmitri, stating that there was already trouble. A few of the diggers had disappeared and one of the scientists that had originally marked the sample as noteworthy had been found dead outside of town with a broken back. While it looked like an accident, Dmitri was suspicious. By the amount of salivating and panting the president and Gast were doing just thinking of getting their hands on the sample, I was willing to back up Dmitri's suspicions.

“Take Hojo with you.” Gast called as I headed out the door. “He's familiar with the area and as a bio-chemist he's ideal to study the sample onsite.”

I paused to check with the president, who nodded.

“Yes, sir.” I gave one last salute to the president and headed down to make arrangements.

I hadn't talked to my fledgling for nearly a year. I'd seen him around the building, still knocking his beak into everything and gangling into mishaps with a smile. I'd heard that he'd broken off with the blond girl when Veld gleefully told me I only half won the bet. She left him for a rich boy, but he never noticed his secretary eyeing his ass. I bought Veld a few rounds of drinks in Turtle's Paradise and he bought me a good bottle of red wine to even the bets.

He was sitting at his desk when I came in. He hadn't changed much. His hair was a bit longer, and he didn't look quite so dewy and naïve, but he was the same clumsy, chocobo hatchling I'd taken care of before. Since he was busy, I kept quiet and watched him. I considered playing ghost, but he looked unhappy enough and I could guess the news of his returning to Bone Village would be far from welcome.

When he paused, thinking over how he wanted to phrase something in his report, I interrupted, “You're presence is required in Bone Village.”

He visibly wilted. “I'm rather busy. I have this project that Professor Gast has declared a top priority.”

He tried to wiggle out of it, poor chick, not realizing he was doomed. The president had spoken and if the only way to get him up to Bone Village was in a body bag, I'd do it. I told him to be back in an hour to leave and left him in a flutter of panicked wings and small squawks of protest.

He was still cute.

I spent the next hour running through the procedures with Veld. While I held the title of Leader, both Veld and I really held the position. He was always better at politics and espionage and I was better at organization and coordination. My sudden relocation to Bone Village was annoying, but we managed to work out the logistics by the time my chick reappeared with a small mountain of luggage. It was only then did I realize I hadn't packed.

How bad could it be?

I found out when we got there. By the time we got to the inn, I had lost feeling in my feet. The lobby had a fireplace and I went to stand next to it, hoping that I wouldn't lose any toes, and my little fledgling went to greet what was apparently an old friend.

She was a pretty lady, too bad about her odor problem. My chick ran off to see if his old house was still vacant and I was hauled down the inn's halls to my room. The inn was a tent with canvas walls strung from the over arching bones. -Who decided to build a tent inn in the middle of the Northern Continent? I could see it in Mideel, with its balmy climate, but Bone Village!- My room was even less impressive. It held an old footlocker that looked like it had gone to summer camp with a rock troll, an old folding cot with two moth-eaten blankets on it, a malfunctioning kerosene heater, and a complimentary, eager to please bed warmer, if you didn't mind the fish smell.

“If you get cold, let me know.” She smiled coyly at me. “You're welcome to spend the night with me in my room.”

Freezing or fish?

I chanced freezing, hoping I could get to the general store and get a few supplies. I could also contact Veld and have him send some of my things. Dmitri also came to mind as a possible solution. I'd much rather sleep on Dmitri's couch than to have sex with someone who smelled like small, dead fish. As soon as she left, a maid came in to “check if I needed anything”.

“Would you like more towels?” She was eyeing me like I was the last piece of chocolate at a chocoholic convention.

Seeing that I had no towels, the bathroom's location had yet to be disclosed to me, I wasn't sure if a tent/inn would have hot water, and I was already thinking of hunting down my operative, I shook my head. “How about a working heater.”

“Oh, sorry. That's the best one we have. You want to go someplace warmer? You could come over to my place; it's nearby. It's much warmer there. I wouldn't mind if you come.” She emphasized her point by addressing the last remark to my crotch.

I hustled her out of the room, wondering if the women in Bone Village all had some hereditary personality disorder. I waited till she was gone and stepped out in the hall. One of the inn's bell hops strolled down the hall, did a double take, and stumbled back to stare at me.

“Wow. Haven't seen you before.” He looked me over in a disturbingly familiar way. He was probably the maid's twin brother. “Want to come over for…uh…a drink?”

I reevaluated my previous thought; apparently everyone in Bone Village had the disorder.

I escaped and went to the store where the shop clerk eyed my ass and suggested I come over to his place since he was sure he could find something to warm me up. Another customer and his boyfriend chased me down an aisle to ask if I'd like to go make a sandwich. The pilot of the helicopter we'd arrived in seemed to have caught the malady, hinting that he'd give me a ride if I wanted one. I barely paid attention to when a fellow guest suggested we share body heat when I escaped back to my room, telling myself that starting a mission by killing everyone in town was not an auspicious beginning.

I was now even colder than before. I'd lost most of the feeling in my hands and I was just about to go find Dmitri and demand a bit of warmth when Hojo called from the hallway. He'd set up a time for a meeting with the village's head man, Davies, and suggested I come over to his place for dinner.

My chick was, if nothing else, sane. He was also a bit of a hedonist, so I could bet that his place had heat and the ever present hot tea he continually drank. I stumbled after him as he strolled back through town, waving to his friends. If my teeth hadn't been chattering so badly, I'd have told him to hurry himself along.

As I expected, his house was warm. I hurried over to the heater to assess the damage to my fingers and long lost toes. He bustled over to the tiny kitchen and fussed around with pots and kettles. I was considering sitting down next to the heater and basking in its warmth, when he came over and handed me the expected cup of tea.

He stood looking at me a moment, then said, “Mr. Valentine, I was thinking. It might be better if you stayed the night with me.”

I wondered if I had stepped off into some alternate dimension, or if I had received a head wound and was hallucinating this. Was my little fledgling was propositioning me?

I looked him over carefully, but he just blinked innocently back at me, just a clueless chick bumbling his way through the world. He didn't have even the slightest hint that what he'd just said could be interpreted as a bad, overused, pick-up line. Ironic, since he was the one person in this freezer that I would have gleefully bedded. I'd been contemplating it since I went into his lab to tell him about our trip. I would've bet he'd be a sweet partner: playful, tender, and curious.

I accepted his offer and it was all set up. Davies arrived for a dinner of canned soup and cheap, red wine. I still wasn't sure about this Davies, so, after eating, I slipped out of the drinking and went back to sit by the heater. I wasn't cold anymore, but it gave them some privacy to talk and gave me a good vantage point to keep an eye on them and the door.

My hatchling got a bit tipsy, but with a bit of glaring, remembered to ask for the important things, like the sample, a bed, and some bedding. They drank the rest of the bottle then Davies staggered off. Hojo wobbled over to clean up the dishes, and I sat and contemplated the idiosyncrasies of Bone Village. I was guessing, by the glee in Gast's eyes, that Hojo and I would be here for quite some time. I had a few suspicions why I was assigned, mainly about a few financial problems that Gast was having and how convenient and confusing it would be if the Turk Leader was suddenly far away. Too bad Veld had been the one who was tracing that small monetary leak. I could guess my chick was here so Gast could mend fences with the president without any lingering replacements lurking in the halls.

Hojo had managed to wobble over to his bed and collapse on the small pile of pillows he'd thrown on it. My drunken chick did love his comforts. Too bad he insisted on inflicting poor quality jazz music on his guests though. As soon as he dozed off, I went and turned his music player off. Somehow, it didn't surprise me that he had a bright yellow one.

The bed and the sample came with a group of workmen, waking Hojo up. The two boyfriends from the store were amongst the delivery crew and gave me a friendly leer then looked over at Hojo enviously, obviously wondering what a gawky chick had that they didn't. I didn't feel like explaining. The very things they lacked were what would have kept them from understanding the explanation.

I set up the bed next to the fireplace as Hojo chattered happily, if not always completely coherently, to the men and offered them hot tea. The couple decided to move on to more promising adventures and started not so slyly propositioning my fledgling. I decided it was time to clean my gun. They got the message and scampered off. My chick puttered happily around a few more minutes, bumping into various pieces of furniture, and stumbling over his toes. When he decided to try to make more tea, nearly catching an oven mitt on fire, I herded him to bed and tucked him in.

The next morning he was bouncy and bright eyed. He made something that might have been fried eggs and bacon for breakfast then raced out before I could ask what the blackened lumps on my plate were. I was left contemplating whether I should take over the cooking or not when Dmitri knocked at my door.

I opened the door, ushered him in, tossed my breakfast into the disposal, and poured myself some of Hojo's tea. I put extra milk and sugar in it. Milk is protein and one of the food groups, so I was already ahead in the nutrition game, just four…or is it three more food groups to go.

Dmitri sat himself primly down at Hojo's bone table and I offered him some tea, which he accepted. He was one of my better informants. I'd considered making him a full Turk, but he liked his post and had politely declined. I didn't argue. I would rather have him content in a lesser position than have him miserable, or worse quit.

“The scientist, Nakami, was found two days after he made his official report to Shinra about the sample they found.” He nodded to the sample that was sitting in front of him. “It looked like he'd fallen into one of the excavation pits and broke him back.”

“How far is that pit from town?” I sat down, nudging the sample to the side and setting his tea in front of him.

For some reason my chick had put the sample in the middle of the table on a small doily like a center piece. I would have thought it was some bizarre joke, but looking around his home, and remembering his apartment, I decided he had no taste.

“Only a ten meters.” Dmitri sipped his drink. “Quite surprising that no one heard anything.”

I hummed and considered. Ten meters was not far. A man who falls would cry out, unless something, like being already dead, prevented it. People would hear otherwise. “Any suspects?”

He shrugged. “None, right now. Or rather too many. The archaeologists found a small vein of silver a year ago and between the new hires to mine the ore and the prospectors who rove in and out of the village, I can't keep accurate accounts of who was or was not in the village at the time.”

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “Here's a list of the people I am sure were in the village at the time. I added a section of those who might have been here at the bottom.”

I pocketed the paper. It was a long list, but still better than nothing. “Good.”

He went on to discuss local happenings. It was pretty standard, so I let him ramble, giving him his moment, thanked him for his efforts, tossed in a bit more praise for his work, and shuffled him out the door. I dug out my PHS and called Veld.

He promised to send some of my things on the next transport and promised to check the backgrounds of the people on Dmitri's list.

“How's your scientist? Good lay?” He asked after the formalities of the job were over.

“Don't know.” I sat back and started absently nudging the sample's jar around with my fingers.

“That's not like you.” Veld was shuffling papers in the background. “I know you're interested.”

“Hmm.” He was right; I was interested. I just wasn't sure what I was interested in. The thought of doing nothing more than talking him out of his clothes and using him for a week or two of games left me feeling oddly unsettled. He was the type that would give himself to another person and expect a happily ever after or at least a happily few months after. Unfortunately, as any of my former toys would be glad to tell you, I wasn't the kind of person who stayed interested in someone very long. I'd get bored, start looking at new toys, and eventually find the latest, greatest toy on the market, leaving him hurt. The thought of my fledgling hurting made me feel…uncomfortable…maybe a bit guilty, an emotion I was only passingly familiar with.

“Unless of course you're going to fuck Dmitri.” Veld tossed that out, probably to just irritate.

“Considering it.” I had briefly during our breakfast meeting, but I didn't want to risk losing a good operative just because I left the grand toy box of Midgar behind. Not that I'd had time for a lot of toys. Since I ushered Jin off to the happy lands of retirement, I had time for only a handful, each lasting only a few days before I sent them away. Oddly, they seemed to be getting stupider, less interesting, and too artificially glossy. The last, a curvy girl from Costa del Sol with sloe eyes and pouty lips had only lasted a couple of days before I couldn't stand the thought of kissing through all her makeup. I also objected to when she tried to leave hickies on my neck. The last thing I needed was to show up to a meeting with the president with a hickey or two on my neck. She was a soft ride, but a shallow one. I finally shoved her out of my car in one of the slums suggesting she find herself a street corner.

“Yeah. Considering.” Veld wasn't buying that.

I frowned, becoming a bit irritated. My personal life was little concern. We had a suspiciously dead scientist, a highly important sample, and no solid proof that anything was dire enough for me to be freezing to death on the Northern Continent. I hated boxing with shadows. I nudged the sample again, noting it was moving oddly.

“Any other problems?” I asked, picking the sample up and peering closely at it.

“A few of the rookies think it's fun to cop an attitude.” Veld sounded like he might have done another “clearing of the ranks.”

“And?” I sometimes wondered just how long I'd have to deal with Jin's mistakes. He'd let his favorites get away with gross insubordination and it had insidiously spread. Now even the newest of recruits would go strutting around with no brains and less discipline. Getting even small tasks done was often a battle of dimwitted attitudes and pointless violence.

The sample rippled.

“I dealt with it.” Veld grumbled. “Instituted some of the old policies.”

The old policies. I suppose the word draconian would describe them best. I remembered something about insubordination earning a quick trip to an icy bath in the ocean about a half mile off shore. The survivors, if there were any, were placed in solitary till they apologized, meekly and humbly, to their superiors. Other offences were even more direct. Whipping. I wondered if the old post was still out in the back of the gun range. My stomach twisted a bit in remembrance. I hadn't been the most ideal recruit Shinra ever inducted into the Turks.

The sample swirled.

“Hmm. Let me call you back. Something's come up.” I barely waited for Veld to grunt an assent before I hung up.

When I was angry, it had rippled.

I gave it a try. I closed my eyes, picturing in my head my father walking out the door, leaving my mother crying. How I hated him for that. She'd found out he'd been sleeping with one of his co-workers at the university, a young, willow-slender math professor. He shrugged it off, not even bothering to deny it.

“You don't expect me to just stay home with you, do you? All you do is housework and whine about taking care of the boy.” He had a habit of calling me that, the boy. He waved at her. “You've also gotten flabby, stupid, and lazy. Be happy you have what you have. If it hadn't been for the boy, I would have gotten rid of you.”

My mother had worked hard, taking care of me, taking care of the mansion he'd bought to impress everyone, making sure everything was perfect at all times so that if he dropped in with colleagues our lives would look like the perfect, enviable model of happiness. If she wasn't fit and curvy, who was to blame when she had no time to take care of herself? If her conversation was less than ingenious and witty, what did he expect when she only had me to talk to? If she got tired, if she got worn down, if she was pale and drab and sad, who was to blame? How dare he walk into the house she kept so immaculate for him and tell her such things. How dare he make my mother cry.

I wanted to kill him for that, a bullet for each of my mother's tears.

I opened my eyes and looked at the sample. It was rippling angrily.

I tried another emotion. I pictured Veld dancing on a table at my promotion party. A few of our surviving friends had whistled, yelling for him to take it all off, and, drunk as he was at the time, he did it. I was happy one of the guys had brought a camera. The look on Veld's face when I got those pictures developed was nearly the best gift I'd gotten. Only Quicksilver topped it.

The sample swirled.

I put it down and considered. When I think, I tend to clean, a habit from my mother. Since the house was disgustingly filthy, I let my hands do what they wanted while my mind tumbled things over. I considered cell membranes, electrical impulses, and other things. It didn't seem like a good thing that the sample reacted like that. To react to an emotion, you had to have something to react with. I pondered possible ways for this to happen. I didn't like my conclusions.

I had nearly finished when Veld called back with problems with security in the main lobby of HQ. The president wanted extra patrols in response to a newspaper article about the increase of crime in Midgar (mostly caused by his need to control the local drug traffic and the resulting turf war between the existing suppliers and the Turks.) It was stupid, but it gave rookies something to do, so we discussed new schedules and shifts.

We were just finishing the details when my chick came back in and stood looking around. “Wow. You do windows.”

I'd had an irritating day and I didn't need a hatchling warking nonsense in my ear. My gun was an easy solution. He scampered out again to go do whatever chocobos do when not knocking into furniture and tumbling over their own feet.

I went back to discussing assignments with Veld. I also suggested that the crime rate drop soon. With a bit of price slashing, a few strategic assassinations, and a lock on the supply routes, we could put the suppliers out of business in a matter of weeks. (If we could get funding, which was always a problem.) After that we could clean up the rest of the strays with a public “police action” of a series of raids on the home kitchens and street dealers. We could even pass the whole affair off as a routine sweep of the slums to keep the crime down, providing the PR people with fodder for their “Shinra's Fight Against Crime” campaign.

It took the better part of an hour to work out all the problems. When that was done and I hung up, I got called back in a few minutes. Veld wanted me to talk to one of the rookies, which meant he wanted my opinion about the rookie. It only took me a few moments to realize the idiot was an idiot and wonder why he was even in the Turks.

My chick came back offering a present and looking hopeful. I wondered what I ever did to deserve this, then, even while I was snarling obscenities that would have had my mother bearing down on me with the vengeance of a fury, I had a odd thought that I should do whatever I'd done more often.

He clambered in, pleased that his gift worked and started fluttering around. When I got off the phone, I told him what I had found out about the sample. He nearly bounced in glee when it reacted for him too. It kept him busy and out of trouble for the rest of the day, leaving me to work out the rest of the continuing string of problems that sprung up because of my relocation.

He's funny when he's working. The whole world goes away for him. He forgot that he'd started cooking some gray lumpy stuff that smelled vaguely glue-like, which I feared was supposed to be dinner. He missed his fishy friend dropping by to drop off groceries and a warning to me that I should learn to cook if I didn't already know how. He ran out of paper for his observations and never noticed that I substituted an old yellowed steno pad that I went down to the store to buy for him. When I put the grey lumpy stuff down in front of him, he ate it without even pausing in his scribbling and examining. When he started shivering, he kept right on working. He didn't even pause when I finally put a blanket over him to keep him warm. Only when I noticed that his handwriting was illegible and he was barely keeping his eyes open, did I interrupt and trundle him off to bed, where he cuddled the sample like a favored toy. Only when he was deeply asleep, did I manage to pry the sample away.

I didn't like the idea of him holding it so close while completely unaware and vulnerable.

I set it aside and went out. After being stuck on the phone most of the day with Veld and keeping an eye on the fledgling, I wanted to check if anything interesting had happened. Dmitri was in his house, frowning at a small fragment of bone when I knocked. I waited a moment then opened the door cautiously. Dmitri sat back down looking relieved to not have to leave his work.

“We have a small…occurance.” Dmitri nodded as I came in. “A couple of the archaeologists are grumbling about missing equipment and their sites being disturbed.” He nodded me in the direction of a plate of food that was sitting on the stove with a cover on it. “They're blaming the prospectors, but I'm not so sure. The sites that are being disturbed are the sites the sample was found in.”

I took my plate, nodded my thanks, and sat down to listen.

“I have also heard a few grumblings from a couple of prospectors at the store that people are digging on their claims.” He carefully put the small bone piece in a plastic bag and put it in a small file box. “They blame the diggers.”

“Getting the two sides to fight would cover a lot of tracks.” I paused with a fork of fluffy mashed potatoes and creamy gravy midway to my mouth. “If anything happens, both sides will blame the other.”

Dmitri nodded, picking up a small tooth and carefully dusting it off with a small brush. “I agree. I also found out another interesting fact. It seems that the dead scientist talked to one of the prospectors about his report. Nothing confidential apparently, but that prospector has disappeared.”

“Perp or victim?” I wondered aloud, savoring the juicy roast I was eating. Dmitri was an excellent cook and I was already planning on more meals over here and leaving my chick to eat his canned cuisine.

“Seeing the man left behind all of his things: money, tools, clothes. I would guess victim.”

I finished my meal as I mulled things over. Someone or someones were doing two things: killing anyone who knew too much about the sample and stealing tools to search for more of it. This of course led to the fact that they were still here, were likely to continue to stay here, wanted the sample, wanted something about the sample kept quiet, and were willing to kill anyone who knew too much about the sample. Conclusion: I needed to get closer to the problem that was developing, and I needed to get home before someone barbequed my chick.

“Thanks. I'll start looking into it tomorrow.” I rinsed my plate off and put it in the sink. “Keep an eye open for anything else.”

