Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Who's John ShinRa? ❯ Between a Rock and a Hard Place ( Chapter 18 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Note: I do not own Final Fantasy VII.

Chapter 18: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

All her thoughts and emotions were numb as two words echoed through her senses. She couldn't feel anything; couldn't breathe. She could only hear those taunting words `he's dead,' reverberate through her ears knocking her off balance. She didn't want to believe that the man she married, the father of her child, was lying lifeless in a pool of his own blood. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but now that chance was gone.

Everything was a blur. She could feel someone's warm hands wrapped around her: comforting her. He smelled so familiar, like a particular after-shave that she had given Reeve one Christmas. The scent was refreshing and soothing as if Reeve's ghost had come to give her one last good-bye. If it was Reeve's ghost haunting her in his first seconds of death, then she wished that he would haunt her for eternity. She thought that if she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could hear him calling her name.

“Mel!”

He even called her by her nickname. The one he gave to her when they first started dating after meeting each other in college.

“Mel!”

She heard her name again and smiled. She wondered for a moment if ghosts could hear.

“Reeve?”

“Mel, it's me. Open your eyes!”

She was confused. Open my eyes? She didn't know why she needed to. The illusion was perfect with her eyes closed. She wasn't sure what she would see if she opened them. Would Reeve be there smiling at her with a halo over his head and angel wings? She was curious and so without any hesitation, she slowly fluttered her eyes open and let the light fill her senses.

“Mel! Look at me. I'm here. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay.”

“Reeve? Are you . . . real?”

“Yes, I'm real. I'm as real as you are; flesh and bones.”

Melissa hesitated as she reached her hand up to touch his face. His warm blush could be felt through her fingertips as she cupped his cheek and stared back to see the tender look in his eyes. He was alive!

“Oh, Reeve! I thought you were dead!” Melissa sobbed as she threw herself into his arms.

“I can't die yet. Not without fulfilling my promise to you and Sara,” Reeve whispered softly as he smoothed his hand over her hair.

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did.”

Melissa smiled as she cried on Reeve's shoulder. She felt like a fool for not noticing who was trying to hold her back from the chaos while she charged head first into danger. The tearful reunion wasn't exactly the way she imagined, but after getting married and having children, the unexpected was something that always happened regardless of how much you prepared.

“I'd hate to break-up the touching scene, but this ain't exactly the safest place to kiss and make-up,” Reno's voice cut through the air.

“Reno's right, we've got to get out of here. Are you ready?”

Melissa merely nodded as she wiped away her tears. Reeve flashed her a soft smile as he reflexively took her hand and led her back toward the President's Office. Melissa blushed as she felt her fingers intertwined with his. She knew that he could feel her wedding band as he grasped her hand firmly as if she were the most precious thing in the world and for the time being, she felt like she was.

She did feel a bit self-conscious walking hand in hand with her husband whom she hadn't really seen or talked to in a year. They were supposed to be separated, but so many things have happened in the past few days she wasn't sure what she wanted anymore. She also didn't know what Reeve wanted whether he still wanted to be separated or if he was ready to start over again. A part of her hoped for the later and with that romantic inclination, she squeezed his hand just a little harder as they walked side-by-side.

The first thing Reeve saw when he entered the President's Office was a happy seven-year old girl with bouncy brown hair run up to him. It didn't matter that Elena and Rude were ready to draw their weapons at a moment's notice or that ShinRa soldiers were lined up in the office protecting him. What mattered was that he and his family were safe and back together again. The world could have fallen apart or another Sephiroth could have been born, but none of that would have mattered to Reeve because the hazel eyes and joyous smiles of his family were the only things he cared about right now.

“Daddy!”

“Hey there princess! Have you been a good girl with Mommy?” Reeve bent down to lift his daughter up.

“Uh-huh. Mommy and I made some cookies for you. Auntie Elena helped me draw a picture and Uncle Rude is fixing Kate Sith,” the girl said with a toothy grin.

“Really? I'll have to see what Uncle Rude is doing to Kate Sith later and how she got broken,” Reeve taunted.

Sara merely giggled as she covered her mouth as if she said too much. “But do you want cookies Daddy? They're really yummy!”