“Of course.” He smiled slightly and nodded. “I'll look after Hojo if you need time.”

I nodded as I stepped out the door, scanning the street. I wasn't sure I wanted Dmitri watching my fledgling. I knew Hojo would be safe, but… I brushed the feeling aside. Hojo would be perfectly safe in Dmitri's care. The man had gone through much of the same training in assassination and protection that I had. There was no reason for me to feel like standing guard over him like an anxious nanny.

Damn. Maybe I was becoming a long termer.

I walked back across the street and went back into Hojo's skull house. He was still snuggled in his overly pillowed nest making soft sleepy sounds. I checked around the place, just to be safe. The windows were sealed firmly shut, the flues of the fireplace and stove were still secure with their screens intact, but I made a mental note to check the outside tomorrow morning. I would rather not come down with a fatal case of gas poisoning in my sleep. The rest of the skull looked firm and secure. Even the door had an adequate lock. I'd have to requisition a better one, I decided, but with both Dmitri and myself keeping an eye on the place, I wasn't too worried.

The only security fault I could see was my too trusting chick. He was sure to bumble his way into something that would singe his feathers. I settled onto my cot and considered what to do about him. He was such an innocent, happy hatchling. He liked everyone. He even liked me. He'd probably make friends with the killer and get his brains blown across a wall while serving the murderer tea. Even with a warning, he'd just keep smiling happily, looking for some mythical, dark, sinister person to be lurking in a shadowy corner, while completely ignoring the jovial lunatic that wore a friend's face. Locking him and the sample into protective custody would make him miserable, and having to stand guard over him while searching for the killer would be problematical. I also didn't like having him angry and hurt. I'd much rather have him smiling and warking silly nonsense at me. The only practicable alternative was to hunt the killer down fast, before they could harm him.

I was out of the skull and at the store early the next morning while soft chocobo snores still drifted through the skull. I ambled in with my hair rumpled and my tie tucked into a pocket, and drifted over to the counter. The counter clerk, the same one as before, grinned at me and promptly dropped his girlie magazine to socialize a bit.

“How you been?” He eyed me over. “Heard you're staying with Hojo.” Subtly is not a Bone Villager trait I decided as his eyes lit up, looking for a juicy piece of gossip.

I shrugged but saw an opening. “Yeah.” I laughed softly. “We've known each other since he came to Midgar.”

“Good friends?” He looked both pleased that he got a bit of news to share with all his friends and disappointed that his dreams of getting me horizontal, or even partially naked where fading fast.

“More.” I looked around, ignoring his disillusionment. “We forgot a few things though. Have any lube?”

The kid sighed. “Back shelf.”

“Thanks.” I went back and got the stuff, leaving him and his imagination to supply the details I wanted him to think.

When I got back to the counter, couple of archaeologists were now there, laughing as they bought coffee and talked to the clerk. I put on my most amiable expression and slumped lazily over to them. They easily made room for me as they waited for the clerk to finish with their coffee.

“…then the side of the pit just fell in.” One laughed waving his arms in a whooshing motion. “And there it was, after three months of digging…a sewer pipe.”

“Oh man, burned.” Another laughed then turned to me. “Hey, you're the new guy. Nice to meet you, I'm Banning,” he waved to his fellows, “that's Gopher, Keno, and Tomas.”

They all gave me friendly smiles and nods.

I smiled back, “Vincent. Nice to meet you.”

“You ever do digging?” Gopher, a small, wiry man eyed me over. “We could use some extra help.”

I considered it a moment. Getting in with the diggers would help me investigate, but if I wanted to shovel mud, I wouldn't have become a Turk. There was just something about standing knee deep in dirt that had never appealed to me. My father would have said I lacked a good work ethic. I preferred to think of it as playing to my strengths.

“No.” I shrugged regretfully. “I'm not much for digging. I heard there was some kind of old city up here, though. I was kind of hoping that since I'm stuck here that I could look at that.”

Keno nodded. “I'm heading up an expedition for the city in a couple of days.” He eyed my modified uniform. “We could use someone to help us out with the monsters we might encounter.”

“Great. Count me in.” I laughed ruffling my hair out of my face, making it look shaggier and more ill-kept.

“Whatcha' doing up here anyway?” Banning had his coffee and was sipping it as the others got served.

I ordered a coffee so I could join in the group more easily. “Mainly just make sure Hojo doesn't get eaten by any lizards and put some locks on his doors.” I shrugged and offered any lurking killers a bit more encouragement to underestimate me. “Routine stuff really. I think the boss just wanted me out of his hair…you know, politics.” I gave a small grin. “But hey, it's the first vacation from my desk that I've had in years.”

Thanks to my dear father, I knew academics all lived, breathed, and despised office politics. They all gave me comforting looks laced with a familiar expression. My father wore that look enough for me to catch it. It was the “you're a slacker” look. While it irritated, it also worked for me. A slacker Turk was hardly a threat. A slacker Turk who was fucking his housemate and taking a vacation was even less of a threat. Add to that my lazy, dumb-ass attitude, the desk jockey comment, and the lingering hint that the boss wanted me gone, and my killer should be quite smug and comfortable.

As they all got back to more interesting topics, like bones, bones, and even more bones. I sipped my coffee and ambled along with them as they went back to the excavation pits. I knew basically what they were doing, so I could make a few semi-intelligent comments from time to time, and since they were a friendly bunch, I had no problem fitting in. In a couple of hours, I'd seen all the photos of their families, dogs, and girlfriends. I even made myself useful by fixing a malfunctioning arc light and convincing a broken down jeep to live another day.

I also attracted a following. The younger archaeologists, mainly the interns, clustered around me like hungry dragons eyeing a tasty young deer. They preened and flattered and offered their undying devotion. It was like standing in a toy box, all I had to do was reach out and select one to play with. I finally called an end to the festivities by waving to my new coffee buddies and went back to the store to see if Veld had managed to send me my things yet. One of the more devoted of my admirers, Meg, tagged along with me like an overeager puppy.

“You must be very important.” She gazed up at me with wide, beseeching eyes, begging for a moment of my time. I knew if I gave in, I would have to scrape her off with a knife, which would probably interfere with my budding friendship with the archaeologists.

Davies had a box for me, which I had to sign for. While I scribbled my name, Meg picked up the box for me.

“I'll carry it.” She gave me a brave, hopeful smile. “I'm trying to build up more muscles so I can dig better.”

I nodded and walked back to the skull. She toddled along at my side, smiling proudly that she had managed to earn a small crumb of my gratitude. I was less than thrilled and it irritated me. She would make a good toy. She would, in her eagerness to please, allow me access to the diggers and cement my position with the archaeologists. I'd also have a warm bed to amuse myself in and it would bolster my image of a do-nothing slacker with the added spin of not even having enough integrity to be loyal to my lover. With a bit of handling, I might even manage to get the killer to believe I was willing to look the other direction for the right price. So why did I want to grab the box and pitch her across the street?

The answer was sitting at the table filling out forms as I walked in. While Meg put the box down and prattled nonsense at me, I went over to the fire and glowered at it. I wanted the chick, the silly, smiling, chocobo fledgling that was too smart, too innocent, and nearly had “I'm going to be a lot of trouble” tattooed on his forehead. And worse, I was realizing that I didn't want another toy. I wanted him, only him and…

…he was flirting with Meg.

I had honestly never been in that position before. When I wanted someone, I only had to indicate a bit of interest and I got them. To finally decide I really wanted one person, and only one person, and realize that they were out the door with someone else was a situation that I'd never experienced. I stood and looked at the door they'd just exited out of for awhile then dug out my phone.

“Veld.”

“What do you do if you want someone and they're immune?” I continued blinking at the door.

I could hear my partner sniggering softly. “Finally figured it out, did you.”

“Well? What do you do?”

“Wait a moment. I want to bask in this moment.” Veld wasn't done laughing, or rubbing it in. “Vincent Valintine, Mr. Two-Week-Relationship just realized he's got his dick in a knot over a scientist.”

“Veld…” I knew it was useless, but I tried to sound menacing enough for him to detour away from his game.

“And Mr. Scientist isn't interested.” Veld snickered. “Tell me, have you figured out that he's had you by the balls for about a year now?”

“Veld…” I pointlessly tried to sound even more menacing.

“Oh, I wish I could see this.” Veld sounded absolutely gleeful.

“Answer the question, Veld.” I growled.

“He's immune to the Valentine charm?” More snickering. “Wow.”

“He just left with an archaeologist named Meg.” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“Did the big mean archaeologist take your toy away.” He cooed.

“Veld! Answer the fucking question! What do I do?” I promised myself I would make Veld pay for this someday, perhaps, a tour of the accounting department. There is a lot of corruption in accounting. He'd be perfect to investigate it.

“Get rid of her.” Veld sighed. “Really Vincent, she's just an archaeologist. Either feed her to the vlakorados or pack her off. She's hardly a problem.”

I nodded to myself. Of course, it was that simple. I'd just been so rattled that I reacted instead of acted. Thank the Planet that I had Veld. “Thanks.”

“Now that we've got that under control. Any news?”

We spent a few hours exchanging ideas, straightening out the daily problems of keeping the Turks running smoothly, and making a few arrangements for long term assignments. When we were done, I made a few more phone calls. There was a man, Jenkins, who worked down south. I'd come across his work while reading about the Ancients. The most fascinating thing about him was his nearly perfect recital of one of his graduate student's thesis without once mentioning that it wasn't his work. I gave him a call and we had a friendly little chat. When I mentioned my dear friend Meg, he was more than happy to have her join him in his quest for knowledge and of course, fresh material to plagiarize from.

By the time my chick wobbled back in, things were back in control. I looked him over carefully while sitting by the fire I'd built in the fireplace and pretended to read. He looked flushed and happy, but not freshly bedded, which meant Meg would live to find out about her new job tomorrow. Jealousy was new to me and I decided that I should explore the area thoroughly. My hatchling puttered around looking at his bed, digging into his clothes, eyeing me speculatively, obviously wondering how to get rid of me long enough to put the bed to use with Meg.

It didn't bother me. I'd already taken care of the situation. When he went in to take a shower, I went to bed, thinking of a few ideas about what to do with my chick once Meg was out of the way. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Not with my chick.

I spent the morning drinking coffee and laughing with Banning, Tomas, and Gopher. I wasn't ready to prod yet for information, but I still managed to learn a lot. The man who died, Nakami, had been one of the old timers in Bone Village. He'd gotten reputation for being a hard ass, no nonsense, slave driver. He'd made a lot of enemies, but had been respected as a scientist. His research had been impeccable. While his sudden fall into a pit was tragic, many believed that he'd been helped in by an irate coworker he'd pushed too far with his demands for perfection. No one mentioned the sample, so I sipped, grinned, and let the conversation flow around me.

Dmitri wandered by and made a few polite noises while collecting some equipment he'd left behind. The others greeted him with a few small waves and an offer of coffee, which he declined, but he quietly listened to a few stories of the wonders of finding small bone fragments as he packed his gear. When Davies arrived with a large box of donuts, distracting the others, he made a quick motion that he wanted to talk to me and left.

I stayed awhile, chomping donuts and laughing with my newest buddies. Davies seemed like a good man. I wondered why he was in Bone Village. I made a mental note to have Veld look deeper into his past. A good man, as they say, is hard to find, but bad ones always come to the surface. Seeing him in such an important position in Bone Village made him automatically suspect. Not suspect enough to make me refrain from making a few arrangements for Hojo's afternoon.

When I was satisfied that my chick would be kept busy and in groups of many witnesses, I searched out Dmitri to see what he had to report. He was in his house, watching Hojo's door intently.

“Two more last night.” He greeted me.

I was used to reports like this from various people. Veld was notorious for ambiguous comments, and working with him I'd developed a few survival skills. Mainly, wait. I sat down in a slightly dusty chair and watched Dmitri bite his lip.

“A couple of prospectors were found dead out in the fields.” He waved a slight, agitated hand. “It looks like a vlakorados killed them, but I got a good look at the bodies. There were bullet wounds.”

I nodded. “Any connection to the sample or the other killings?”

He looked at me quickly, “Yes. I talked with a few of the other prospectors. They said the two had been saying they found more of the sample and were trying to sell it.”

“I take it they found another interested party.” I frowned. “Any leads?”

“Just this.” He held out a tiny plastic bag with a tiny brown smudge in it. “I found it under one of the prospector's fingernails.”

I held the bag up, trying to make sense of the smudge. It looked like dirt to me, a bit powdery gray, but still dirt.

“The coloration caught my eye.” Dmitri jittered nervously. “Most of the dirt up here is heavily sedimentary. That is sand like you'd find on the sea floor. The only place I know that has sand like that is on the other side of the Sleeping Forest.”

“Were the prospectors familiar with the area?”

“Only the archeologists go there. You have to have a harp of some kind to get through the forest and those are hard to come by.” Dmitri gave me a hurt look. “I'm sorry Vincent, but…well…this is why I requested this post… I don't do well with dead things.”

An odd comment from someone who worked dusting bone fragments, but I understood. “Fine. Keep an eye on Hojo. I'll look into this today.”

I went back to the skull house contemplating whether sending my chick off to the mud pits to rub shoulders with his possible killer was really a wise move. Hojo was fluttering around, innocently arranging large stacks of paper on the table and floor with a happy smile on his face. It was the same besotted look he'd worn while looking at his fluffy girlfriend from a year ago.

Well, at least one of my problems was taken care of. Meg would have been told of her good fortune by now. Now I just had to keep him alive and find the killers.

While I mulled this over, he danced out the door. I saw Dmitri promptly head after him and wrestled with myself over whether to go follow my chick to keep him safe or go hunt down the killers. I chose the killers and ambled back to the store. Keno and Tomas were lounging around the counter with the clerk.

“Hey.” I wandered over oozing as much laziness as I could.

“Vincent!” Keno smiled. “We're going to get a harp, want to come?”

“Harp?” I yawned, but took note. If they had to get a harp, they couldn't have gotten sand on them, which in turn couldn't have been picked up by the dead prospector. Still, I knew how easy it was to tell a convincing lie so they were still suspects. “Why do you need a harp.”

“It's a Lunar Harp.” Tomas informed me. “It lets you pass through the Sleeping Forest. Otherwise, the forest will kill you.”

I gave a half assed shrug. “Oh, you mean to go to the city. Okay.” I looked vaguely around the store as if I expected the harp to be sitting on a shelf. “Where do you get it?”

“We've got to hire some diggers.” Keno slumped. “It's expensive and well…”

Apparently archaeologists, like most other academics, were dead broke. While I wasn't about to tell them that as Turk Leader I got paid more per month than they probably saw in a year, I did give them a grin and a laugh. “No problem. I got money. What's the fun of going on vacation broke?”

They both perked up and in only a few minutes we had a small crew of explosive happy diggers. They definitely were the stupidest bunch of diggers I'd ever met. Most at the very least know how to set charges, but these twits couldn't even do that without massive amounts of supervision. We spent most of the day calculating charge placement and trying to locate a harp without success.

I finally left Keno and Tomas to the mercy of the diggers and went to check on my fledgling. He was still being hauled around the muddy field, being shown just how all those brown stained clothes that littered Bone Village's streets came to exist. I watched him from one of the field tents, drinking whiskey laced coffee with Banning and Gopher as he was subjected to Bone Village's version of a mud bath. He looked like a lost chocobo who was trying to make the best of a bad situation. When it looked like they were nearly finished with him, I nodded goodbye and ambled out, passing Dmitri, who was quietly sorting through the day's finds under one of the canopies overlooking the excavations.

I'd had a hard day and decided that a small break was in order. It was time to put aside my job and get to work on my silly chick. I decided during the day that I wanted to play a bit. It had been a long time since I had time and the inclination to indulge in a bit of fun with a prospective partner and I had plenty of both now. After getting over the initial shock, I realized that I could still bed him easily. I'd seen his eyes wander in my direction a few times and I was familiar with the speculation I'd seen in them. I could have just gone home, waited till he arrived, and cornered him. It would have only taken a few minutes to get him out of his clothes, and I'd have had him spread eagerly across a bed. I could've then spent the night feeling my fledgling arch, twist, beg and pant under me. He'd be delicious. And while the tight, anticipatory knot of pleasure in my belly urged me to do it, I held back. I could wait for awhile. It would be worth it too. To watch him wiggle, struggle, and finally submit would be nothing short of extended foreplay.

So I went home and took a shower. I waited until I heard him fumble for the door, turned off the shower, whipped a towel around my waist, and sauntered out to meet him, keeping an indifferent expression on my face. No use giving the game away during the first round.

He nearly had a coronary on the spot. He stood frozen in the doorway with his mouth gaping open and his eyes bulging from his sockets. I don't even think he was breathing. It was a far better reaction than I'd anticipated, but I pretended to ignore him walking over to my bed where I'd left a clean pair of pants.

“Close the door. You're letting in the cold.” I tossed over my shoulder as I scooped up my clothes.

He made a little choking noise and fumbled around a bit, but finally managed to get the door closed. While I finished dressing, my chick had disappeared behind the curtain around his bed. I watched the curtain tremble for a bit, laughing slightly to myself.

Can I help it if he's cute when he's flustered?

I wasn't ready to call it a night though, so I went over to the kitchen, which is in direct sight of his bed, even with his curtain. I dug around a few minutes for a meal and came up with toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. I would have liked to make my own soup, but vegetables were a rare commodity in Bone Village. I'd only seen a few wrinkled potatoes and some old, withered cobs of corn in the store.

He seemed to have recovered from his trauma, but his unsteady, quick breathing still showed my chick wasn't entirely calm. As I moved around making dinner, I occasionally glanced at him. His eyes were riveted on me. Every tiny gesture, every step of mine was being carefully watched with dark, confused, hungry eyes.

After a few minutes, he warily got up and eyed the sandwiches I was making. I set his food on the counter and I picked up my meal to sit by the fireplace to watch him. He picked up his plate and his bowl of soup and jittered nervously over to the table. I could tell he wasn't looking at me. He was working very, very hard at not looking at me in fact. I set my plate aside and began reading, watching him desperately focus on his food, the table, the sample, the floor, the window, and anything else, but me. He had just finished eating when I decided he needed a bit more attention.

“Aren't you going to say thank you?” I peered up at him over the edge of my book.

His brain stalled. He sat opening his mouth and closing it like a fish gasping for air with no sound coming out. For the first time in years, I wanted to start laughing till I couldn't breathe. My oh-so-intelligent chick was standing gaping at me while his eyes got wide and panicked and he turned bright red.

It took him awhile, but he finally managed a small squeaky, “Thank you.”

I let him go. I looked back down at my book, smothering my smile. “You're welcome.”

He bolted back to his curtain and hid. I stayed up awhile more, finishing my chapter and contemplating what I wanted to do to him next. I figured something along the lines of my walking in on him while he was showering. It would be easy to do, and with a nonchalant approach, would send him careening around the skull. Perhaps a comment about a bruise on his hip… I could easily arrange for the bruise to appear and when I stepped in on him, I could comment on it. If I managed to place it well, say on the front of the pelvic bone, I could even stand there eyeing his lower anatomy openly while making him engage in a serious conversation. Hmmm… I could even reach out and touch, purely out of concern. He was in my care after all and evaluating the seriousness of a bruise would only be part of my job.

The next morning my chick ran out of the house early, heading for trouble no doubt. I wrenched myself out of bed and stumbled into my clothes, cursing his sudden need to be an early riser. There were killers lurking around and he suddenly had the need to wake with his fellow chocobos. I shadowed him till he got to his friend Bettina's and invited himself to breakfast. I grumbled and stamped my feet in the cold, cursing Veld for not sending me some supplies. I just started to go roust Dmitri and go back to my comfortable bed, when I noticed Davies standing glaring at the door Hojo had just disappeared into. He caught me looking and with a slump, came over.

“You, too?” He nodded towards Bettina's door. “I heard you and him were a couple.”

That hadn't taken long, not that I had expected it would. “What do you think they're doing.” I hunched my shoulders as if upset.

“Talking, eating.” Davies looked at the door. “They used to do this nearly every morning when he lived here before.”

Hmmm. I hadn't known that. I'd gotten rid of Meg only to have a more dangerous opponent take her place. I shrugged it away. It was an easy enough fix. After all, the solution was standing in front of me radiating jealousy.

I gave a small snort, getting his attention. “I don't see a problem here. It should be easy enough to end this.” I nodded toward Bettina's place.

Davies gave a small shiver. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He glanced at me. “You get close to Bettina yet?”

I nodded.

“Then you see the problem.” He shook his head. “Damn, I love that woman, but that smell…”

I grinned. I knew my chick. If he wanted that woman, he'd find a way to get around that smell. Why not let him figure it out? Then I could step in, keep him busy, and Davies could reap the benefits.

Davies smiled when I shared my thoughts. “I'll owe you one. A big one.”

I liked that. We shook on it. I spent a couple more minutes looking at Bettina's door then decided it was time that I went to work. My chick was safe enough with Bettina. I headed for the store. Tomas and Keno were there looking over excavation maps and the notes that we took yesterday in our search for the harp. I got some coffee and one of those plastic encased pastries for breakfast before I spread more money around to more diggers and we all went off to blow up more turf. Gopher joined us around mid-day looking upset.

“Guys, anyone know what happened to the site maps for the northern pits?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, slumping. “Davies swears I had them last, but I left them on his desk. He's ready to skin me.”

I scratched my head, looking as lost and dumb as I could. “Maps? I dunno.”

Keno shook his head. “I haven't seen them, sorry.”

Tomas shrugged. “Me neither. Have you asked Banning? He was in the office yesterday. Maybe he saw them.”

Gopher shook his head, slumping more. “I already asked. He says the last time he saw them I had them.”

Keno, Tomas, and Gopher glanced back in the direction of the store. I took the time to slump against a nearby tree trying to look sleepy and lazy while I thought quickly. The northern pits would have to be the ones that the sample had originally been found in. They were also the pits that Nakami had been unceremoniously dumped into. But why would the maps be needed now? Unless there was something useful on the maps or something that wasn't meant to be seen. Then again, Gopher was not the brightest rodent of the pack; he could easily have lost them.

The three commiserated for a time. I pretended to nod off. The diggers fumbled around with highly dangerous explosive charges, and somewhere my chick was getting into trouble, probably with Bettina. I only could hope that his normally agile brain wouldn't short circuit until he figured out her fish problem. I would like to have Davies owe me a favor or two and while disposing of Bettina via large carnivorous lizard would be easy enough, I would rather her departure from Hojo's affections earn me more than a chocobo's heart broken wailing.

“Vincent, we're heading back. Can you look after things here?” Keno called as they headed down into the village. “We're going to look for those maps. It's important.”

I nodded, yawning slightly. “Sure. No problem.”

I watched them stride off then turned to the head digger. “Hey, if I give you double your usual pay, do you think you could find that harp thing?”

He eyed me over, weighing the thought of double pay for less work, against how much more money he'd be able to suck out of me. “No promises.”

“Triple.”

It was amazing how fast that harp appeared. The previously inept explosive experts set the charges quickly and efficiently and, low and behold, they located the harp. The diggers had it in my hands less than an hour after my money hit the head digger's palm. They all celebrated their financial windfall by heading toward the bar. I headed toward the store.

My favorite clerk was on duty again and he sighed tragically at me. “I'd get lost if I were you. Davies is putting everyone to work looking for some map or something.”

“Oh…umm… where's a good place to lay low?” I leaned a hip against the counter. “I can't go home right now.”

“Yeah, I heard.” The clerk gave me a leeringly sympathetic look. “Dumped for Bettina, huh? Want to come over to my place and talk it over.”

News travels fast. I made a note of that.

I gave him a sad look. “I don't think so…I'm just not in the mood.”

“Yeah. I had a girl dump me for another guy once. It sucked.” He reached out and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Come on over to my place. Forget about…”

“Uhmmm. Mr. Valentine?” Dmitri stood at the door. “I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering.”

I glanced over to him, “Hi.”

The clerk looked at Dmitri then back to me. “You know each other?”

“He lives across the street.” I glanced around as if checking for eavesdroppers.

The boys brain plunged directly into the gutter. I could see the speculation spin through what few brain cells he possessed as Dmitri walked over. He caught the same look and glanced at me, wondering if he should play along with the clerk's assumptions or not. I considered a moment, then turned to the clerk.

I did my best to look guilty, caught, and slightly defensive. “If Hojo can…” I leaned closer though. “But don't tell. I've got to stay with Hojo till the assignment ends. If he finds out…I'm back at the inn.”

Dmitri picked up on my act and looked around nervously. “It would be unfortunate for me as well. You know how gossip is.”

The clerk preened. “Hey, no problem. You're my friends and friends don't sell out friends.”

Every Turk cell in my body wanted to shriek in laughter over that cliché. I'd used it myself to con various morons into confiding their secrets to me. I didn't believe it when it came out of my mouth and I didn't believe it now. However, the clerk didn't need to know that. Indeed, I hoped he thought I believed him. It would be interesting to see if the chick found out and who he found out from. An attempt by someone to separate us, even with the mistaken information I'd planted, might give me a clue. I was sure the killer would prefer me away from the sample and Hojo, no matter how much of an inept slacker I was.

“Thanks.” I gave him a grateful look.

I went over to Dmitri and put an arm around his waist, steering him out. “Come on, you said you wanted to talk to me.”

He nodded and we headed outside. We separated instantly the moment we left the store.

“You know everyone in town will hear that by tomorrow.” He stated as we walked down the street.

I shrugged. “It will work. People probably have noticed that I've been at your house and that we talk. This gives them a solid explanation.”

He sighed. “Yes, I suppose it's for the best.” He wrinkled his nose. “I dislike people speculating on my personal life.”

For a Turk operative, he did have a habit of coming up with odd things to say. Still, I could understand that one too. As a Turk, I found it grating to have people intrude on my life. I spent all my time prying into other people's lives and wrecking them. I knew the damage it could cause.

“What did you want to see me about?” I glanced around, watching a few diggers stagger up the street singing drunkenly.

“The missing maps.” He sidestepped as the diggers swayed past. “I have copies which you might be interested in. They show not just the pits, but interestingly enough, some of the village, including Hojo's house.”

I didn't like that.

He caught my frown. “Sorry, sorry. I didn't even realize until I checked my copies.”

I brushed it away. “Get me the maps tomorrow. I want to see what the perp is seeing.”

We parted ways in front of our houses and I went in to find my chick humming around making tea and looking very happy with himself. A small pile of fresh food was sitting on the counter and it seemed hopeful that a real meal might be in the offering. Not wanting to get in the way of real food appearing on the table, I settled on my cot and cleaned the harp. I was just contemplating my long list of suspects when Bettina arrived.

Hojo greeted her and bustled her quickly to the stove. Davies forgot to mention that Bettina was a talented cook. By the time she finished preparing our meal, I was wondering if, when Bettina's odor problem was solved, I could have her. I'd never had a toy that could cook before. Visions of lovely meals danced happily through my head as we sat down and ate. Hojo took over the conversation, leaving me to listen, eat, and make a few polite responses.

Midway through the meal, my fledgling started shifting the conversation to how his skin was drying out in the cold climate. I was amused by his not so subtle maneuvering till I noticed that Bettina had odd scratches on her arm. They were defensive marks made by raising your arms to protect yourself from a blow. I'd seen them often enough to recognize them. I wondered where she'd gotten them. They continued to prattle on about skin moisturizers, which gave me the information I needed to put Davies in my debt, so I excused myself and went to sit by the fire to give them a bit of privacy.

I had changed my plans for my chick during the night and the next morning, while he was still tucked in bed sleeping, I made a few quick adjustments to the controls of the heater then I grabbed my harp, quickly left, and went off to speak to Davies. He was thrilled to know the solution to his problem, and even happier when I pulled a few strings and got a shipment sent by next-day mail. In return, I got him to do a few favors for me. I was quite pleased by the time Keno, Tomas, Banning, and Gopher came into the store for their morning cup of coffee. I greeted them by showing them my harp.

“Great!” Keno slapped me on the back. “Let's get going.”

I nodded, “Uh, I've got a question.” I looked around at my friend's faces. “Has anyone ever been there before?”

“Sure. A group managed to get to the city a few years back.” Banning grinned, patting his coat pocket. “We've got their map.”

Not quite what I had hoped for. I'd half hoped that someone would confess that they'd been there recently. I followed them along to the entrance to the forest. We all looked at each other when we realized that someone would have to play the harp.

“What song?” Keno frowned confused. “Is there a song.”

“Nope.” Banning was consulting the map that had some notes in the margins. “No mention of a song.”

“Anyone play?” Tomas asked hopefully.

We all shook our heads. Musical lessons had been part of my childhood, but I'd deliberately avoided them since. It had been my father's idea anyway, just one more thing that my mother had to deal with. I'd despised them. I hated the old, fat man who came to the house to teach me piano. I hated the way he'd order my mother around like a servant then leered at her when her back was turned. I hated how my father would come home and order me to show him what I had learned, only to turn and yell at my mother when I hadn't learned anything noteworthy. As far as my father was concerned, I was a prodigy and it was only my mother's laziness and stupidity that held me back. The fact that my schooling was sporadic at best because of his need to continually find me newer, better tutors and his changes of educational philosophy never entered his mind.

I was elected, since I had the harp, to be the one to play it and go first. I suppose my having a gun also provided an extra incentive for me to be the first one in. I didn't bother trying to play the thing. I just strummed random strings as I walked through the cavern opening and found myself standing in a pleasant forest.

It was one of the nicest forests I'd ever been in. I wanted to reach out and stroke the trees, settle myself down between the roots and listen to the leaves whisper secrets over my head, press my face against the trunks and breathe in the scent of tranquility. This was the dangerous forest? This was the place that you would die if you didn't have a Lunar Harp? Impossible. This place was the safest place I'd ever been in.

I could hear Gopher bumbling around, yelping about getting his pack stuck in the cavern, so I stopped my aimless strumming and went over to touch a tree. If felt smooth and warm against my fingers. The wind rustled the leaves over my head, making them sound like they were laughing softly. I walked over to another and reached up tugging a branch down so I could look at the leaves. They were a gentle, springtime green. Each leaf shaped like an arrowhead with sculpted edges. I let the branch go, not wanting to harm the tree and went off to look around a bit more.

“Hey, Vincent, where are you?” Gopher yelled nervously from the entrance.

I could hear the trees growl. The atmosphere changed, becoming heavy and threatening. I didn't feel as if I was the target of their sudden anger. Gopher and the others were. I quickly started strumming the harp.

“Over here.” I strode back quickly. “I was just looking around while I waited.”

The others looked nervously at the trees.

“Keep together.” Banning started walking forward. “And keep playing. I don't trust those trees.”

From what I felt coming from the trees, the feeling was reciprocated. While the harp soothed the trees, they still radiated anger at the intrusion. The others hurried through quickly and I had to jog slightly to keep up with them. I don't know if they could feel the trees irritation, but the others certainly didn't waste any time leaving them behind.

We finally reached a place of blasted trees and grey sand, the same sand that was found under the prospector's fingernails.

“What happened here?” Gopher looked around poking at the blasted, weathered remains of a huge tree trunk.

Banning shrugged. “Who knows. Look, steps.”

The others crowded around the worn, half buried steps that seemed to come out of the forest. I bent down to look at them, paying closer attention to my colleagues than the wonder of old rocks in dirt. Keno seemed fascinated, as did Gopher. Tomas seemed more interested in the forest behind us, eyeing it suspiciously. Banning seemed more interested in the path ahead of us, looking over his shoulder now and again.

“Wow.” Gopher ran his hand over the stone step, feeling the indentation of thousands of years of feet stepping on the rock. “This is amazing. Should we take a sample back?”

“I don't feel like lugging a rock around.” Banning straightened. “We can pick up a sample when we return.”

Tomas nodded casting one more look at the forest before turning away from it. “Okay. Let's get going.”

I was still idly strumming the harp, and my fingers were starting to hurt a bit. “Uhhh, can I stop playing now?”

“Sure.” Banning turned and headed into the blasted area. “We don't need it now.”

Really? Now, how did he know that? I stopped playing and followed along as everyone else trailed after Banning. Is that information on the map? Are there other sources of information? A book? Perhaps samples from a previous expedition?

The attack came out of what seemed to be nowhere. There was an odd shimmer, like light bending through waves and then there were monsters in front of us. They looked, oddly enough like some kind of seahorse. I grabbed Quicksilver and Keno gave a yell, grabbing for a young, fire materia in his pocket.

The fire materia worked, the gun's ammunition bounced harmlessly off the monster's scaly skin. With only Keno's low level materia for cover, we went scampering back as a wave of what looked liked kicked up leaves blew towards us.

The forest seemed pleasant compared to the seahorses as we scampered back through its greenery. I quickly started strumming random strings on the harp, hoping the trees wouldn't mind my lack of musical talent while running for my life.

“Wasn't there anything about sea creatures?” Tomas panted as we ran through the trees. “Or monsters or something?”

“Nope.” Banning skidded to a halt. “Just said sand and trees.”

Gopher bolted into the cavern back to Bone Village. “Great. Wonderful map. I'm getting some materia.”

We all crowded in, glancing hastily behind us. The seahorses didn't seem to want to chance the forest, staying in a silent shimmer at the tree's boundries.

I admit, I didn't do everything I could to ensure the success of the archaeological expedition. Even as the others scattered through the village, I only ambled over to the store and picked up a few potions and spells. I could, I suppose have called Veld, yelled at him for not sending me my things, and gotten a few mastered materia on the next helicopter. But I wanted to see what the others would come up with. So far, no one seemed to stand out as a suspect. Banning was a bit suspicious, but then he was also the one who had the map and had done most of the preliminary research. Gopher was an idiot, but it doesn't really take brains to kill. Keno and Tomas were likeable, but so were some of the most psychotic killers I'd met as a Turk.

I lurked around lazily, considered going back to the skull to check on my chick then shrugged it away. Dmitri was keeping an eye on him. I needed to keep an eye on the archaeologists. That sand had gotten under those fingernails somehow. I poked my head into Davies' office, looking for a few answers.

“Valentine.” He looked up at me smiling. “Enjoy the city?”

“Not yet.” I shrugged and stepped into the office. “We found some monsters we have to deal with.”

He nodded.

“Do you know if there are any notes or maps that might tell us more about the area around the city?” I tipped my head hopefully. “I hate getting chased around by seahorse monsters.”

“I don't know.” He looked away thoughtfully. “I'll ask around though, see if anyone has anything.”

I nodded and the others called for me to join them. I sauntered lazily back to them and we retraced our steps. With new materia we managed to get through the seahorses alright. I used most of my potions keeping myself and the others on our feet, but it wasn't too bad of a battle. The small monster that we found lurking near the stairs going down barely took a moment as Banning tossed a spell that incinerated the thing in seconds.

“Look at that.” Keno stood on the top of the stairs looking down at the city spread out below us. “Amazing.”

Banning shrugged. “Let's go look.”

We climbed quickly down. The path we walked seemed made out of plates of some kind of shell. The houses we saw in the distance, which got clearer as we got closer, also seemed made of shell. Everything had a soft tranquil air to it. I could feel myself start relaxing even as we came down the cliff face and started into the city.

“How did they do that?” Tomas cautiously walked up to a shell, touching it. “It's not natural…is it?”

Banning shrugged. “Don't know. Get a sample and we'll analyze it later. I want to see the rest of the city.”

He walked off, deeper into the city. He seemed intent on looking for something. The others stood for a moment, gawking at the houses and the shell paths. When Banning disappeared around a corner, they startled, as if waking up.

“Hey! Wait up!” Gopher chased after him with Tomas and Keno on his heels. “There might be monsters.”

I stood and watched them go. Part of me was urging me to go after them, to watch to see if one of them betrayed themselves. It was my duty, I scolded myself. But I couldn't get the rest of my mind to agree. Most of me wanted to go wander off, to look at the houses in more detail, to imagine what the city once looked like when the Ancients were there to tend it, to walk through the buildings listening for voices that hadn't spoken for thousands of years.

I could see the city in my mind's eye. There would have been trees, tall and graceful, reaching up to the sky and waving in the wind. Flowers and small plants would have been scattered like colorful scarves around the buildings. People would have flowed through the streets smiling, peaceful and serene in their lives, a vast contrast to Midgar's dead, dull, frightened cityscape. I wondered how long it would take to restore the city.

I was just wandering over to one of the larger gardens when my musings were interrupted.

“Vincent! Hey, come see this.” Keno was waving for me in the distance. “It's a lake.”

A lake? Part of me just nodded, of course there would be a lake. Earth, air, fire, water, each in perfect harmony and balance. I walked calmly over, feeling unsurprised as I noticed the large lake spanning around one of the larger shell buildings. The bridge across the lake was worn with broken railings and sprung boards, but the lake itself was tranquil and delicately beautiful.

“Hey, look!” Gopher was nearly bouncing in joy. “This has got to be an important building. Just look at how big it is.”

Banning was already walking into it, “Come on. Let's go see.”

We followed him in. It was pretty enough inside and surprisingly well lit. The Ancients had left the lights on and they still worked.

“Look! A goldfish.” Keno yelled from up the spiral stairs he'd sprinted up following Banning. “It's some kind of moving picture or something. Come look.”

Gopher and Tomas raced after him. Oddly, I wasn't curious. The building was nice enough, but I preferred the gardens and the lake. I felt claustrophobic standing in that building when the whole city was spread out around me. I followed my inclinations and returned to looking at the gardens, even the tiniest of voices scolding me for my lack of dedication and duty silenced.

It was starting to get late when the others came looking for me. I was sitting inspecting a handful of seeds I'd found nestled in a small shell like jar against one of the buildings. From the nearly microscopic size, I was guessing they were seeds from herbs or flowers and I was considering just what would happen if I sprinkled a few around the garden whose wall I was sitting one. When the others yelled a greeting, I poured them back into the shell and hid it behind the rock and shell wall.

“Time to go.” Banning nodded towards where the sun was settling lower in the sky. “We'll come back another day.”

I nodded, “Sounds good.”

Actually, it sounded horrid. I wanted to stay, but I'd spent the entire afternoon goofing off with dirt, seeds, and daydreams. I couldn't complain when duty called in the form of my suspects. I promised myself I'd come back. Maybe I'd bring my chick. He'd like it here. He could race around knocking his beak and knees into everything and chirp with excitement at every new discovery.

We climbed back out of the city with little problems. Keno and Tomas were comparing shell samples. Gopher was chattering nonstop about the lighting system and the wonder of the giant goldfish. Banning was stoically enduring the chattering with only an occasional wince when Gopher would get too excited. I brought up the rear, contemplating seeds, gardens, and how dangerous letting a chocobo hatchling loose in the city would be…to the city.

I had just come to the conclusion that the city would probably survive when we came to the blasted area. Lifeless gray sand and shattered trees loomed ghostlike around as we walked through.

“There has to be some power source.” Gopher was saying for the twentieth time. “I heard one of the brains down south came up with a solar power panel. It could be…”

A shimmer between us and the forest alerted me to danger.

“Seahorses!” I pushed through Keno and Tomas's sample party and brushed Gopher to the side. “Get the materia ready.” I drew my gun and started to buy the others time.

“But we…” Gopher squeaked.

“Out of ether.” Tomas clarified. “How are the potions and spells.”

“Used most of them getting in here.” Banning was riffling through his pockets as I got a few shots in at the creature's eyes.

“Run?” Gopher eyed the forest.

“We'd have to go through them.” Keno inspected his copper bangle. “I can do a bit of magic, not much though.”

I nodded then ducked as a wave of leaves cut through us. Gopher went down bleeding. Banning staggered back. Tomas and Keno, who were still in the back only got a few scrapes.

Keno cast a fire and Banning grabbed Gopher.

“Can we distract them?” Banning yelled as another drift of leaves came our way.

We all jumped back, hiding behind a tree stump.