“Of course Daddy wants cookies!”

Melissa watched with amusement as she saw Reeve sit down in his blue business suit and open up the container filled with cookies. She watched as he doted on his daughter and let her plop a cookie into his mouth. She knew that he probably had work to do as the President and meetings to attend. Elena and Rude had already warned her that she might not have much time to speak to Reeve once he arrived because of his position, but there he was sitting on the nice plush carpet eating cookies with his daughter. They both looked like they didn't have a care in the world.

For a moment, Melissa was almost fooled by that illusion as she continued to watch her husband play with her daughter. She knew how the world was practically on Reeve's shoulders. She knew that he had a lot of responsibilities to uphold and probably didn't need to be held up by Sara and herself. But despite that he was there sitting with his daughter and biding his time eating cookies like a good father. It was a touching scene she never imagined would unfold under these dire circumstances. Melissa wanted nothing more than to stop time in its tracks and watch the interaction between father and daughter.

“Mommy, we only have two cookies left,” Sara gazed at her mother questioningly.

“Oh no! I guess we're going to have to make some more for Daddy, aren't we?” Melissa kneeled beside her daughter as she stroked her hair.

“Daddy, eat the last two cookies. Mommy and I can make some more,” Sara insisted as she tugged on her father's sleeve.

“Whatever you say princess,” Reeve smiled as he turned to Melissa. “The cookies are delicious.”

Melissa whispered a `thank you' to Reeve as she stroked her daughter's hair. A flash of gold caught her eye as she suddenly noticed the gold band worn on his left hand as he reached for the last cookies. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as she held her hand close to her chest. Does he still love me after all this time? She missed being a family with Reeve by her side. Watching him brought back feelings of nostalgia she had forgotten were so pure and blissful. Now she wished for things to move forward so she could make amends with the man she fell in love with and probably still loved.

* * *

Cid and Barret shifted their gaze from the blueprints of Old Midgar to the map of the Mythril Mines as they gazed back and forth between the wall and Thomas with headlamps strapped to their heads. Barret tapped the rock with his metal arm and rub his chin pensively with his good hand. Cid was fiddling with a pencil in his mouth, desperately craving a cigarette he couldn't have because of Barret's warning about possible flammable gases in the mines. Cid thought it was a ploy to get him to quit smoking, but the pilot didn't want to take any chances.

“You sure this is it?” Cid asked as he looked at the wall.

“According to the map, I'm positive,” Thomas sighed.

A few miners chuckled as they watched Cid and Barret grill the young executive. Thomas tried his best to look confident, but he wasn't accustomed to convincing anyone of his architectural skills. He didn't think that they could read blueprints, but he learned quickly that there was more to Cid Highwind and Barret Wallace than he could fathom.

“I don't know, if we're supposed to dig here, it's gonna take a lot of work. That there is solid Mythril: harder than rock and stronger than steel,” Barret said as he tapped the wall.

“Yeah, but it'll pay for a week's worth of food and a night's worth of beer!” a random miner yelled.

This elicited a few cheers as the miners didn't seem to mind raking in a bit if extra money while helping out the greater cause.

Cid ignored the miners as he looked at the wall curiously, “Hey Red! Can you sniff this hunk of rock out and see if it jives with what the kid is sayin'?”

“It's difficult to tell what is beyond this slab of mythril, I can't quite smell anything because of the metal. There is something I sense, but I can't quite describe the smell. It's almost like the smell of a Midgar Zolem,” Nanaki answered uneasily.

“Midgar Zolem? You coulda told me you smelled ass for all I care as long as there's something behind there, we're diggin'. Barret, what do those rugrats behind us gotta do before we dig a hole in this motherfucker?”

“Well, since we're dealing with mythril, I'd say we'd better dig around it. Rock is gonna be easier to dig and besides, mythril is better to sell in larger chunks than small pieces,” Barret said as he rubbed the mythril.

“What's your assessment kid? That sound okay to you?”

Thomas quickly looked at the map to the mines as he formulated his answer, “If we dig at a forty-five degree angle and hoping that the mythril slab isn't large enough to extend well into Old Midgar, we should be fine Mr. Highwind.”