“Cast a spell and a couple of us run. They'll be too busy, hopefully, to stop us.” Banning panted, popping open a potion and pouring it down Gopher's throat, causing him to choke and sit up.

“Who's last?” Tomas eyed me and Keno.

“I've got the magic. I'll go last.” Keno grimaced.

I wasn't going to argue. If they'd been Turks, I would have suggested that I stay last and provide cover, then Veld could cover me as I took my turn getting out of the danger area. They were not Turks, however, and I wasn't going to let myself be put into the position of being left to the monsters while the killer scampered merrily off, relieved of a useless Turk.

“I've got the harp.” I pulled it out. “The seahorses didn't go into the forest last time. I'll go first and wait in the forest. When Keno gets the rest of you out, I can cover him as he runs.”

Keno looked a bit happier with a plan in place to save his ass. The others just nodded. I shuffled to the edge of the stump and peered around it. The seahorses were floating around looking in our direction. I nodded and Keno poked his head over the top and cast fire.

Gopher and I ran as the spell blasted through the clearing. The seahorses were less than impressed and instantly sent a wave of leaves racing after us.

“Shitshitshitshit.” Gopher yelled diving for the ground.

I felt the leaves rip into me and I fell into the arms of the forest, pain spreading through my back. In my mind, I could hear the outrage of the trees.

Bad.

Corrupt ones.

They know better.

Gopher scampered up. “Vincent!” He rolled me over and poured a potion in my mouth. “Start playing the harp Vincent.”

They should protect.

Corrupt.

I barely got up when he shoved the harp in my hands. My head still reeled from the sudden pain and its departure. I held the harp and started plinking strings. The trees quieted, comforted.

Banning and Tomas raced through as Keno threw another fire spell. As the seahorses rounded on the two, I paused in my harping and took a few shots, keeping the monsters back. Keno ducked behind the stump and Banning and Tomas raced to our side.

I started playing the harp again as Keno sidled around the stump and peered toward us. I nodded back and he took a deep breath. He lifted his arm and the glitter of the spell surrounded him. He sent the spell and ran. I dropped the harp and started shooting as the seahorses swirled to attack. He reached the edge of the forest as the seahorses released their attack.

Corrupt.

Wrong.

The trees shifted, their leaves hissing together angrily. A counter attack of soft green leaves raced to meet the sharp brown leaves of the seahorses and cut through. The seahorses flickered a moment, then were caught in the green shower and were shredded.

“Wow. No one said the trees could do that.” Gopher breathed.

I picked up the harp and started plucking strings. The forest settled around me. The others took deep breaths and headed for the cavern.

“Oh, Planet.” Keno was shaking. “Count me out of the expeditions in the future.”

Tomas nodded. “Me too. Too much excitement.”

“Getting old?” Gopher snickered.

I grinned. “What's life without a bit of excitement.”

“Only with the ladies.” Keno grinned.

“No excitement for you then.” Banning laughed.

We made our way through town, teasing the two. As we passed the skull house, I wondered if I could get Hojo to come out with us. Gopher was heading towards the bar and Keno was at his heels. I glanced over as we passed, feeling like a teenager about to ask a girl out. Was my hair okay? Did I look good?

I was covered in mud, leaves, dirt, and blood. If it had been Veld, I would have hauled him out of the house and listened to him gripe and bitch all the way to the bar. If it had been one of my toys, I would have opened the door, leaned in, and called out an order to get themselves ready and out of the house in five minutes. But my naive, innocent fledgling? He'd handle the bar. I'd seen him in enough of them while I'd babysat him a year ago. He would probably get tipsy drunk and end up singing on top of a table. He might handle the company. He seemed to have an aversion to diggers, but he'd fit right in with the archaeologists and their semi-scientific drunken rambling. It was me that he'd object to. A blood spattered Turk. He'd run squawking around in circles if I appeared at the door and asked him to go out to a bar. He'd flop over with his wings fluttering and legs kicking in the air if I told him I was keeping an eye on them because one seemed to be shaping up into a mass murderer.

We spent a few hours in the bar. Banning and Tomas left early to go catalog their finds and return various maps, tools, and weapons to their respective places, leaving Gopher, Keno and I to drink and rehash our day. It was mindlessly dull. I learned only that Tomas and Banning got into a fight over the meaning of some hieroglyphics that had been etched on a floor, and that Keno had a fear of spiders. Since neither was riveting, I slumped in my seat smiling a far drunker smile than I felt and listened to the chatter.

When Keno finally slumped over and started snoring on the table, I blinked slowly at him as if I was only partially able to comprehend someone sleeping in a bar. Gopher snickered, leaning back in his chair and tossing his head back while humming something off key. I got to my feet, counted the day as a bust, and turned to go home and play with my chick. By now, he'd have found out to the adjustments I'd made to the heater and I could have a bit of fun. After all, a hot room demanded less clothing. If he thought me stepping out of the shower had been interesting, he'd love what I had planned next.

I smirked happily as I walked home. Snow was falling in a soft drift around me and people were scuttling through the twilight streets, eager to be someplace warm and dry. I was half way down the street when the counter clerk from the store ran up to me.

“Ah…uh… you…” He stuttered as he caught his breath.

“What?” I arched a lazy eyebrow at him.

“There's been an accident.” He finally blurted out.

My chick.

A shaft of panicky anger shot down my spine and curled into my stomach. I wasted the morning shirking my responsibilities and musing about plants, the afternoon drinking and watching Keno and Gopher get plastered, and someone had used the opportunity to hurt my silly, defenseless hatchling. I wanted to kill someone, preferably the killer. As soon as I was done, I wanted to kill myself for being such a fool. I should have been here. I should have kept better track of him. I should have watched over him myself and made Dmitri do the leg work. He could have sat in that bar and listened just as well as I could. I should have called Veld and had him send a couple more Turks up here to provide security. I should have…

“Dmitri's hurt bad.” The clerk looked up the street. “He's at his house. They just took him there.”

Dmitri? I took a deep breath feeling a traitorous rush of relief. It hadn't been my chick.

“When? When did this happen?” I glanced around the snowy street.

“Just a few minutes ago. He was sitting in front of his house examining one of the findings when one of the diggers set off a charge. It knocked down a section of the cliff face and some of the rubble hit him. The doctor…”

I looked up at the cliff that hung over the village. It wasn't much, about 15 meters tall, but it was composed of large rocks and bone fragments from the creatures whose skulls everyone lived in. I tried to calculate the amount of force it would take to propel one of those rocks, or a lot of those rocks down to the area of Dmitri's house. It would have had to be a hell of a blast. To make even a single rock travel that distance from such a low cliff face, it would have had to leave a huge blast crater. And I didn't see one.

I jogged quickly up the street looking at Dmitri's house. The snow was still falling so it might still retain some evidence. It was getting dark, but a table with some bone and rock samples could still be clearly seen sitting next to the door. An overturned chair lay next to it with a couple of large, muddy rocks scattered around. Interestingly, there were no rocks, mud sprays, or detritus anywhere else. If it had been the fallout from an explosion, it had only fallen on Dmitri.

“Damn.” By now the killer would have put as much distance as possible between himself and this area and tomorrow all the evidence would be old. “Damn.”

I scouted the area in front of the house, but the snow was muddled with footprints, probably from the people to respond to Dmitri's attack. I quickly looked across the street and saw my chick sitting at the table reading. At least I didn't have to worry about him. I checked up and down the street, but only saw a couple of people hurrying into their houses out of the snow.

I looked at the rocks, trying to figure out how they had gotten there. It wasn't the most brilliant attack I had seen, but considering that Dmitri was down and the attacker was still on the loose, I couldn't fault it too much. The best vantage for rock dumping would have been from above. I jogged around the house peering at the snow covered ground, hoping the failing light would be enough to spot footprints.

I didn't see anything, but something in the corner of my vision caught my attention. Something moved against the darkening sky. I moved to a better angle, looking up at Dmitri's roof. Someone was laying flat on the roof. I couldn't see them clearly, but they seemed to have their ear pressed down on the skull, as if listening to what was happening below.

I edged around, trying to keep silent while looking for the ladder or something else the shadow person might used to climb up there. I wanted to be there when they came down. I had just rounded towards the back of the skull when the clerk had to decide to be helpful.

“Hey, Vincent! Vincent! Dmitri's waking up!” He yelled down the alley.

The shadow jerked. I cursed as the figure slid off the skull. I ran around to that side, drawing my gun, and heard steps running across the street…toward Hojo. I raced after, glancing toward where my chick was still sitting placidly reading his book. I caught a glimpse of the shadow dart into the excavation field. I ran faster but skidded to a halt as a pit loomed up out of the gloom.

There were more running steps to the right and I headed as quickly as I dared toward them. I leapt over small trenches, stumbled over slender strings that bracketed future dig sites, sloshed into stagnant puddles of freezing slush, and slipped in the mud. The only satisfaction I had was when the shadow tripped and fell with a small, half muffled cry of pain.

A man. The shadow had a man's voice.

I jogged as quickly as I could to the spot, but the shadow had disappeared. I stopped and listened. Silence pressed down around me. Nothing moved. I was in a field of hiding spots and I didn't have a flashlight, not that it would have done anything but make me an easier target. I scouted around, snarling softly to myself, and hoping that the shadow didn't have any weapons.

I gave up after searching for a few more minutes. I could hear Veld's voice taunting me about painting a target on my chest and yelling free target practice. I made a note of the place the shadow fell and returned to Dmitri's house. I'd look over the area tomorrow and hopefully find something useful. With any luck the mud would freeze and I'd get a foot print or maybe even a hand print.

As I made my way back, I paused a moment to look in at Hojo. He was now puttering around, doing his bedtime routine. I watched him go into the bathroom, where I knew he brushed his teeth and combed his hair then he came back out and got a glass of water. He looked around a moment and turned off the lights. I knew he'd go over to his bed and change into an old tee shirt and a baggy pair of flannel shorts. He'd then burry himself under his blankets and pillows…or maybe not. I wondered just how hot it was in there now, considering the small modifications I'd done to the heater. I grinned to myself, considering the fun I'd have with that heater.

When I was certain my hatchling was tucked away for the night, I went into Dmitri's house. The doctor was still there. He was a young man, probably from the south since he looked fresh, unweathered, and moderately well groomed. He was sitting next to Dmitri's bed.

“How is he?” I walked softly over.

The doctor looked up, looking me over carefully. “You're Vincent.” He stared a moment more. “I heard you were… dating.”

I shrugged. So much for not ratting out your buddies. “Is he going to be okay?”

He nodded. “Yes, he took a bad blow to the head, but nothing a few potions couldn't fix. But he needs someone to keep an eye on him till he wakes up.”

“I'll stay.” I looked around for a chair, but the doctor stood up.

“Good. I've got to get back.” He stepped around the tables and headed for the door. “Call me if anything happens. I'll come by in the morning to check.”

He left and I took his seat and positioned it so I could keep an eye on Dmitri and Hojo's front door. After spending a few vigils at the side of various people, I can say one thing. They are dull. Usually when called to a hospital because Veld, or another friend got themselves hurt, I'd bring something to keep me busy: a book, a game, a magazine, once I brought a “Learn it Yourself” tape on speaking Wutaian. I didn't learn anything useful, but it kept me busy. Now I had nothing, so I spent my time looking around Dmitri's home (bones, rocks, bones, dirt, bones, soil samples, more bones), watching the house across the street (dark, untouched, dull) and fantasizing about what I was going to do to my chick once I got his clothes off him.

It was very early in the morning when I noticed lights flickering across the street. A soft dance of flames ghosted against the windows. I hadn't seen anyone go in, but I wanted to be sure. I checked Dmitri, who was still unconscious and then went over to investigate. Who knew, the silly hatchling might have set the skull on fire during a midnight need to feed his tea addiction.

When I opened the door, I noticed that the house felt like a freezer. He was sitting in a bundle of blankets next to the fire.

“Something wrong?” I asked as I brushed off some of the snow that had dusted down onto my shoulders.

The heater was still there, but it was giving no heat. The silly chick had turned it off and probably forgot to start a fire to keep the place warm. I was half surprised though that his pile of pillows and blankets hadn't kept him warm.

“The heater's malfunctioning.” He tried glaring at it, but this early in the morning the glare came out as a pout.

“Hmmm.” I looked around the room, noting the sample was still sitting on its doily. “That's a problem.”

Actually, it wasn't. It just meant that I had to switch plans. The comment from my fellow guest at the inn came to mind. Sharing body heat, and if I was going to share that, I could easily get him to share a few other things. I suppressed my grin and looked as blankly efficient as possible.

“I'll get another tomorrow.” He hunkered down in his blankets, looking like a chocobo fluffing its feathers out.

“Okay.” I stepped back. I'd play with my chick after Dmitri woke up. “I'll be over at Dmitri's.”

The pout became more definite. “Fine, fine.” He went towards his bed looking sulky. “Take the sample. No point letting it freeze.”

I wasn't going to argue. If I had the sample, I would have one less thing to worry over. I scooped it off the table and left him to grumble wordlessly to himself.

Poor grumpy chick.

I went back to Dmitri's, put the sample on a far table, and settled myself back in my chair. I'd have to talk to Davies in the morning about the heater. I couldn't very well convince my chick to share body heat if his heater got repaired. Maybe after I had a few nights of playing with my chick, the heater would suddenly start working again. Or maybe I could get Davies to lock the controls permanently into high. I still liked some of the ideas that I'd made for having a too hot house. I'd looked forward to some of those.

I also had to make arrangements for my chick to have babysitters for the afternoon. With Dmitri down and me having to investigate the attack, I'd need some way to make sure the killer or attacker didn't decided to relocate another scientist to the lifestream.

The next morning, Davies arrived at Dmitri's before the sun even rose. I was still sitting watching my operative and my fledgling and feeling stiff and groggy. The large cup of coffee that Davies brought with him and set down next to me made me think that Bone Village was the other name for the Promised Land of legends. I eagerly grabbed it and started guzzling it down, not caring if it was spiked with poison, hallucinogenics, or cancer causing sweeteners. Happily it wasn't.

“How's he doing?” Davies looked over Dmitri's still form.

“Still sleeping.” I had to pull myself away from the wonder of caffeine to answer. “But he's getting restless.”

Davies nodded. “Okay, I'll send Cooper by with some food later. Bettina's making some casserole or something.”

“Cooper?” I wobbled tiredly to my feet. My back creaked in protest.

“The kid at the counter.” Davies shrugged. “I'll send him by with lunch.”

“Oh.” Some Turk I was, I hadn't even gotten the kid's name. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” Davies turned to go.

“Wait. Can you arrange something for me?” I took a fortifying gulp of coffee and set it down on a table. “When Hojo comes in, don't let him have a new heater. If he tries to get his fixed, make sure it's fixed to only put out maximum heat.”

Davies arched an eyebrow, a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth. “Can I ask why?”

I shrugged. “Prank war.

He grinned. “Whatever gets you through the winter.”

He waved as he left and I settled back in my chair to drink my coffee. A few hours after dawn, the doctor came back and brought with him his nurse, a shriveled, desiccated person of undeterminable gender, who looked like he, she, or it had once scolded those young, upstart Ancients about not respecting their elders. While they examined Dmitri, I went down to the store to arrange my chick's day.

The head digger, who was standing in line in front of me for the holy substance of coffee was happy to have another set of hands. It only cost me a promise to take him to the Ancient's city. Tomas and Banning, arriving in line behind me, welcomed him to our party with a few pleased comments and they all started chattering archaeological babble.

I tuned out. For all outward appearances, I was still paying attention, but my mind was racing. Banning was limping. I'd spotted it when he came in. It wasn't a heavy limp, but it was enough for me to notice. I could still clearly hear the shadow from last night falling and gasping in pain. There was a good possibility that whoever the shadow was, they'd hurt themselves. Add to that, Banning had left the bar early. Gopher and Keno had stayed, but he'd left with Tomas early. He'd have had more than enough time to gather rocks, climb onto Dmitri's roof and wait till a detonation occurred to drop them on Dmitri's head.

Still, the line of thought was nothing more than suppositions. It had snowed yesterday and I'd guess that more than a few people slipped in the icy streets. Actually, considering the excitement of yesterday, it would be startling if one or more of them didn't show some scrapes, bruises, or sprains. Still, it was something to think about.

Cooper finally bestowed the blessing of coffee on me and I ambled lazily over to wait for Banning and Tomas. Gopher dragged himself in looking rumpled and miserable, but there was no sign of Keno. I pondered whether Keno's absence was a good thing or not, then shrugged it away. He was low on my suspect list and with Banning's continued rise to the number one position, I was willing to let him go.

“Hey, Vincent! You up to another try today?” Gopher joined up with Tomas, Banning and the head digger, who had the unfortunate luck of being named Horance, came up with him.

Banning pulled a fire materia out of his pocket. “I traded a promising dig site for a third level fire materia.” He spun the orb in his fingers. “This should take care of those monsters.”

I nodded and sipped my coffee. “Sounds good, but I have to stay with Dmitri. He got hurt last night.”

“I heard about that.” Tomas shook his head. “Bad luck.”

Gopher shifted a bit, looking nervous. “It's odd. I went by this morning and it sure didn't look like rubble from an explosion.”

I shrugged, yawning and radiating ineptitude. “There was some kid up on Dmitri's roof. It was probably just a prank that went bad. I chased him off.”

Banning shook his head. “Kids…”

“Betcha it was one of the prospector's brats.” Tomas growled. “We've had nothing but trouble since they came up here.”

Banning sipped his coffee. “Come on Vincent. I'm sure we can get Bettina to watch Dmitri. We could use your skills.”

The paranoid part of me wondered why he wanted me along so bad. Still, my prime suspect was going to be in the Ancient's city, Hojo was going to be entertained by the diggers all day, and while sitting Dmitri would solidify the fiction of our romance, watching him sleep all day wouldn't get me any closer to finding who attacked him.

“Well…” I paused, looking like I was trying to think and having a hard time of it. “Okay…sure.”

“Great.” Tomas slapped me companionably on the back. “See you in a half hour at the cavern.”

Banning grinned. “Remember the harp.”

Twenty five minutes later, Bettina was puttering around Dmitri's kitchen, my fledgling, informed that he couldn't get a new heater, was off playing in the mud, the sample was tucked safely away in Davies' safe, and I was leaning against a wall near the entrance to the forest radiating laziness, carelessness, and that particular stupidity that only dedicated slackers have. As Banning and Gopher approached, I could see the deep sigh they took as if straining for patience.

Horance and Tomas appeared a few minutes later and we went off to the city. It was the dullest day I'd endured in months, topping even a seemingly endless day of listening to President Shinra monotonously practice his speech for the annual budget review luncheon. The monsters were busy feeding on some kind of plant and barely took note of our passing. There was another monster by the path going down, but Banning fried it in seconds. I refused to get pulled back into my gardening fugue and trailed after Banning, who spent the day rooting around looking at what seemed to be pottery shards.

By the time we trudged back to the village that evening, I was ready to do anything…anything for a bit of entertainment. And wasn't it fortunate that I had a chick waiting at home to keep me busy. I checked in with Dmitri, and found out from Bettina he'd regained consciousness that afternoon. He had fallen asleep again, so she was still watching over him.

“Thanks.” I peered blearily around, not entirely pretending to be exhausted. “Can you stay with him?”

“Sure.” She gave me a small pat on the back. “You look tired. Go home and rest.”

I made a brief show of concern about Dmitri, bending over him and touching his hair then I happily tumbled across the street and opened the door. A blast of warm air struck me. The heater was working wonderfully. My chick was already sprawled, half naked in bed, and the whole dull day suddenly looked a lot more interesting.

“Hot in here.” I frowned, looking at the heater as if it was a huge and unpleasant surprise to me that it was malfunctioning.

Hojo mumbled something into one of his pillows as I went over to give the heater an outraged look. I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it over a chair. I turned toward my bed, hiding my smirk. This was going to be fun.

Back in the days when I had just joined the Turks, Veld and I had been assigned one of those lovely assignments that only rookies get. The kind that the experienced Turks would suddenly absent themselves from the area or hastily acquire a mountain of unfinished, highly important paperwork they had to get finished. As the new kids, Veld and I had been hauled in, smirked at, and told of our unbelievable luck. We were assigned to look into a male prostitution ring that was branching out into blackmailing Shinra executives.

The ring worked out of a gay club in one of Junon's less upstanding neighborhoods. Veld and I had to get in, work for the ring, pick out the ones responsible, and end the operation. The proprietors drooled as Veld and I walked into the club. After the crack whores and street corner boys, the two of us -pretending to be fresh from the hinterlands of Kalm looking for “the fast life”- must have looked damn good. We were hired with no experience and the promise that we'd be trained. Veld got training as a waiter and had to wear a tiny speedo and a bow tie while delivering drinks and being groped by drunks. I got trained as a dancer and spent my time writhing around on the stage. By the end of the first week, I'd learned the moves and had even acquired a following. The club owners were thrilled, but only until Veld overheard them planning on videotaping an executive and putting pressure on him to fund a new club. They all disappeared that night into Junon's harbor and Veld and I made a small pact about never speaking of that assignment. I sometimes wonder if Veld really overheard that conversation or if he chose the most likely suspects before we had to take our performance to private rooms.

While I hadn't made much use of that knowledge, I made use of it now and, peeking over my shoulder to make sure my chick was paying attention, put on a show. The shirt is always a good start. I unbuttoned it slowly, letting my chick imagine his fingers playing with the buttons. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as his eyes fastened themselves to my hands, then, as I pulled the shirt over my head, widened. My mentor had told me over and over that getting the audience's attention was the easy part, few people could easily ignore a naked person. The trick he said was to get them to get involved, to put their imaginations to use for you. My chick seemed to be paying attention. He even looked a bit disappointed that I had an undershirt on, but when I slowly pulled that off, he looked far more pleased.

I took a brief pause, letting him look at me. This was a technique that had always worked well at the club. A momentary pause, combing my fingers through my hair and letting my audience imagine what it would be like to do that, perhaps he'd come up with a few quick fantasies about how it would feel to slide his fingers through, how silky it would feel as I arched and purred under him, naked and wanting.

I sat down and took off my shoes and socks. Letting those images wander around in my hatchling's head, then deliberately made a feline stretch and a yawn, letting him consider what it would be like to be in my bed as I undressed to sleep and maybe, perhaps, do other things. His breath hitched softly and his eyes got rounder.

He was such a smart chick. I'd have to reward him later.

I stood up and started on the pants. The belt came first, sliding sinuously between my fingers, letting him notice the way I stroked over the soft surface, letting him consider what it would be like to have my fingers stroke other things. I gave my hips a small rotation, as if working out a kink from my back and then looked directly at him as I started unbuttoning my pants. He froze, his eyes wide, wanting, and startled, but he wasn't moving, pretending to be asleep. I shimmied out of my pants and he made a small whimpering noise. I grinned to myself, yawned and stretched again, this time a full body stretch, letting him see what I looked like, letting his quick mind think about what it would be like to feel me stretch against him.

He still didn't seem inclined to get up and play though, so I went over to the kitchen to do a small show of bending and posing as I searched for provocative food to entertain him with. All I could find was half of a sandwich, hardly sexy, but since it was all I had to work with, I made the best of it. I slinked my way back to my bed, spread myself out on it like a treat on a plate, and started slowly eating my sandwich, making the most of licking my lips and fingers as I pretended to read a book I'd left on my bed.

Still, he didn't seem inclined to come over and play, so after I finished my dinner. I got up and took off my last piece of clothing. As my briefs hit the floor, he made a small sound and squirmed a bit, but then froze, his eyes shutting quickly, as if blocking my image out. I frowned. That was not the reaction I'd wanted.

“Hojo?” I made my voice soft and soothing. “Are you awake?”

He pretended to be asleep. Stubborn chick. Perhaps I went too fast? I puzzled it over as I got into my nightclothes and went to bed. Perhaps I needed to be a bit more direct, or perhaps I let his mind squawk and bump into itself too much. He was intelligent, perhaps too much so. The Planet only knew what nonsense wandered around in his head. As the sleep I missed the previous night finally demanded that accounts be settled, I promised myself I'd look into this in the morning.

His groan of agony as he hobbled out of bed gave me the first clue about the problems of last night. His pale face, avoidance of bright light, and cringe of pain as he dropped one of his shoes with a loud thump told me the rest. He'd been drunk. Stupid chick. I'd have to start discouraging that habit if it was going to interfere with playtime.

I lazed around a bit, pretending to sleep, as he hurried out of the house. I could guess where he was going, Bettina's. I got dressed as I watched him toddle unsteadily down the street and was out of the house and on his heels before he rounded the corner. As expected, he went straight to Bettina's. I wasn't worried. Davies would be giving her the lotion soon and she would be out of the way.

While he was there, I went to the store, joined the line for coffee and just as I was about to greet Tomas and Keno, who were sleepily poking at some frozen pastries when I saw the perfect thing. My chick would enjoy those. I snatched them out of the freezer case and stood back in line to pay for them. They were lovely. Perfect. Amazing. My chick's eyes would pop out of his head.

I gleefully pattered back down the street and put my find in the freezer to play with later. I paused to check on Dmitri, who was now up and back to cataloging small bits of the past. He gave me a small wave and I left him to his work. I wanted to go check in with the coffee society and perhaps get a bit more gossip about Banning before Hojo got done with breakfast.

I was nearly at the store when Hojo scampered past and darted out of town. Breakfast must have been brief and I hadn't had time to arrange for a group of babysitters for him. Worried, I followed along keeping him in sight. He of course decided that now, with people getting killed, attacked, and fed to vlakorados, was the time to go off to visit his relatives, the Tewits. They had to be the stupidest creature on the Planet, surpassing even the brain dead Hedgehog Pie that lurked around down in the slums. He spent most of the morning perched on a rock watching those idiotic birds coo at each other and defecate on the rocks. I failed to see the attraction, but he seemed happy enough. He only called it a day when two vlakorados came loping over the horizon.

He headed home and I raced through the excavation pits and a few side streets to get to the skull first. I tossed off my shoes, jacket, shirt and tee-shirt, pulled one of my finds out of the freezer, grabbed my book, and flung myself in a chair, looking like I'd spent the morning doing nothing but lazing around reading. The sweat I'd acquired from my sprint home could easily be attributed to the warmth of the skull and any heavy breathing would only add to the overall effect. I smirked as I heard his footsteps approach the door and went to work.

My find, a long slender popsicle, often called a Rocket Pop, was enough of a phallic symbol that my chick's brilliant mind would easily see the connotations and with a bit of skill, wrought of many years of playing with my toys, I could get him to imagine the rest.

My chick nearly hit the floor when he walked in. He stood gawping as I gave my popsicle one of the best blow jobs I'd done for months. I pretended to be innocently involved in my book, as if giving head to long slender objects was an ingrained talent as he struggled to remember to breathe.

I decided to push just a bit more. I looked up at him slowly, as if I was turning to a lover after a bout of mind melting sex. “Would you like one?”

He nearly turned into a puddle of hormones and feathers, but he still managed to squeak, “No, thank you.”

I considered pressing it a bit more, but I had all afternoon, so I decided to let it play out a bit longer. He darted behind his curtain and I made sure my licking and slurping was loud enough for him to hear. The curtain trembled.

I hummed a bit as I thought of how to proceed from here. I could make a few more suggestive remarks, or I could ditch the popsicle, go over, and wiggle him out of those clothes. While it was fun to watch my hatchling as I tormented him, I decided to go for the direct approach. I was just getting up to go convince him to give over his wardrobe when there was a knock at the door. Frowning, scooping Quicksilver up and tucking it into the back of my waistband, I answered the door.

“I'm so sorry to disturb you.” Dmitri nearly whispered as I opened the door. He looked pale, but intense “I just thought you'd like to know that…”

I sighed seeing my fun destroyed for another day. “Wait, I'll be over in just a moment.”

I got dressed, looking at where my fledgling was still quivering behind his curtain, then went over to see Dmitri. He was sitting looking stressed.

“I don't suppose you know who dropped those rocks on you?” I settled into a chair.

“No.” He rubbed his head frowning. “I did see something a few minutes ago that I thought you'd be interested in.”

I nodded, waiting.

“I was checking in with the diggers to see what they had for me when I noticed someone. He was talking to Banning. While he was dressed like a prospector, I noticed that his hands were too… neat.” Dmitri made a small fussy gesture with the brush he was using to clean off a fossil. “Diggers have calloused, often dirty hands. This man's hands were manicured, but he was dressed as a prospector.”

“Interesting.” My main suspect was talking to some who was disguising themselves. Very interesting.

“Banning and the man left. They headed southeast out of town.” He sighed. “I didn't think I could keep up with them so I came to you.”

I nodded, heading out the door. “Were they on foot?”

“Yes. They left about,” he checked his watch, “seven minutes ago. There's not much out there, but you might try some of the old shacks just in the forest line by the foothills.”

I hurried out, heading through the excavation fields hoping to save a bit of time. A few of my friends called out a few greetings, which I waved in acknowledgement of and kept going. It was trickier, with more unstable footing, large holes, and half sober diggers popping up like ghosts on a carnival ride, but I made good time and got to the south east side of town in time to see two figures disappearing over a rise.

“Hey, Vincent! Whatcha doing?” Gopher yelled, causing me to hesitate.

“Hojo wants some…” I thought fast. How about those stupid birds. “Tewit feathers.”

Gopher laughed and yelled something else but I was off, racing after the now vanished figures. I did keep an eye open for roving vlakoradoses, but, from the squawks and flurries of feathers from the area Hojo had visited that morning, I could guess they were all busy having poultry for lunch. I got to the top of the rise and slithered behind a bush to keep from being seen from below.

Banning and his companion were approaching the far tree line. Dmitri had been right about them heading there. As soon as they disappeared, I jogged quickly down the hill, dodging from scrub pine to thorn bush. When I was close enough to the tree line, I quickly dodged in and made my way to where the two had disappeared.

They weren't hard to find. They were in an old, nearly collapsed shed that looked like someone a century ago used to house their livestock in. The idiots hadn't even post a sentry to warn them of lurking Turks. I do love it when people make my job easy.

They were in the middle of an argument when I sidled up to peek through a large space between two graying boards that probably had once been the siding of the building. It was a bit difficult to tell since that section also had pieces of the once roof collapsed on top of it.

“…have it for us by now.” The not-prospector growled. He was short, slender, and definitely Wutaian.

Banning shrugged. “I have a Turk and a Shinra scientist to deal with. It isn't so simple.”

“Kill the Turk. Kill the scientist.” The Wutaian shrugged. “It is simple.”

Banning shook his head. “It would be easier to find more of the sample before anyone else. I did get you the maps.”

“We're paying you to do it.” The man flicked the argument away with a slender hand that probably never touched a shovel before. “Also, if the scientist has the sample, he must die. No one must get a good look at it. We made that clear.”

“I need to get rid of the Turk first, or at least distract him.” Banning ran an aggravated hand through his hair.

“Just kill him.” The not-prospector shrugged.

Banning shook his head. “Kill one Turk and you have ten more poking around looking for the reason their friend's dead.”

The other made a small hmph but didn't argue. I would have felt bad if he had. Veld and I had spent months teaching Wutaian operatives that killing a Turk meant an all out manhunt for the killer. I would have to tell Veld that our efforts were paying off.

“I wounded the Turk's lover. It did distract him for a bit, but the man recovered too quickly.” Banning frowned.

“Just kill the scientist.” The Wutaian gave a snarling grin. “Let the Turk go home as a failure.”

Not likely. Not with these two as my opponents. I drew my gun and considered the fastest way to dispose of my two plotters. While the crack in the siding was excellent for eavesdropping, it would be a bit too small to accurately shoot a moving target, and as soon as I shot the first, the second would definitely move. However, if I moved to a better spot, they might spot me and return fire. I debated my options as the two continued wrangling about how to kill me and my chick, and I finally decided on shooting the Wutaian and hunting Banning down.

As predicted, Banning jumped out of easy range the instant the Wutaian fell. He did surprise me by bolting quickly out of the cabin and into the trees. Damn. I hate pursuing people through the great outdoors. Give me city streets, back alleys, buildings, drug dealers, pimps, thugs, gang bangers, and crime czars. Chasing some ass through trees, bushes, poison oak, ticks, mud, and rotting, decaying leaves is completely horrific. Not to mention dangerous since a wooded landscape offered them plenty of places to set up a quick ambush. Add to that it was getting dark and it was beginning to rain, soaking me in icy water. My adoration of the outdoors experience was complete. My only consolation, as I raced through the drippy, sylvan glens was that Banning was headed for the village…

And my chick… My clueless, defenseless chick.

I hurried faster. Banning might have decided to take out my fledgling to get the sample and head out of town. He didn't know that the sample was still sitting in Davies' safe, so all he would get was a dead hatchling and me hunting him down and sending him straight to hell in the most painful way I could think of. As I ran, I considered a few possibilities if he did harm my chick. I'd have to get Veld to send me a few things, but it would be worth the wait.

I bolted out of the woods, skidded down what seemed to be a backbone of some prehistoric monster, and landed on the eastern edge of town. I dodged through the streets, brushing by people, not bothering to even keep up a pretense of being a lazy slacker. I bolted down an alley, raced up the street leading to our skull and slammed into the house looking for my hatchling. It was now late and he was gone.

I ran back outside and looked around then barged into Dmitri's. He was sound asleep, slumped over his worktable. I wanted to scream at him about losing sight of Hojo, but I had no time. I ran for the next place I could think of, Bettina's.

I was panting as I pounded on her door. Davies answered it looking peeved.

“Hojo.” I gasped, trying to catch my breath after my long sprint. “Banning's trying to kill him. Where is he?”

“Banning?” Davies stepped through the door and closed it behind him. “Are you sure? I've known Banning for years, he wouldn't…

“I overheard him and another man. Where is Hojo?”

“I saw him a couple of hours ago looking for the diggers.” Davies pointed out to the excavations. “I doubt they're still there, but…”

“Thanks.”

I raced off to check the pits and the tents around them. It wasn't unheard of for the diggers to light arc lights and work late, but the fields were empty. The freezing rain that had now turned into sleet had driven everyone inside.

I spun around and headed for the store. Cooper was still lolling around behind the counter offering coffee to half frozen archaeologists and diggers. I scanned quickly around, but couldn't find either my fledgling or Banning. They all seemed to be in a great mood. Keno and Tomas were eating some kind of meal out of frozen food cartons and Gopher was sprawled next to them gulping down coffee.

“Find the birds? Or did you get your ass chewed by the lizards?” Keno grinned as I hurried over.

“Neither. Has anyone seen Hojo?” I gestured toward the diggers. “Davies said he was with the diggers.”

Tomas shrugged, “Try the bar.”

I nodded and dashed away. It was now almost midnight and Banning could have easily found Hojo and put a bullet through him. And while the house had looked untouched when I got there, it didn't mean that Banning hadn't been there before me. My chick was horrifyingly careless about locking doors.

I reached the bar and found it full of mud splattered, laughing people. Except for the mud, it seemed just the sort of place my chick would seek on a cold, drizzly day. I waded through the masses, searching for him. I was ogled, fondled, petted, and groped thoroughly by the time I found him sitting in the back of the bar with a large man fondling him drunkenly and my chick smiling happily, laughing at some idiot story about how some poor schmuck got buried in dinosaur dung.

What was he? A walking hormone? When I got back to Midgar, I'd have to tell Veld I found someone who outdid me in acquiring new toys. Every time I looked, he was cuddling up to someone new. Even I didn't breakfast with one toy and then go out in the evening to cuddle with another. I considered making chocobo stew out of him for a few moments, then realized that once again he was completely plastered, probably even worse than the night before. I shoved my way over to him and grabbed the back of his jacket.

“You. Go home.” I snarled at him then transferred my happiness to the man who had touched my chick.

The man stumbled quickly away.

My chick smiled happily at me and offered me a beer. “Don' wanna. `ave a drink?”

I snarled at the other diggers and dragged my happy chick home. I wasn't gentle. I had run madly through nature's loveliness, gotten rained and sleeted on, gotten sexually assaulted, and all to find he was out drinking himself blind. I thought I would find him dead in a puddle of blood. I thought I would lose him, and he was having a great time. I wanted to use him as a kickball and kick him up the street and watch him rebound off the buildings.

I opened the door, checked the house, and then pushed him inside. “Go take a cold shower.”

He took a couple of stumbling steps then fell to the floor in a heap. It didn't bother him. He just grinned up at me with wide innocent eyes as he swayed back and forth.

“Planet, you're drunk.” I sighed and dragged him giggling into the bathroom.

He continued snickering until I shoved him under a spray of cold water. He gave me a hurt look, just a foolish, lost chick. I dropped him and stormed back into the main room, leaving him to sober up. I paused in the kitchen to take a few deep breaths, calming myself down. It didn't work too well, but when someone knocked on the door, I was under control enough to not just start blasting holes through the door.

I did draw my gun and cautiously open the door. It was Davies.

“I heard you found him.” He nodded inside. “I've got a few men looking for Banning. If we find him, we'll hold him till we get this straightened out.”

I nodded. “You might want to tell the men to be armed. He's already killed a few people.”

Davies frowned, “Nakami?”

“And a few prospectors.” I glanced around the street.

He sighed. “I always felt Nakami falling like that was odd. I'll tell the others.” He handed me back the sample. “This would be safer with you. Banning has the combination to the safe, and if this is important enough to lock up, it's important enough for him to steal.”

Davies wasn't a fool. He nodded goodbye and left. I looked across the street and found Dmitri walking over. The sleet had turned into a heavy snow and he was covered in it as he made his way slowly over to me, averting his eyes.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…” He looked horrified and frightened.

I knew head wounds. I'd had my fair share, and leaving him to watch over Hojo had been careless of me. Sudden unplanned for naps were to be expected and leaving Hojo in the care of someone who had just received a blow hard enough to knock them out for nearly twenty four hours was careless of me. I should have prepared better. Still, I couldn't let it entirely slide.

“We'll talk about it in the morning.” I looked back over my shoulder as I heard Hojo fumbling around trying to open the bathroom door.

He slumped and scuttled back to his house, probably thinking I was going to shoot him. Jin had done things like that. One screw up on an important case and you were gone, whether it was really your fault or not. While I still practiced it to some extent to cull out the less qualified (mainly Jin's lingering friends), I didn't waste good operatives and Dmitri was very good at his job, not to mention getting a replacement would be difficult. Few Turks would willingly live up in this ice floe.

I went back in, set the sample back on its doily, then went over to the kitchen and mixed together a hangover remedy that was one of the dearly held secrets of the Turks. It tasted terrible, but if you were drunk enough to need it, you were beyond being able to criticize it. I set it on the counter and went over to the fire, still listening to Hojo fumbling with the doorknob, and picked up my book. I still needed to calm down. I needed to keep focused in case Banning showed up. I needed to get the image of my chick laying dead on the floor out of my head. I needed to keep from turning him over my knee and spanking him. No sexual quirk intend.

He finally stumbled out of the bath and stood blinking around, wavering on his feet.

“What were you thinking?” I growled.

He wobbled and peered around. He was so drunk he had trouble focusing his eyes. I half expected him to fall to the floor in a pile of knees, elbows, confused warks, and feathers. Instead his eyes grew wide and he bolted back to the bathroom. The following sounds of retching were hardly inspiring. After a few minutes of me smirking over his misery, he staggered out of the bathroom looking green.

I pointed at the counter and the drink I'd left there. “Drink that and go to bed.”

He stumbled over to the kitchen fumbling around till he located the glass, and I returned to my reading, still trying to get my nerves to stop jangling and sending extra adrenalin to the rest of my body. After he drank the stuff he stumbled about for a few minutes, trying to locate his bed then collapsed onto it in a pile of sodden clothes. I vindictively let him stay like that, feeling that if I tried to undress him, I'd probably end up trying to knock sense into his thick head by pounding it on the wall.