“Ya hear that Barret? Let's hit this shit!”

“Now that's what I'm talking about! Move on in now boys, you know what to do,” Barret yelled back at the miners. “Remember, try not to scratch the goods, it ain't precious if it's got scratches.”

“Wait Captain! I have a funny feeling about this spot,” Shera's voice echoed above the murmur of the miners.

“Something funny? What the fuck's so funny about this spot?”

“It doesn't seem right. The angle at which this wall is facing doesn't look like it faces Midgar to me. Also, what Nanaki smelled doesn't sound like the inner workings of an underground city, but something else . . . like a pocket of gas.”

A few hushed whispers flew around the cave as miners stared wide-eyed at the wall as the words `invisible death' and `poison' permeated through everyone's ears.

“Shera's got a point there. We don' wanna hit no gas pocket otherwise this shit will poison us or worse, blow-up,” Barret spoke with concern.

“But according to these maps, that should be the spot where we dig,” Thomas pointed to the wall.

“I know that's what your calculations say, but it bothers me that this slab of mythril hasn't been mined out of this wall. You would think that someone would have already taken this slab of metal since it's in one of the main crossroads of this mine, but it's untouched. That doesn't seem right to me. Its as if the miners knew that it was too dangerous to dig it out,” Shera pondered.

“I don't know why the miners haven't dug out the mythril here, but I've checked my work several times and this is the spot I get.”

“Shera, double-check the kid's work. Tell me what you think.”

“Right away, Captain.”

Shera quickly adjusted her glasses as she took the maps from the reluctant Thomas. The female engineer flipped back and forth between the two maps as she scratched her head every now and then. Everyone eyed Shera anxiously as she continued to stare at the maps and then at the walls of the mine.

Private Pete leaned over to Thomas as they both watched Shera work, “you sure you have the right spot?”

“I'm positive. I don't know what the big deal is.”

Shera fiddled through her pockets and pulled out a pencil as she jot down a few numbers on a scrap piece of paper. After checking and then double-checking her work, she then proceeded to draw and `x' on the map of the mines. Shera made one more check before she finally handed the maps back to Thomas.

“There. This is where we should dig,” Shera pointed at the `x.'

Thomas looked at the spot and scrunched his brow in confusion.

“This spot is a hundred yards away! How did you calculate this?”

“Well, I was looking at the blueprint of Old Midgar and noticed . . . ,” Shera timidly rested her finger on a spot on the blueprint. “I noticed that the scale looked slightly off and realized that the scale used in making these blueprints was the type of scale utilized over a hundred years ago. It's not the same scale that we use in our modern techniques so I had to do a few conversions to make sure that everything was uniform. Essentially, the spot you picked out had the wrong scale to it so it was wrong.”

Thomas looked at the calculations Shera did and then looked back at Shera before falling down on his knees in a defeated slump. Everyone looked at him with concern as Shera knelt beside him trying to see if the young executive was okay.

“It was just a common mistake really, we at least caught it before it was too late,” Shera tried to reassure him.

“Yeah, don't worry about it buddy, we know where we need to dig now and that's all that matters,” Pete said as he put a hand on Thomas's shoulder.

“I am such a dumbass,” Thomas shook his head as he stood back up. “I owe you an apology Ms. Shera.”

“Just Shera is fine, thanks. And your apology is accepted.”

“Hey, kid! Are Shera's calculations good?”

“Yes they are Mr. Highwind. We should move further down in the mine if we want to be at the right spot.”

“Alright, you heard the man, let's roll!” Cid motioned with his hands.

Everyone began to make the short trek further down the tunnel to reach the spot Shera marked on the map. Shera felt proud that she had helped divert a major mistake, but slightly embarrassed that it cost the pride of the young executive from Midgar. As she stole a glance over to Cid before moving the digging machine they had constructed, she couldn't help but catch him wink at her as if he was also proud of her. Shera was thankful that she was actually doing the right thing this time around rather than messing everything up. Maybe her luck had changed for the better and Cid would notice her? One thing at a time Shera; first, let's get the Captain's respect then we'll think about him romancing you, as if that'll ever happen.

Private Pete shuffled along with the rest of the crew as Thomas buried himself in the maps checking and double-checking Shera's work. The buzz of his radio drew his attention to the device clipped to his belt.

“Private Pete reporting.”

“Private Pete, this is General Matthews in Junon. Is Mr. Wheeler still with you?”

“Yes he is sir!” Pete said with authority.

“Good. I want you to keep him in your sights at all times. Keep this confidential, but there was an assassination attempt on President Reeve earlier this morning and we think that Thomas Wheeler along with Eric Rivers and Chris Johnson are all targets.”

“Is the President alright?” Pete whispered.

“Yes he is. Though one brave soldier who honorably took the bullet for the President didn't make it. We haven't caught the assassin yet so be on alert and make sure you don't lose sight of Mr. Wheeler.”

“I'll stick to him like glue General, sir.”

“Good, and report if you notice anything suspicious. In the meantime you are assigned to remain with Mr. Wheeler until further notice.”

“Understood. I won't disappoint you, sir!”

“I certainly won't tolerate failure. General Matthews out.”

Pete put the radio back on his belt as he quickened his pace to catch up with Thomas. He eyed everyone around him to see if there was any suspicious miner who was actually an assassin in disguise. Pete's job had suddenly gotten more interesting as he unconsciously grinned. Thomas was still working on reading the map to determine where the new spot was located and completely ignored the things around him. He's lucky to have me around, who knows where danger is lurking.

“Hey Thomas, guess what?”

“What's up Pete?”

“I'm going to stick by you as if you were my new girlfriend,” Pete with a little too much enthusiasm.

Thomas blinked as he tried to process what Pete said, “That's great Pete. Thanks, I guess.”

“Come on buddy, let's work on trying to find where the `x' marks the spot,” Pete put his arm around Thomas.

The young executive nervously continued his walk as he stared at Pete's arm as if it were a spider on his shoulder. What did I get myself into? He sighed as he continued to follow the map and then finally found the right spot where they should begin digging.

“Ok, now this is definitely it!”

“That's what you said last time kid. Shera!” Cid pointed at the map.

The mousy woman adjusted the light on her headband and glanced back and forth between the map and the wall several times before nodding her head in agreement.

“This is it Captain!”

“Good job you two. This wall looks like it'll be easier to dig up than the last one. Hey, kid! Mark up the wall to show where we can dig and how wide this tunnel needs to be. Shera, get that damn machine up here.”

Pete stifled an amused chuckle as he watched Thomas frantically crunching numbers and measuring the wall to mark the width of the tunnel. It was as equally amusing watching the small-framed woman pulling the white sheet off of a large machine with numerous pick-axes attached to the front of it. The machine resembled a metallic praying mantic with too many arms. The miners all looked at the machine with mild confusion and ridicule. It was the most repulsive thing to have entered the mines and everyone laughed in agreement.

“What in the hell is that piece of shit?” a hefty miner named Dirk shouted.

“That, my meat-headed friend, is a device that's gonna help dig,” Cid said as he glared at the larger man.

Dirk looked up and down at the machine scrutinizing the contraption, “You saying that this hunk of junk can work better than any of us men here?”

“I ain't saying it's better, just faster. We gotta deadline and if you can't get it through your egotistical fat head that there are lives to save, than you better start using that tiny brain of yours and consider it,” Cid jabbed his finger into Dirk's chest.

Shera watched the exchange with nervous anger. She and Cid had worked almost all night trying to make the machine so there was a guarantee that they could make the dig to Old Midgar as quickly as possible. The invention was Cid's idea and Shera hated hearing the insults the large miner was throwing at him.

“Listen, Highwind. You don't know jack-shit about mining and though Wallace used to be a miner, he's never mined here before. I know these mines like the back of my hand and that crap you pieced together and call a machine probably won't work two seconds in this mine,” Dirk seethed as he kicked the machine.