Why did I want him so badly? Right then it was a mystery.

I was up early the next morning, rousted Dmitri out of bed to watch Hojo and made sure he wouldn't take any sudden naps, then went off to the store. The coffee line was somewhat subdued as I joined its ranks, hoping for news of Banning. What I found out wasn't encouraging. Cooper, our coffee provider, wasn't at his usual spot, serving cheap coffee to desperate men. Instead a girl I'd only seen in passing on the street was doing the honors.

Keno, Tomas, and Gopher were all huddled together talking intensely. The other people, once they had their caffeine fix, were also huddling into groups. Everyone seemed tense, a few looked shocked, and many looked frightened.

“What happened?” I slipped up to stand between Gopher and Keno.

They all looked at me then glanced around worriedly.

“Vincent, uhhh… can you teach me how to shoot?” Keno's eyes were darting around.

“Me, too.” Gopher seemed to be trying to hide behind me.

Tomas just bit his lip.

“Why?” Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

“Banning shot Cooper last night.” Tomas whispered. “Tried to break in the safe and Cooper must have heard him. Poor kid.”

I say again. Davies was no fool. I wondered if he'd like a position as a Turk operative. He was certainly doing better than I was at the moment. Perhaps my slacker act was sinking in deeper than I thought. I was running around a half step behind while Davies was thinking a step ahead.

Gopher jumped as a couple of diggers came in and dropped their gear by the door with a loud crash. “I can't believe I trusted him. I was alone with him yesterday! He could have killed me.”

I nodded and looked around. “Has anyone seen him?”

Tomas shook his head. “Davies has a few men out looking, but no one's heard anything. He just said to go about our lives like usual, that things were under control.”

That is political speak for we are in deep shit and don't have a shovel, so think happy thoughts and maybe the fairies will solve our problems. Unhappily, I didn't believe in fairies, but I did have a shovel. I slipped away from the others as they all started talking about locks, security systems, and buying guns for protection. Davies was in his office trying to pretend that everything was fine, that there wasn't a fresh blood stain in his doorway, and that one of his archaeologists wasn't the cause of the panic out in the main store.

“Morning, Vincent.” He greeted me, looking tired. “You heard about Cooper?”

I nodded and looked carefully around. While it had been picked up, there were still signs of the office being riffled. Papers that were usually neatly in holders were piled up in stacks. Some of the personal items that Davies had perched on shelves and file cabinets were gone. Books that had once sat pristinely on shelves were now piled next to the shelves.

“You might want to hang around a moment.” Davies nodded to a chair as he finished fixing the file he'd been working on. “A couple of the boys think they saw Banning this morning here in town. I had them search the area and they'll be back in a couple of minutes.”

I sat down and sipped my coffee. “Are you sure Banning did this?” I motioned to the bloodstain and the out of place items.

He nodded. “Yes, I saw him. I heard the shot when I was coming back from your place.” He looked tired. “I ran in here and saw Cooper on the floor and Banning coming out of my office with a gun. It was him.”

I nodded. If it had been earlier in the investigation, I would have doubted more. I might have questioned whether Banning was the shooter or if he had raced in after the shooting and was holding a gun for protection. Just because something looks as if it was so, didn't always mean it was. However, I'd heard from Banning himself. A killer is a killer and killing a counter clerk, even one who had been a friend, wasn't likely to bother him much. He probably even blamed Cooper, hiding his guilt, even from himself by justifying it in his own mind.

I speak from experience.

I sat watching Davies work as I contemplated Banning until the boys he'd sent out returned.

“The city.” One huffed, apparently they had run back. “We saw him go through the entrance. He had a harp.”

“When?” I was on my feet.

“Just a few minutes ago.” Another waved towards the north were the entrance to the Sleeping Forest lay. “We saw him go in.”

I turned to go when Davies called me back. “Here, take these.”

He tossed me two mastered materia a fire and a restore. I nodded my thanks and was out the door running down the street to the forest's entrance, hoping that I could catch up with him quickly. The seahorse monsters would probably slow him down.

The trees were all hissing angrily to themselves and I wondered just how much longer the Lunar Harps would work. The trees seemed to be getting angrier and angrier every time I passed through. Since the harp didn't so much put them to sleep as to give the player a pass through their domain, I wouldn't have been surprised if the pass got revoked.

The seahorse monsters were already floating around as so much dust as I reached the blasted area. Banning must have had a mastered fire materia too. I didn't have much hope for the monster by the stairs slowing him down.

However, he did brighten my day by shooting at me as he scampered down the path to the city. I dove behind some trees and rocks as the bullets snapped around me. I drew Quicksilver and checked my bullets. While I hadn't picked up extra ammo when I raced through the skull, I had enough on me, my main problem was that the angles were all wrong. I couldn't get a clear shot and with bullets skittering around me, I didn't feel inclined to shift my position.

Instead, I stayed still. This is a good technique, if done right. It gives the impression that you fell to the bullets while you stay tucked safely in a hidey-hole. Sometimes, if the perp was really stupid, they'd come over to check their kill, which was always a great time to return fire.

Banning kept up the bullet rain for a few minutes then stopped. I stayed put, listening. After a few moments, I could hear him pattering away, down the path. I continued to wait a moment more, then cautiously slunk after him, waiting for a opening to take a shot.

But he was gone.

I got down to the end of the path and stood in front of the City of the Ancients wondering where he'd gotten to. I could easily see the paths and streets snaking off to the city, but no sign of Banning. I jogged into the village and started searching. He had to be there somewhere. I spent the rest of the day there, hunting through the city. By the time the sun had settled, I was tired, jumpy, and irritated. Banning had evaporated.

I found a decent bed in what seemed to be the main building of the city and bunked down there for the night. As much as I hated to leave my chick in the care of someone who was liable to fall asleep, I hoped that fear would keep Dmitri awake. If anything did happen to my chick, I would make sure all his fears came true.

The next morning I started exploring the walkway. It had been between it and the city that Banning had disappeared. I carefully inspected the path from the bottom where Banning had been shooting at me, to the top where I had hid. I found shell casings. I found footprints heading for the village. I found disturbed rocks and broken twigs on bushes and trees heading away from the path, but I didn't find Banning. I did another search of the city then headed back towards the village. I'd spent two days banging my head against a wall and I just wanted to shoot Banning, play with my hatchling, and fall into my bed.

What I got when I opened my door was a stinking mess. Hojo reeked of mud and cheap booze. The skull, which had been clean, now had a trail of filth leading from the door to where the idiot was now snoozing on the table. The table that was notably missing the sample.

Fuck. I was so busy hunting for Banning in the city that he'd doubled back and taken the sample while the dolt I'd been assigned to guard had gone out to swill cheap liquor and throw himself at any warm, or even semi-warm body.

He woke up, looking at me blearily as I pondered if my life would be simpler if I just shot him myself.

First things first though. “Where's the sample?” I growled.

He blinked at me wallowing in stupidity. “Sample?”

“The sample…” I was now wondering if I should waste bullets on him when I'd get so much more satisfaction if I just strangled him.

I stormed out cursing him, his relatives, and chocobos everywhere. I swore from that day forth if I saw a chocobo, I'd shoot it. I was met by Dmitri who waved me over, holding up the sample jar.

“I got this from Davies.” He handed it over to me.

I nodded. “Any word on Banning?”

He shook his head. “No, but Cooper is doing well.”

That was nice to hear. The counter girl had been nice enough, in an I'm-closely-related-to-a-snow-wraith kind of way, but her coffee had been weak. It had also been the last thing I'd had to eat. My stomach whimpered at me for food, and I glanced behind me at the skull. Even canned food sounded good.

Dmitri must have heard. “Come over for dinner. It's almost done. We can catch up.”

I gratefully accepted and we spent the next half hour discussing how Banning could have disappeared from the path. As far as both Dmitri and I could tell, there was only one way into the city, but somehow, Banning had found a different way to leave it. Only after having finished the steak, pan gravy, and mashed potatoes that Dmitri fixed, did I go back to deal with the hatchling.

He was down on his hands and knees, miserable, hung over, and shivering, even under thick layers of blankets and clothing, but he was diligently cleaning up his mess. I wasn't entirely in the mood to forgive him, though the meal had lessened my desire to trundling him off to whatever afterlife clueless chocobos had to look forward too. I set the sample back on the table, even centering it on the doily, gave him a warning look to leave me alone and went over to sit on my bed. He gave me a wary look, but turned back to his scrubbing. When he was finished, he wobbled off to bed.

I called Veld and caught him up on my findings and my brilliance. He was appreciative and spent a few glorious minutes feeding my ego by calling me all kinds of supportive names, of which dimwit, was probably the kindest.

“Plants! You spent an entire afternoon with a suspect and fucked around thinking about plants?! What happened, did Mr. Assistant Director give you a free lobotomy? Did your brain freeze? Hell, tell you what, just stay up there with the rest of the vegetables.”

There is nothing like an irate partner to lend you support in your dark moments.

“I don't know what happened.” I mumbled feeling like a new rookie. “Everything was going fine till I stepped foot in that city.”

“Yeah. It was the city's fault. You fucked up and the city did it. Right…” He paused and I braced myself. “You mother fucking loser, the fucking city didn't do shit! Wrench your head out of your ass and fucking kill that piece of shit!”

By the time I hung up, I felt all warm and cozy. I flopped back on my bed and listened to Hojo snuffle softly in his sleep. It had been a long day and I was more than ready for it to end. Veld had every reason to be furious. I'd been acting like a raw recruit since I got up here. I'd been playing games and ignoring business. If Jin had still been alive, I'd have been retired to a shallow grave by now and even I couldn't argue with it. If I had an operative who'd messed up as much as I had, I would have retired him too.

I spent the night dozing lightly, listening for even the tiniest of sounds to indicate that Banning was lurking nearby. By morning, I had my plans in place. There would be no more fumbling around. Banning, the main suspect, was missing and probably well hidden. This suggested that he either had a partner in his crimes, or other Wutaian operatives were still in the area. He'd most likely continue to hide until he either got ordered to move by the Wutaians, felt safe enough to move against Hojo and take the sample, fled, or found another way to achieve his goals without endangering himself too much. Because of my bumbling, he'd be next to impossible to find. My next steps were simple, I would keep Davies' boys looking for Banning. They could move about the village unnoticed. I would do my own searches and make myself easily observable, giving Banning the opportunity to watch me while the boys kept watch for him. When Banning finally moved, I would be ready this time.

I also had to keep Hojo out of trouble. His continued drinking was creating a dangerous situation. I would have to arrange for him to be out of commission for a short time. His shivering last night and misery from last night could easily be the onset of a cold. With a bit of encouragement, that cold could turn into something worse, laying him up for a few days till I dealt with Banning. There would be no need for harsh measures such as confining him to the skull, or, considering how he'd wark and flap his wings if confined, shackling him to a piece of furniture, preferably his bed.

I checked to see if he was still asleep, and once his soft snores confirmed that he was, I went over and made a few adjustments to the heater. This time I made sure it wouldn't work. Being stuck in a cold skull with no more than the erratic heat of a fireplace would take its toll. I'd even spend the day inside to make sure he didn't continue down the sloshy path to alcoholism.

He woke up as I finished my adjustments. I looked down at the heater sadly. “It's dead.”

He wobbled, shivering out of bed and came to look at the heater. “Lovely.”

He looked pale with dark rings under his eyes, which were bloodshot. His voice was raspy and had a definite congested sound to it. His decline into ill health was, as I suspected, already well underway.

“Catch a cold?” I didn't bother looking sympathetic. His drinking had been a major problem and I felt a bad cold was good payback for his idiocy.

He however was still in denial. “The drinking is catching up to me.”

In a way it was, but I wasn't going to make that comment. Instead, I took a look around planning on my day of making sure my chick was too sick to go out and play. The weather was helping out by being heavily overcast with a good snowstorm already in progress. That would ensure that the excavations were left for the day so there would be little chance of him suddenly deciding to go out digging and drinking. I checked the firewood and found it a bit low. That would give me a good reason to leave him for a few minutes to arrange a few things with Davies. I'd also need to get some food.

I looked back down at the dead heater. “We should get another.”

He sniffled, but gave me an odd smile. “Back ordered.”

Confessing that I had bribed Davies into telling him that wouldn't be smart, and I had enough of acting like a dolt. I went and put on my coat. “Hmm. I'll talk to Davies.”

He trundled off to the kitchen as I stepped out. I went across the street, arranged for Dmitri to watch the house, and went off to speak with Davies about getting the boys to keep watch for Banning.

“Vincent!” Gopher was manning the counter, so I went over to talk. Hoping he might have some useful gossip. “How's it going?”

“Good.” I ordered a cup of coffee. “Any word on Cooper?”

I'd found that if you directly ask someone for information, seven times out of ten, they'd come down with amnesia and claim oh, I know nothing. However, if you asked about something else, something related to what you wanted, all sorts of information would suddenly pour out of them. Gopher didn't disappoint me.

“He's doing great.” He waved around the store. “He'll be back next week.”

I nodded and leaned against the counter. The snow and the late hour had decreased the traffic in the store to dust bunnies, so we both had plenty of time.

“Good to know.” I looked worried. “He's not scared of coming back?”

I sipped my coffee and watched Gopher shake his head.

“Nah.” Gopher shrugged. “We figure that Banning was a fluke. You know, probably got into drugs or something and…”

Davies was keeping his mouth shut. I really needed to see if he'd like to work for the Turks.

But Gopher wasn't finished. “He's always been… you know… odd. Came up here a few years ago and never really fit in.”

I nodded, wishing that Veld had sent those files. I also wished he'd send me my clothes. I was getting a bit tired of wearing the same thing and washing them in the sink.

“We did find out something though.” Gopher made a disgusted sound. “He was part of the original expedition to the City of the Ancients.”

“You mean, all that work…” I pretended to be surprised, but the information really only confirmed what I'd suspected.

“Yep.” He shook his head. “He knew all about everything.” He dug under the counter a moment. “Here look.”

It was a map detailing the forest, path, and city. It even covered the ruined part of the city and caves behind it. The seahorses and monster were marked with notes on the best way to get past them. There was a small crevice marked on the path that lead directly to the back caves of the city, and there was a path marked from the exit of those caves, which was behind the northern mountains to a pass leading to Icicle.

“Can I borrow this?” I tapped the map.

“Sure.” Gopher rolled it up. “It's a copy anyways.”

We exchanged a few more bits of gossip, mainly about Davies and Bettina then I went and arranged for Davies to have the boys keep watch for Banning. I remembered to order the food and firewood, which Gopher assured me would be delivered quickly and I went back to keep an eye on my chick's declining health and help it decline a bit more.

He was bundled up in layers of coats, sweaters, scarves and hats and stumbling his way down the street with Dmitri ghosting unnoticed in his wobbly wake. He looked completely miserable as he halted in front of me wavering slightly. Getting him sicker wouldn't be much of a problem, especially if he kept wandering around in the middle of a snow storm.

“Firewood and food.” His voice was cracking and it sounded painful for him to talk.

“Ordered them when I talked to Davies. It'll be delivered in a half hour.” As I assessed his health, I suddenly thought it might be harder to keep him from getting too sick than making him sicker. I needed him out of the way temporarily, not dying in a remote outback with inadequate medical supplies.

I frowned and went back to the house with Hojo following after me. I shrugged off my coat and went over to the fire to read as he came in and started peeling off layers of outerwear. I watched him carefully, trying to gage if he was sick enough to stay put, in which case Davies would be able to magically repair the heater, or if he needed a slight push into the lands of viruses. I decided to let the matter play out for the day and return his heater to him tomorrow.

He settled at the table and began reading, his usual pot of tea at his elbow. When the food arrived, he got up, wincing and hobbling like an old man, to put the things away. He returned to play with his sample a little more, then started shivering.

I briefly wondered if I could get him to come snuggle with me, but he was far too germy. I might need him sick so I could hunt Banning, but I didn't need to get sick with him. I got up, made us some lunch and returned to my reading.

After he was done eating, he painfully got to his feet and came to perch by the fire. His nose was starting to run and a flush was creeping across his face. By dinner he was wheezing slightly and was blinking heavily at his book. The fire shifted from being too low to being too hot as I carefully monitored the wood supply, making sure he was either sweating or freezing. He bundled into a thick sweater and cuddled as close as he could to the fire.

Only after we'd finished eating dinner did he seem to realize that he was continually sniffling and rubbing his nose. He started sneezing and a few coughs worked their way through his sore throat. I let him wallow in his denial for a bit then decided to end the game.

“You have a cold.” I accused him, acting like I hadn't been working for that moment all day.

“No I don't.” He mumbled. “'s all'gies.”

Allergies? Really? I gave him a disgusted look. “Go to bed before you infect me.”

He still protested, even as he sniffled. “I'm not sick.”

Stubborn chick. Would anyone mind if I killed you? I got up shaking my head when he started babbling nonsense.

“My mother would.” He glared at me. “She checks on me every week.”

Now he's a mind reader? I frowned at him, discouraging this new habit. “Go take a shower.”

He seemed to like that idea and went to wallow in hot water. He splashed around in there for awhile and I whipped together a home remedy my mother had made me drink whenever I got sick. While it tasted hideous, I used to think drinking weed killer would have been more tasty, it did help lessen the symptoms of a cold. Not cure them, that was another recipe, but it did help make the whole thing more bearable.

He seemed perkier when he came out, but it only lasted a few minutes and then fell onto his bed with a soft, choked moan.

Poor chick.

I poured the drink into a mug and came over to him. I was prepared to bully him to get him to drink the stuff and had donned my tough, hard-ass, Turk face. “Drink.”

He grimaced the whole time, but he gulped the stuff down. When he was finished, he looked miserable. His eyes were blurry. His nose was already starting to run. His face had turned pale during his experience with the herbal concoction I'd forced him to drink. His hair straggled limply around his face and he sat huddled and shivering on his bed.

I sat down next to him and motioned for him to turn. “Turn around.”

His brain must have been foggy as well. He looked at me confused and only could mutter a puzzled sound. I playfully grabbed the towel he had wrapped around his waist, getting a good view of just how well proportioned my hatchling was. Very nice.

I suppressed my pleased smirk “Your hair's wet. You'll get sicker.”

I motioned for him to turn around again and after a few confused blinks and a bit of blushing, he complied, which gave me a good view of his other side. Again, very nice. I wouldn't have known that considering he generally wore baggy clothes and seemed attached to an old, ratty lab coat that covered him from shoulder to knee. Too bad he was sick.

I started drying his hair, messaging his scalp and shoulders as I rubbed the towel through his hair. At first, he was stiff, but slowly he relaxed till he was slumping in my arms asleep. I tossed the towel aside and slipped onto his bed, cradling him against me and pulling the blankets around him. I'd been cruel enough for one day. He was sick. I had gotten what I wanted. I could spend a bit of time being nice. He snuggled closer to me breathing my name.

I froze at the sound.

I'd been playing with him, teasing, trying to get him naked in bed, and now I'd accomplished it. The problem, besides his sickness, was that… I wasn't sure who'd done the trapping. I'd been so focused on my job, on the game that I was playing, that I let things run out of my control. What was I doing?

Veld would be having meltdown if he could see me. I'd made huge mistakes on the investigation, forgetting that I was a Turk first and a bullet answers a lot of questions. I'd wandered around Bone Village acting in more ways than one like an idiot slacker. I was playing stupid, senseless games with the chick, and…

I got caught.

Someplace between stepping into his office a year ago, and his falling asleep in my arms, he'd caught me. Me! The one who acquired and disposed of lovers faster than I disposed of cheap coffee cups. The whole city of Midgar was my toy box so why should I content myself with one toy. But I didn't want the toys. They were pretty. They all gave me anything I wanted, their time, their bodies, their devotion, but I didn't want them. I wanted a stupid chocobo chick who drank too much, thought too much, and gangled around the house with foolish smile and wasn't even close to being good looking. And I didn't want him to leave. I could see us together for a long time. I wanted to wake up with him curled against me as he was doing now. I wanted to come home and find him warking about his day and cooking canned food. I wanted to see what nonsense that too intelligent brain would come up with. I wanted to see him turn from the perky yellow chick that he was into the mythic gold chocobo that I knew he'd one day become. I wanted his present self and his future self.

Veld would howl. The chick had turned me into a long termer while he was still searching for toys.

I'd have to change his mind.

I woke up early and wiggled out from under him. I made him some breakfast, toast and juice, and another cup of herbal mix with a dire message of retribution if he didn't swallow it down like a good little fledgling. I dug his music player out of the drawer where he kept absentmindedly stashing it and set it next to the plate, hoping he'd get the message and stay inside to watch movies and rest. I had things to do and with my chick safely tucked away, I intended on making up for lost time.

I went and checked in with Dmitri.

“Any word yet?” I asked as I brushed snow off my shoulders. It was snowing heavily still and just crossing the street had been special.

“Two diggers who found more of the sample were found this morning, both shot in their beds.” He frowned. “It looks like they died yesterday sometime. When they didn't show up this morning a couple of men went looking for them.”

Banning hadn't waited long.

“Any clues?” I grabbed a piece of paper and started writing.

“Sand.” Dmitri held out another small plastic bag. “It was found near the door in some boot prints and inside on the front doormat.”

I took the evidence and looked at it. It was the same pale gray sand as before. It also gave away where Banning had to be, the City of the Ancients. He wasn't going to get away. I had the map still folded in my pocket and I knew all the little hideaways he could use.

“Excellent.” I handed Dmitri the paper that I'd written my mother's recipe on. “Make sure Hojo drinks this every eight hours and make sure he eats. I'll be back when I can.”

I was out the door and digging in my pocket for my cell.

“Veld, I've got a trail.” I raced towards the entrance to the Sleeping Forest. “He's holed up in the Ancient's city.”

“What do you need?” He sounded crisp and efficient, ready to give me what I needed to get the job done. I only wish he'd been a bit more efficient getting me more practical things.

“I might need a pick-up. I'll be heading for the city, but if he bolts, he'll run for Icicle through the snow canyons.” I ran into the forest then paused. I'd forgotten the harp, but the trees hummed softly at me, making me feel welcome. Like before the trees were happy that I was there whether I had a harp or not. And like before, I felt the urge to go wander amongst them stroking their trunks and feeling their leaves caress my skin. I shook it off.

“Fine. I'll have a team ready. Need anything else?”

“Body armor would be nice.” It was a dig. I'd asked for one to be sent with the rest of my gear and clothes.

“Suck it up.” He didn't sound like he was going to send it anytime soon. Where had all that brisk, efficient helpfulness evaporated to?

“Thanks. If anything happens, Dmitri knows what's been going on. Also, think about recruiting Davies, the village's headman.

“Sure. Sure.” He brushed my thoughtful planning aside. “Just call me when you kill the fucker.”

He hung up on that cheer filled thought and I came to the area where the seahorses were. I dug around in my pockets and pulled out the materia that Davies had given me. With mastered fire materia, dealing with the seahorses was simple. The monster by the bridge was easily disposed of and as I sped down the path, looking for ambushes, I wondered if the Ancients had bred that thing just to hang out at the top of the stairs and if they were going to go extinct if I kept turning them to ash one at a time.

I ducked into the crevice at the bottom of the path and wiggled through its tight confines to the far side of the city. It was dark and not too pleasant, but it was better than taking the open path. This way I might be able to surprise Banning before he even noticed I was there.

I emerged in a small, relatively clean room that had a small bed, portable gas stove, and a small trunk with its lid standing open revealing that it had been emptied. Banning had already fled.

Snarling, I drew my gun and checked out the door. There was a rough hewn corridor that went left and a smoother one going to the right. I could hear someone talking in the distance from the left, so I carefully made my way down the hall listening.

“I've got the sample.”

“Yes. Yes.”

“No. I didn't. They were looking for me. I couldn't get near enough.”

“Okay.”

I could only hear Banning's voice and wondered if he was talking to his Wutaian contacts.

I crept closer hoping for a shot, but Banning suddenly started moving.

“Fine. I'll be there.”

They were going to meet him? Maybe I should let him live long enough to meet his contacts. I'd killed the first before I could get any information out of him, but maybe I could find a more talkative Wutaian to be my confidant.

I ducked into a small rough nook as Banning came out of what seemed to be another room. He was heading deeper into the caverns. He never bothered looking behind himself, feeling safe in the city.

“Two?” He strode down the hall and turned into another. “Can you make it sooner?”

I followed along, keeping far enough back that he wouldn't see me.

“Fine.”

He was, if I remembered the map, winding back towards the tunnel that led to the pass that would take him to Icicle. It would take about a day of travel to get there from here. I wasn't looking forward to the trip. It would be far better to take Banning out now and have Veld send a team to give our Wutaian friends a hearty welcome.

I hurried forward and spotted Banning as he stepped out into the snowy pass. I dashed forward, trying to still catch him before he got lost in the snow. It's a bitch to shoot with any accuracy in a heavy snowstorm and I'd have preferred to forgo that pleasure. Banning had other ideas and as I rushed forward he saw me and dodged into the storm and under cover.

Damn bastard.

I wove carefully into the storm, all my senses straining in the soft white hiss of snow. The whole day promptly turned into a nightmare. Banning had to be one of those smart psychos that refused to get provoked into giving his position away. He also had to be armed. I spent the next day and a half dodging from rock to tree to anonymous snowdrift dodging bullets and trying to get a clear shot at Banning through a near blizzard.

The jacket that Hojo had given me was a good jacket and kept me from dying in the freezing wind that made the snow blast into my face like ice pellets, but it wasn't meant for spending a night out in the middle of the arctic. As soon as it got too dark to safely move for fear of falling into an ice hole, I huddled behind a group of rocks and used the fire materia to heat one of them.

The next morning the second it became light enough to move I slipped from my hiding place to continue hunting for Banning. I'd used up all my magical strength staying warm, but I wasn't too worried. Icicle was only a half day away, and one way or another, I would be at there or dead by tonight. I checked my ammo, decided to be more careful with my shots, and went to find out where Banning had spent the night. I wasn't pleased when a bullet snipped across the side of my thigh from behind me. Banning had had the same idea.

Bastard.

We continued our dance, weaving slowly towards Icicle. Or so I thought. It was nightfall again and I saw no trace of Icicle. I dug into a snow drift and used what small amount of magic I still possessed to start a small fire in the tree I uncovered. I didn't dare try to sleep, not with a fire pinpointing my location and the cold trying to turn me into part of the landscape. I spent the night huddled, shivering, and dolefully realizing that if I didn't get to Icicle tomorrow, early, there was a good chance I'd die on the ice fields.

I was staggering to my feet before dawn and this time ignored Banning. I carefully climbed up a hill, looking for any trace of civilization. I could guess from the sun's position that the town had to be over the next set of hills towards the northwest.

I trekked towards the village. Sooner or later, and I was betting sooner, Banning had to go there. I wanted to be waiting. I barely made the edge of the village before a ragged figure appeared stumbling out of the snowstorm.

When he saw me, he instantly grabbed for his gun. Stupid bastard. I already had Quicksilver in my hand. He had no chance. I felt a warm glow of satisfaction as his body slumped to the ground. I went over and riffled through his pockets. I found a small glass vile of the sample, a few letters, and a thick wad of gil.

I left him there and went into the inn. The desk clerk looked shocked as I dragged myself to the counter. “Room, please.”

He just stood there looking at me.

“I need a room.” I wanted to collapse now. The floor seemed to be beckoning me.

The clerk blinked a few times and backed away. I wondered dreamily what was wrong with the boy, but I seemed to be floating away. The last thing I felt as I drifted off was a pair of arms catching me as I fell backwards.

I drifted back to the feeling of being warm. My hands and feet tingled and burned, and my face felt sore. It was dark and I couldn't see anything. I tried turning my head, but it was too much effort. However, I had a job to do. Had I really killed Banning? How about his contacts? Where was my chick? Where was I for that matter? I tried to struggle up, needing answers.

“You awake?”

Veld.

I let myself relax. “Yes.” My mouth felt dry.

“Good. Hang on a moment.” There was some rustling from near where I was laying and a moment later a light came on and Veld was leaning over me. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” My voice was barely a whisper.

Veld helped me sit and held a glass to my lips. “Doc said for you to drink this when you woke up.”

I didn't argue. The potion tasted bitter sweet on my tongue and a bit too thick, but it was better than nothing. As it took effect, I looked around. I was in a room at the inn with its cheerful ski lodge décor. There were two beds. I was in one, and by the look of it, Veld had been laying on the other.

“Okay, now tell me.” Veld sat down on the edge of the bed. “We found Banning's body.”

I nodded and told him about my delightful travels through the pass to Icicle. Half way through, he called down for room service and as I finished my tale of wondrous places to avoid, I had a large glass of juice and a bowl of warm, homemade soup.

“Sounds like fun.” Veld was eating an overflowing sandwich and guzzling down a beer which I felt was unfair.

Veld got to drink. Hojo nearly swam in drinks. I was the one who had worked hard and suffered. I wanted a drink too. My partner glared at me when I asked for one and called down to the kitchen for another glass of apple juice.

“He was supposed to meet the Wutaians yesterday.” I continued, hoping it had been yesterday. I started wondering just how long I'd been sleeping.

Veld nodded. “We found them. Stupid fuckers. They didn't even try to hide.” Veld leaned back in his chair. “A group of Wutaians in sharp suits is really easy to spot. They were even flashing weapons. Dumb. Really dumb. Even not knowing you were headed this way with Banning, I would have rounded them up.”

I sipped my soup, feeling sleepy. “I have to get back to the village. I don't know if Banning was working alone.”

“He was.” Veld smirked nastily. “One of the Wutaians came down with a guilty conscience and couldn't wait to unburden himself.”

I pushed the soup away and Veld relocated it to the bedside stand. “I really should get back.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Veld nodded, watching as I slipped down under the covers again. “Whatever you say.”

I had to swallow anther potion the next morning, but after snarling a few morning pleasantries at my partner, I was allowed to go down for breakfast. He hovered a bit, but by the time I was chomping my way through eggs, potatoes, biscuits and gravy, and a steak, he was back to being himself and was laughing at me about Hojo.

“I knew it.” He laughed. “I knew when you fell you'd fall hard.”

“Thanks.” I grunted as I chewed on my steak. “The problem is what do I do with him now?”

Veld sobered up. “Nothing. You leave him alone.”

“Hm?” I looked up from my plate. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, looking away. “Toys are fine. Having a casual bedmate, that's okay too, but we're Turks. You're going to have to kick him loose.”

I frowned spearing a potato. “I don't see why.”

“You're too attached. “Veld looked away. “You'll make him a target.”

I snorted. “He's already a target. His presence in the science department is a threat to Gast. He's going to take action sooner or later.”

“True.” Veld glanced at me then looked disgusted. “Okay, fine. Give it a try but don't come whining to me when your lover boy gets turned into a grease spot.”

I let it drop. I knew that most of Veld's advice came from his own experience. When he fell in love, he fell all the way in and it had never ended well. The best ending so far had been finding his lover, a young lady from Kalm, hiding in a closet crying and terrified after a group of drug pushers had broken into their apartment searching for him.

I changed the subject and we discussed other things, like why I never got my things (someone had misplaced the work order to bring them up to me), how the drug war and fight against crime was going (the drug dealers had strangely all killed themselves in a mass expression of guilt), and various inner office gossip (three secretaries had ended up pregnant and they all pointed to Gast as the daddy).

After breakfast, Veld hustled me back to our room and abandoned me to the mercies of the town doctor. He was a young, young man with bright blue eyes, black hair, and a wide, white smile.

“You're lucky you didn't lose any digets.” He inspected my hands and feet. “I wouldn't have been surprised if you had.”

Thank the Planet for potions.

He listened to me breathe, recommended that I stay warm and inside for another day, and gave me a list of potions and vitamins that he wanted me to take. By the end of his poking and smiling, I was tired. I fell onto my bed, pulled the covers over me and went to sleep.

I woke the next morning to find that the snowstorm had finally stopped and the sun had come out. I pulled myself away from my nice warm bed to look out the window. People, dressed in bright ski gear, were bustling around carrying sleds and skis. As I watched, I saw Veld amble down the street talking to two men I recognized as Turks. He spotted me, waved, said a few words with the men, and hurried into the inn.

“I've arranged transport back to Bone Village for you.” He tossed his bright jacket into a corner. “Come get some breakfast and we'll get going.”

>00<

Davies greeted me as I came back through the village. “Vincent, good to see you.”

I was lugging my things that Veld had brought with him on the transport. I now had all kinds of useful items: clothes, warm jackets, underwear, thermal socks, body armor, a full set of mastered materia, listening devices, binoculars, extra ammo, all the happy things that would have made my life easier while hunting for Banning.

“Hi.” I stopped and caught my breath. Veld had dropped me off outside of the village not wanting to draw too much attention to my comings and goings. “How's Bettina?”

He grinned. “Beautiful. I'm thinking of proposing.”

“Lucky man.” I smiled. “A beautiful, good woman who is an excellent cook. I don't suppose she has a twin who's single?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Sorry. She's one of a kind.”

I continued dragging my stuff down the streets, occasionally waving or returning a greeting from the residents. I briefly stopped at Dmitri's and gifted him with some of my new electronic gadgets and caught up on the happenings in the village.

“The snowstorm shut down the excavations for the season. The ground's too hard to dig.” Dmitri was inspecting a small spy camera. “So, most of the research is centering on the city.”

I nodded. “Interesting.”

“Hmmm. I haven't heard much otherwise. Cooper's better and is back serving substandard coffee and Hojo's doing well.” He glanced up at me. “I've let him think that you're still in town. He doesn't know I've been the one caring for him.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

I left my things at Dmitri's and headed over to see my chick. He was sitting at the table, muttering to himself about parsley when I came in. He looked good with bright eyes and clear breathing. His nose was peeling some from all his sniffling, sneezing, and nose blowing, but it wasn't running. I looked him over carefully and nodded.

“Okay, you're better.”

He nearly flattened me on the way out the door. I went and got my things and started putting them away. I quickly realized I'd need a locked chest or something to keep inquisitive chocobos out of my ammunition, so I went back to the store. Hojo was almost racing around the village in a burst of pent up energy. He looked at the people going out sliding with envious eyes. I caught his eye and frowned. He wilted then bounced off. I got a footlocker at the store and went home. When my chick hadn't shown hide nor beak in an hour, I went after him. He was, unsurprisingly, at the bar.

I went over to him, picked up his drink and found that it was only hot cider. Just to be sure he wouldn't backslide and end up with a relapse, I decided to encourage his further exploration of sobriety.

I leaned close. “If I catch even a hint of alcohol on your breath, I'm going to tie you up and hang you upside down from the ceiling.”

He looked doubtful.

“Fine. Forget the tying. I'll just hang you from the ceiling by one foot and you can flop around there all night.”

He still looked doubtful.

“You want me to give you a demonstration?”

He shook his head and pulled his cider closer to himself.

Satisfied that I'd made sure of my chick's continued health and well being, I went back to the skull and finished putting my things away. Looking around, I realized that while I'd been gone and Hojo had been sick, the place had descended into a pit of filth, so I got out the cleaning things and got to work. I had a few things to think over anyway, like what I was going to do with my chick now that I didn't have to spend so much time hunting for a killer.

Game playing was over. I'd had my fun. I wanted more than watching him gape and blush. I wanted him. I wanted to feel his skin, taste his lips and mouth, bury myself deep in his body as he moved under me. I nearly shuddered with the need to have him.

I finished my cleaning and found my book. I sat next to the fireplace and tried to distract myself. I knew just what I was going to do. In a few hours my chick came home, happy and sober. He played with the sample, called his boss asking when the equipment he'd requested would arrive and I guessed that if Gast had any influence, which he did, it probably would never get here.

I decided to make the opening move to my game. ““If you aren't doing anything tomorrow,” I looked casually over to him as if there was nothing special about my offer. “We are going to the City of the Ancients. You might be useful.”

He didn't need to know we consisted of him and me and his most useful act would be done naked.

He nodded, his eyes looking excited. “Okay, what time?

I kept my triumph off my face. “Early.”

He smiled and bounced around, still suffering from too much energy. He gradually wound down and grabbed his coat. It was dark and cold. I could guess where he'd end up, the bar.

“Where are you going?” I used a threatening edge in my tone. I didn't want a hung over chick. I wanted him fully functional and aware tomorrow. “It's dark.”

He wilted a bit and took off his coat. “Nowhere.”

Good chick, I'd make sure he got a treat tomorrow for that. “Go to bed. We're leaving early.”

He went to bed. I stayed up reading for a bit more then went to bed too. I had lots of things to do tomorrow and I wanted to be well rested to do them.

I woke in the wee hours of the morning and spent a long time staring at the embers of the fire. It was too early to wake Hojo, but I was too excited to get any sleep. So I ran through my plans a few more times, arranged a new schedule for myself to accommodate the lack of homicidal wackos in my life, and made a few lists of things I would need if I was going to stay here longer.

It was almost dawn when I finally gave up and pulled my fledgling out of bed. He squawked and fluttered a bit, but with the promise of new, interesting places to visit, he calmed down. I bundled him up and we were out the door.

I paused at the doorstep and looked around as if expecting someone then shrugged.” “Let's not wait.” I started down the street. “It's warmer in the forest and it's not dangerous.”

We went into the forest and got rid of our jackets. I usually kept mine on, but this time I wanted as little as possible in the way of my plans. He was happy enough to drop everything in a pile near the entrance. He was looking around trying to take everything in at once. I could almost see the smoke come out his ears as his brain went into hyperdrive. I leaned back against a tree, played the harp to keep him safe, and watched him ramble around.

Yours?

Yes. Yours.

The trees whispered to each other like old aunties as he wandered beneath their branches. They seemed amused by him and I notice a branch would often shift a bit to brush against him unexpectedly, causing him to jump, or a root would catch his foot making him stumble. He'd try to break of a twig; they'd smack him. He'd look hurt and startled, and they'd laugh a leafy silent laugh.

I finally called a halt to his explorations and suggested we head down to the city. The seahorses were busy eating, so they were easy to slip by, and the monster at the top of the path was nothing a quick Swift Bolt couldn't handle. We traveled peacefully down to the city and I let him loose.

He rushed around as I wandered through the streets. I could still see what it had looked like once and now that I had time, I could start to work on fixing it. The soil seemed to be good, but I'd have to work on the irrigation system first. After I got that fixed, and I was sure it was only a fix not a construction of a whole new system, I could work on replanting.

Hojo was calming down and poking more methodically at things, so I decided to move along to the next step before he got lost in his thoughts. “There's a house over there that's quite interesting.” I pointed towards the largest of the shell houses, the one next to the lake.

He rushed off to see and I followed after him. My mind was still weaving plans. I'd have to fix the bridge and perhaps I'd fix the house too. I'd need a place to stay when I worked here too late. As we walked across the bridge, I ran my fingers over the broken railing. I'd have to fix that.

Hojo looked over his shoulder at me. I pulled my thoughts back from where they had strayed. I had a plan and I needed to keep to it.

“Did you see the fish?” I waved towards the lake.

In reality, I hadn't seen the fish either, but that didn't mean there wasn't any there. He came over and looked around with wide eyes. He wilted a second later.

“Try over there. The water's deeper.” I motioned to a place where the railing had long ago fallen away.

He zipped over there and peered intently into the water. He was such a gullible chick. I smiled fondly at his back then pulled out another Swift Bolt spell.

“Hojo! Get down!” I shoved him into the lake and tossed the spell.

He splashed in and floundered around. Chocobos aren't known as champion swimmers, but the water wasn't all that deep. I kept quiet and waited for a few moments.

“Vincent?” He whispered.

I pretended to brush myself off and came over to him. “I don't see any more, but stay put for a moment.”

He nodded, clinging to the pilings of the bridge. I walked off, nearly stomping my feet to let him know I was searching for more monsters. I wanted him good and wet. The temperature was a bit chilly, but I was going to get him out of his clothes and warm him up soon, so I wasn't too worried about his health. When I was sure was well soaked, I came back.