That had been Shera's last straw. She was used to abuse and verbal onslaughts by Cid. But no one had the right to abuse her Captain or what he worked so hard to create. So with a simple push of a button, Cid's invention came to life as the back end of one of the pick-axes rose up reducing Dirk to a lump of curses and pain. All the men in the mine reflexively reached for their own crotches after watching Dirk's attack by the hideous machine.

“Shera! What the fuck did you have to go and do that for?” Cid said, still wincing from Dirk's unfortunate attack.

“But Captain, he was insulting you and holding up the dig,” Shera paled.

“Damnit Shera, all men are joined through the testes!”

She knew that she had messed up again. It always happened and Shera was always the one at fault for trying to do her best, but falling short of being entirely successful. Tears threatened to spill, but Shera sniffed them back knowing that crying would only make the situation worse.

“I'm sorry Captain. I'll just take my leave and let you all do your work.”

Cid watched almost helplessly as Shera pushed past the hefty miners and volunteers as the last flutter of her white lab-coat disappeared into the crowd. His shin still bore the bruise Tifa had given him when she threatened him to be nicer to Shera and he was trying, but his own pig-headed nature sometimes got the best of him. Cid Highwind knew that if he let Shera run off without apologizing and if Tifa were to hear any wind of that, he would have more than a simple bruise on his shin.

“Barret, take over and get these guys started on the dig. Also, get that guy over there some ice, he's gonna need it,” Cid shouted before he ran after Shera.

The light on his headband bounced at an uneasy pace, matching the mood of Cid as he ran past miners. Shera had a lead on him, but he knew he could catch up and he had to if he was going to find her and apologize. He also knew that she was probably going to rant about how it was all her fault so Cid was ready to say `I'm sorry' and `It's not your fault,' more times than he ever has in his lifetime.

The bobbing ray of light finally caught the white glare off of Shera's lab-coat. Cid inched forward pushing and shoving miners aside, ignoring the curses that were flown at him. If it were another time, another Cid, he would have let her run off and paid no mind to the slow emotional deterioration of his faithful mechanic. But barely saving the world from destruction had changed him and Cid knew that time was a precious commodity that you had to treasure before it slipped through your fingers.

“Shera!”

The woman still ran as if she didn't hear his shouts.

“Shera, slow down woman!”

She didn't have to slow down as her own clumsiness finally caught up with her and she tripped falling down in a heap of tears. She didn't notice when she had finally ran far enough out of the mines where there were no more miners or volunteers lining the tunnel walls. She also didn't notice the familiar scent of cigarette smoke or the calloused hand gently resting on her shoulder.

When she finally did notice, her body tensed in anticipation of the angry words that she was accustomed to hearing. Why did you follow me? Why can't I ever be good enough for you? She didn't want to turn around and face him yet. Cid was the only man who could reduce her to an emotional mess because of the mistakes she made in extinguishing his dream. But what about my dream? Was it too much to ask for one compliment or even a pat on the back from the man she admired?

“Shera, you alright?”

Shera nodded her head, not wanting to turn around and have him see her in a moment of weakness. She knew the Captain hated sissies who couldn't take constructive criticism, albeit Cid's comments were more criticism than constructive.

“Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you.”

Shera blinked and turned to face Cid wondering if she really heard him correctly.

“It wasn't your fault for what happened. The guy had it coming and you did what you had to do. I'm not saying it was the best thing, but he needed to shut-up,” Cid said gruffly.

“Thanks, but I know I should have stayed at Elmyra's house like you suggested this morning. You could have handled it without me. It was my fault Captain.”

Good job Highwind, way to sound sincere, Cid thought as he tried to retrain himself from shaking Shera and repeating how he was sorry until she accepted it.

“No, Shera, nothing was your fault. Everything you've ever done since I hired you has been right. None of us are perfect and I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to ya,” Cid said as slowly and softly as possible.

Shera held her breath and swore that she must have been dreaming. Cid Highwind, her Cid, was sincerely apologizing to her.

“I was wrong Shera. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can. I never thought you could forgive me though,” Shera said shakily.

“There's nothing you need to be forgiven for cause you were right. I'm just a poor fool who can't take the blame for anything.”

“You're not a fool Cid . . . . I mean Captain.”

“Cid's fine Shera. You've known me long enough to call me by my first name.”