“All clear.”

He looked cold, so I reached down and pulled him onto the bridge. I checked around as if searching for more monsters to toss third level lightning spells at then hurried him along to the house to supposed safety.

“Get in.” I gave him a helping push towards the house.

He hurried as fast as his drenched shivering body could. I went and scouted the rest of the shell house, dropping a bottle of lube in a convenient location. We'd be using that later. I spent a few more minutes, letting the damp and cold convince him that his clothes and him would be better off parted and came back.

I came back, nodding as if I had done a through safety inspection of the house. “It's safe.”

He was leaning against the wall shivering with his arms wrapped around him. I pulled him away and turned him towards the upper level. “There's a bed up ahead with blankets. You can get out of those wet things there.”

“Clothes?” He stumbled along up the stairs.

I shrugged, “We'll have to wait till they're dry.”

When we reached the bed, he tried to wrap himself in the blanket. I pulled it out of his grasp quickly. Adding more layers was not my goal.

“Wet clothes off.” I put the blanket out of his reach and watched him pull off his sweater.

He was clumsy and when it hit the floor with a thump, he looked lost. He fumbled around trying to get his shirt over his head, but his cold fingers didn't want to cooperate with him.

“Here, let me help.” I quickly pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

He staggered back a moment and I reached out to catch him. His skin was cool and silky under my hands. I wanted to feel more. I reached down for this pants' zipper. He blushed and tried to shove my hands away.

I pretended innocence. “Stay still, the cloth's wet.”

He stuttered a bit, but I got the button loose.

“There, got it.”

The pants dropped to his ankles. All that was left was his thin cotton boxers. He tried to retreat to the bed, but I stopped him shaking my head.

“It all comes off.” I told him gleefully and before he really comprehended what I meant, his boxers were on the floor too.

I pushed him down to sit on the bed and got rid of his shoes, socks, and the accumulated clothes. I then tossed them to the other side of the room in a carefully careless gesture. I then stood up and looked him over critically. He was still damp and his lips had turned a shade of blue.

“Blue is not your color.” I pretended to think something over then settled on the bed taking my shoes and socks off. “Move over.”

His eyes got wide. His mouth fell open. He froze in place. His brain had just stalled.

I gently pushed him over, giving myself enough room to stretch out. “Hojo, you're recovering from a cold. I do not need you to catch pneumonia.”

He barely nodded as I pulled him close to me. He snuggled down quickly though and in a few minutes he was drifting off to sleep. He was still recovering and he'd had enough excitement for one day. However, I still had a few things on my to-do list.

“Hmm. This might work better if…” I yanked the blanket off him then joined him under it.

He tensed for a moment, but I pulled him back and settled him down against me. He relaxed again and began to drift off, his face pressed against my throat. As he slipped towards sleep, I slid my hands over his back, relishing the feeling of his skin. I caressed the curves of his shoulders and back and nearly jumped as his lips fluttered against my throat. I almost thought it was my imagination, or a sleepy mistake, but a second later his tongue made a soft sweep up under my jaw which ended in a kitten soft nip. This time I was the one shivering. His lips trailed down nibbling on the tendons of my throat. I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. I shivered again and moaned softly.

He blinked up at me startled.

“Yes?” I stroked up his backbone and watched his brain try to catch up to his body.

“I…uh…”

I could practically see his mind getting him into trouble. It would be just like that night I did the strip dance in front of the fire. He'd find some silly, chocobo chick way to mess this up.

“Shh… You think too much.” I rolled him over and delighted when his body spread itself under me.

I didn't let him out of that bed till the next day. He didn't complain, at least he didn't once I revealed that I'd brought some packages of nuts to eat. By the time we got back to Bone Village any thoughts in his head about finding a different lover were gone.

I was still worried though. While I seemed to fall even farther for him, he remained quite casual. For the rest of our time in Bone Village, he would eagerly join me in bed, but never seemed to really care if I was present at other times. At most, I was a fuck buddy that he could talk to and occasionally do things with when his drinking buddies were all busy. When his equipment finally came, due to President Shinra directly intervening, he rambled off and spent most of his time playing with the sample. When he did appear, he'd greet me like a half known friend and we'd spend a few minutes talking before going to bed.

It was like divine retribution. I finally fell in love, and I was the toy, desperate for a bit of attention. I was sure that the spirit of all those toys I'd played with and tossed aside without a second of regret were gathering around snickering at me. I wasn't going to give up though. We were finally called back to Midgar and I planned that once there, I would step back a bit and try doing something I had never done before, build a relationship.

My plans were blasted to pieces the moment the helicopter taking us back landed on Shinra's helipad. A pack of Turks were waiting anxiously for me. As soon as I was clear of the helicopter's blades, I was surrounded.

“Veld! He disappeared.”

“What?” My world stuttered around me. I may have been in love with Hojo, but Veld… He was my partner, my best friend, the other half of my being. I was the right hand; he was the left. I planned, he acted, and our enemies fell around us. He moved through the gutters; I raced through the rooftops hunting our prey. Yin to yang, each one of us circling forever around each other.

I rushed off, leaving my chick behind with only a few hasty orders to have him looked after. I was in Wutai hunting for Veld by that evening. It took me three months to find him, hunt down the people who had captured and tortured him, and tear a wide swath in Wutai's covert operations division.

We both stumbled back to the office, nearly dead from exhaustion, when orders landed on my desk from the president. A prostitution ring had formed and had the audacity to try to blackmail him. It had been tried before. Considering how much time he spent paying women to spread their legs, I was surprised it didn't happen far more often. Still, it was top priority and Veld and I dragged our tired selves off to find out who to put bullets in.

And that's where I found him. My chick was once again drunk and was up on a stage singing some hideous song. I was undercover, so I couldn't very well go over and demand to know what he was thinking, and as far as I knew, he probably wouldn't care if I approved or not. I sat in the back of the bar we'd tracked our targets to, and tried to ignore it when he jumped off the stage to go get fondled by a muscle bound asshole that was playing pool.

It was a good thing Veld was there. He spotted Hojo too and without missing a beat picked up when I started to get sidetracked. It wasn't too hard to do. All we were trying to do was set the lot up to be taken out in the least conspicuous way we could manage. The public tended to get antsy when we just gunned a group of people down in the great wide open of Midgar's streets.

“…take the cut.” One greasy individual eyed me suspiciously, causing me to wrench my attention away from my chick.

Veld shrugged. “All we want is an agreement.” He spread his hands looking as forthright as street scum could get. “We have our girls; you have your girls. There's plenty of business for both. We just want to make sure our girls aren't roughed over and you don't want your girls to get it either. The only problem would be if a third party tries to move in. That would cut into the supply of customers.”

The businessman approach. It was a nice one and Veld was a master of it. He'd give the scum the ego pat of being seen as intelligent entrepreneurs, and they'd get all sly, believing they were actually intelligent. They'd start plotting and planning, probably about how they could steal our girls, or push us out of business by waging street warfare, and all the while Veld would be after something else, erasing them off the surface of the Planet as fast as possible, preferably in the next ten minutes. Veld tended to get to the point quickly when he was tired.

A sudden commotion caught everyone's attention. The pimps grinned and laughed diverting their attention from the business in front of them for the thrill of an erupting fight. Veld and I moved. The would be entrepreneurs died in seconds, sprawled with bullet holes neatly over their hearts. The commotion intensified into an all out bar fight. Veld and the other Turks we'd brought pulled the bodies out of the booth, tossed them on the floor then waded into the fight.

Even while I was pleased with neat, fast conclusion of our investigation, I was terrified. Bar fights were wildly unpredictable and dangerous, even for Turks. This fight had broken out right where my chick had been when I'd last seen him. I waded into the fight looking for him. I could occasionally hear gunfire, but recognized the sounds as coming from Turk standard issue firearms. Veld was covering the killings with a few more senseless bullet wounds to random people.

I found my chick laying on the floor being trampled. People were already fleeing from the bar. It was one thing to work out drunken aggression in a physical altercation, but when people started firing guns, sobriety hit fast. I hauled Hojo off the floor and dragged him back to the table.

The rookie that I'd ordered to keep an eye on him shuffled over.

“I thought I told you to keep an eye on him.” I was so angry that I could barely talk.

He squirmed in place and came up with some stupid excuses as I tried to clean the blood off my chick's face with a bar towel. The rookie however only dug his grave deeper telling me just how long he'd goofed off while he should have been carefully watching over my lover. I decided to send him home to let him think over his career choice by using him for target practice. Once he escaped, I turned to the others.

They had good excuses. Hojo even emerged from his towel to come up with one, which I didn't appreciate and shoved the towel back on his face to keep him quiet.

I dragged my now semi-sober chick out of the bar, to my car, and home. For three months, I'd planned on coming home and wooing my hatchling. I was going to take him out to dinners, movies, plays, and night clubs. I was going to sit in cozy bistros and talk to him about things that interested him. I was going to get him to fall in love with me as I had fallen in love with him. What I had found was that he'd replaced me. I was really nothing to him. Just a toy. Now that he was home from Bone Village, he went and found another toy to play with tossing me aside. I supposed that if I had stayed around, he might not have done it. We could have continued the way we were before, fuck buddies with an occasional conversation or outing to pretend there was something more between us. As pathetic as it was, I would have been content if that was all I could've had.

When we pulled up to his apartment, I nearly shoved him out the door. He wobbled pathetically up the walkway, dripping blood from his head wound. As he tried to stumble up the steps to his apartment, I realized he'd probably collapse and fall down them, hurting himself more.

Stupid chick.

I got out of the car and went after him.

“I can't leave you for a second, can I?” I hauled him up the stairs and started digging for the keys in his pocket. “I'm gone…What? Three whole months?... and you're dunk, beaten, and sleeping with some blond asshole.”

He wobbled as I unlocked his door, only staying on his feet because I was holding him up.

“Tell me, did you fuck him here?” I opened the door and shoved him in.

“No.” He collapsed on the couch. “If you must know it happened twice, he was lousy, and we did it in that hotel on Junon Street, that has the pink roses. He didn't have any diseases and still doesn't. I checked. We also used condoms. Do you want to know the positions too?”

Smartass chick.

I stormed off to another room trying to calm down. I found myself in his bedroom and glared at the bed. Well, he hadn't fucked the other man here, but the thought of that blond sliding himself into my chick made me sick. I'd have to explain to the ass just how wrong he'd been to touch what wasn't his. Not that Hojo was mine, but it was the principle of the thing.

I heard him moan from the front room and went back to check on him. I walked over quietly and looked down at him. He was a mess. His eyes were swelling, he had a cut over his left eye that was still bleeding, and he had bruises on his cheek and along his jaw. I could tell from the way he was holding himself and his breathing that he had taken a few blows to the torso as well.

“Couldn't you pick someone who'd look after you?” I shook my head and ran an aggravated hand through my hair.

“I chose on physical appearance. He was the least like you I could find at short notice for a rebound.” He looked away.

I guess I was supposed to feel better that he'd chosen to let the blond fuck him because he missed me. I didn't. I growled to myself and stormed back to the bedroom. I spent a few moments pacing around the foot of his bed then went back out.

“I was only gone for three months.” I felt like I was sulking.

“You were the one to walk away. I didn't even get a wave goodbye.” He closed his eyes refusing to look at me.

I frowned and retreated to the bedroom. That was true. I had walked away. I had run after Veld, leaving my chick alone without even a kiss goodbye. From his point of view, I was the louse. I'd spent months with him in Bone Village then suddenly turned away from him without even a glance back.

I went back to the living room and looked down at him. “I was busy.”

“A memo would have been nice.” His voice was whispery with pain.

He tried to use his foot to pull the blanket that was draped over the foot of the couch up and made a sharp cry of pain as he jounced his body. I reached down, gathered up the blanket, and spread it over him.

“Not allowed.” I told him.

He frowned to himself and I wandered off to his bathroom. I was sure he still had some of the pain killers the doctor had prescribed to him stashed away somewhere. He was a bit of a pack rat when it came to anything to do with chemicals.

When I finally found them, tucked behind a bottle of crystallized mouthwash, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. He was still laying on the couch trying to find a painless position when I came back in.

“Sorry. I didn't realize. I thought that once we got back, you just went back to your own life and didn't care.” He whispered as I walked around the couch.

“I care. Here, take these.” I knelt down next to him so I would be on his level.

He opened his eyes and looked at me for a moment then smiled. I got him to take the medicine then left him again. I checked the kitchen for some ice, but his freezer was packed full of food containers and didn't have even a single ice tray in it. I scouted around his bathroom for a bit and only came up with a fossilized hot water bottle and a small bottle of iodine.

I was just wondering if I should go locate a pharmacy and an ice machine when my cell phone rang.

“Where the fuck are you?” Veld snarled. “I've got the president screaming about excessive use of force and public relations disasters.

I went out to check on my chick, but he was out cold. “I'm on my way.”

I made a quick list of things I'd need for Hojo and went off to deflect as much damage as possible from the Turks and onto the local police department. I figured they owed us for all the drug pushers, pimps, and other lowlifes we culled out of the cesspool of Midgar. The least they could do was occasionally take some flak for us.

The president wasn't so much worried, I found out, about the dead pimps. He seemed rather pleased over that. It was the property damage to the bar that had him in a tizzy. I made soothing sounds, explained how the assistant-director to the Research and Development department had been dragged into the middle of a dangerous bar fight and force had to be used to get him to safety. I waxed a bit eloquent about how police patrols in the area had declined and how the crime levels had started rising. I described how petty thugs were running the streets in that neighborhood due to police negligence and sang a few lines about the horror that innocent civilians had to face just walking home, never mind stopping in a bar for a drink and a bit of socializing, after spending all day laboring for Shinra's glory.

He swallowed it all and by the time I left was on the phone to the police chief threatening to cut off Shinra's rather hefty support if he didn't clean up that neighborhood. After all, his poor, overworked Turks couldn't do everything. And to think, one of his top scientists, one of his best and brightest had been injured because of their incompetence. It was sheer luck that the Turks had been there to protect him and keep the situation from escalating out of control.

There were times I loved that man. He knew a PR campaign a mile off and could exploit it to the fullest. I fully expected that the PR department would spin doctor the whole thing into heroic Turks wading into a dangerous situation, endangering themselves to preserve the peace and welfare of Midgar. Yet another shining chapter to Shinra's Fight Against Crime.

I dragged myself to the nearest drug store, bought some bandages, antibiotic ointment, a potion, and hydrogen peroxide to take care of my chick. I also spent a few happy moments on the phone with the Turk's private physician having him call in a prescription for pain medication to the pharmacist and getting advice on what to do with Hojo.

I barely managed to get my tired feet up the stairs to Hojo's apartment. He was still sleeping peacefully on the couch. I checked him over then went to the bedroom and turned down the blankets. He'd be more comfortable sleeping in a bed than on that narrow couch. It nearly brought me to the floor, but I managed to pick him up without waking him, and bring him into the bedroom. I stripped him carefully and winced at the damage he'd taken.

His ribs were broken with a large dark bruise already spreading itself across his ribcage. There were bruises to his back, pelvis, and legs, but few on his stomach. He'd probably curled into a ball or fallen face down when he was hit. There were a few scrapes on his arms and face, but nothing serious. I washed them all carefully and put some ointment on them.

When I was sure they were all clean, I managed to wake him up enough to pour a potion down his throat. While it wouldn't do much for the bruising, it would deal with the ribs and any internal injuries he might have. I then maneuvered him into his favorite tee shirt and flannel shorts and tucked him under the blankets.

I shucked off my own clothes, made sure the apartment was as secure as possible, tucked Quicksilver under my pillow just in case, and collapsed into bed next to Hojo.

The next morning I woke to find that I'd wrapped myself around him in the night. He was cradled against me with his head on my shoulder and his legs tangled with mine. He was trying to get up with as little pain as possible and finding that any movement was to be avoided. I shifted myself carefully placing one hand on his hip to keep him in place and kissed the one spot that didn't seem to have a cut, bruise, or scrape on it, his temple.

“Go back to sleep. No one is expecting you to be anywhere today.” By now Hojo had probably been promoted to a martyr who bravely suffered untold horrors due to police incompetence.

He settled back and quit trying to move about. I made a move to untangle myself and get out of bed, but he caught my hand, holding it against the hip it was laying on.

“You too. You're tired.”

He was right, even after a night of sleep, I was barely functional. I gave him another kiss and slipped away. “I'll be back by noon. Now, sleep and I'll leave breakfast on the bedside table. I don't want you out of bed today.”

I went and took a cold shower, hoping to wake up, went out and got the paper, and found that the bar fight had made the front page under the banner of Police Corruption Probe. I read it as I fixed breakfast for me and Hojo. The president, or the PR department, had done a brilliant job of spinning the incident. The police were accused of taking bribes to allow organized crime to flourish in some of the less affluent neighborhoods. This was only uncovered when a scientist, who's name wasn't released to protect him from police retribution, was attacked in a neighborhood bar when he'd gone in there searching for a functioning payphone. Thugs had tried to mug the helpless, innocent scientist, and when the honest citizens of that benighted place dared to intervene, a violent, deadly fight had broken out. Only prompt action by a group of off duty Turks had prevented the altercation from turning into a riot that would have jeopardized the homes and businesses of the upstanding, hard working folks that had been living in terror in that poor, tragic, forgotten neighborhood.

It's always nice to begin the day with a laugh.

I brought Hojo his breakfast and medicine. He was still awake so I gave him his drugs, left his breakfast on the bedside stand, and tucked the blankets around him. I crept out of the apartment and down the stairs, telling myself I'd be back by noontime at the latest.

Veld was still out when I arrived in the office. I had a message from the president requesting that I prepare a written report of the near tragedy in the bar so that the PR department could field any questions that might be asked during a press conference that had been called that afternoon so that Shinra could once again express its support for the people of Midgar, bravely stand behind the faltering police department, and reiterate its Fight Against Crime. There was also a second memo telling me to make plans to absorb the Midgar police into the Turks in the near future.

I spent the rest of the day playing politician and cursing Veld. Politics was his area and not once did he show up. I tried to call on his cell, but he only grunted a few curses at me and hung up.

I managed to drag my near dead self back up the stairs to Hojo's around sunset. I tried to be quiet and not wake him as I slipped in the door and went down to his room. I must have been louder than I thought since he was looking at me blearily when I came in.

He looked better. He wasn't wincing in pain and his color had gone from ashen gray to a healthy cream tone. He still had some extensive bruising on his face, and he was favoring one arm slightly, but his breathing was smooth and even.

“Better.” I told him, trying to figure out what food I could feed him quickly so I could fall into bed.

He shook his head at me and patted the space next to him. “Get some sleep. You're tired.”

I shook my head back, feeling the world wobble slightly when I did. He needed to eat. “Dinner.”

He patted the bed again. “Come on. There's food in the freezer. I feel good enough to put things into the microwave.”

He has a microwave? Oh, yes, now I remember. I stumbled to the bed and collapsed.

I woke up suddenly hearing a tea kettle. For a disoriented moment, I was back in Bone Village and Banning was running free planning to kill my fledgling. I startled out of bed and found myself in Midgar. Traffic was whizzing past on the street below. The little girl from down stairs was singing. Instead of the domed roof of a skull, a plaster ceiling stretched above me. I could hear some soft rustling from the kitchen so I went that way.

He was just uncovering a fragrant plate of sweet and sour pork when I slumped in to lean against the door. There were other plates scattered on the counter: chicken and snow peas, fried rice with tiny shrimp, stuffed crab, and a bowl of hot and sour soup. It smelled heavenly.

“Where?” I wondered for a moment if this was frozen take out from a date with the blond.

“My mother sends me food every week.” He looked embarrassed.

I smiled. His mother was a good woman. A good mother. I loved her already.

We ate at the tiny dining room table then went back to bed. My sweet chick nestled himself against me and I fell asleep realizing that for the first time in a long, long time I wasn't just sleeping in a bed, I was sleeping at home.