“Um, alright . . . Cid. I've just gotten used to calling you Captain all those years.”

“All those years, huh?” Cid silently mused. “How long have you been my mechanic?” How long have I treated you like shit?

“Five years,” Shera said meekly. Five years of wanting something more from you than you would ever be willing to offer.

“You've been with me for five years and all that time I've given you nothing but hell. Anyone else would have left me by now. Why did you stay?” Why did it take me five fucking years to notice that there's a good lookin' gal behind that white coat and glasses.

Shera didn't want to tell him the truth, but she wasn't a good liar either, “Because I felt obligated.”

“Obligated to what? I know your hiding something from me. Just tell me, I won't bite your head off if you tell the truth,” Cid said trying his best not to raise his voice like he usually would.

“I was obligated to you because of what I did. I destroyed your dream.”

“You didn't destroy it Shera, I did,” Cid said sadly.

“No, I was the one that made you—”

“Shera listen! If you hadn't tried to fix tank No. 8, I would have flown up into the sky foolishly and probably would have blown my sorry arrogant ass up to smithereens. I hate to admit it but you were right the entire time: tank No. 8, the mission, everything. I couldn't have fulfilled my dream dead. Shera, you . . .you saved my life and my dream. I just never had the courage to admit that until now . . . and I'm sorry.”

“Cid,” Shera sobbed.

It was the first time she felt proud of her actions and that fateful decision to correct tank No. 8. She didn't feel any hesitation from Cid when she put her arms around him in a tearful hug. Everything felt better in his strong grasp that she wished she could hug him like this all the time. But Shera knew that Cid was only forgiving her, not confessing pent up feelings of love and affection. She doubted that it would ever happen, but then she doubted he could ever forgive her for destroying his dream. A small seed of hope was planted in Shera's heart as she held her Captain close to her.

“You think you can get back to work on the machine, or do you want to head on back to Elmyra's?”

“Do you want me to stay?” Shera sniffed.

“Only if you want to.”

“Yes, I want to stay here with you and see this through until the end. I'm not going to leave your side unless you want me to.”

“That's my girl,” Cid smiled as he wiped away a few stray tears. “Come on, let's get you off of the ground.”

With Cid's help, Shera got back on her feet and tried to compose herself, dabbing away at her red swollen eyes. She didn't want to make it obvious she had been crying. There was no room for that when she had to prove herself and their invention to a group of experienced miners. If she hadn't had Cid's support, she probably would have run off back to Elmyra's. However, her Captain was there by her side and she knew he was going to fight for her. There was nothing to fear anymore. Now if I can just find the courage to tell him how I feel.

Cid waited until Shera was ready to head back down into the mine. She was a much stronger woman than she gave herself credit for and Cid was amazed he hadn't realized this before. Cid really regretted all those years of ignoring and ridiculing her because Shera was a wonderful woman.

“You know, you're an alright girl Shera.”

“Thank you, Cid. You're not so bad yourself,” Shera blushed.

Cid's lips tugged up into a wry smile at the comment as he stood watching Shera adjust her glasses. It felt nice being complimented by an intelligent woman who was beautiful in her own special way.

The sound of laughter echoed through the mines as Cid wondered what Barret was doing with the miners. It wasn't until he heard the sounds of people mocking kissing noises that he realized his conversation with Shera had echoed through the entire mine.

“Goddamn maggots!” Cid cursed as he gazed down the mine.

“We hear ya Highwind! Now get on over here after yer down with the kiss an' make-up,” Barret's voice bounced off the walls.

“Come on, Shera. Let's whip those fuckers into shape!”

“Yes, sir!” Shera beamed.

She kept up with Cid's brisk pace keeping her head up as she brushed past the inquisitive stares of the miners. For the first time in her life, Shera was going to be working with Cid rather than fighting an emotional battle against him. Things were going to be all right from this day forward and Shera was glad to be by her Captain for it all.

* * *

The morning sun rose once more over Fort Condor, but this time rising to the somber mood of mourning. Three travelers could be seen biding hesitant good-byes to the victims of yesterday's attack. They were originally reluctant to leave, but the thought of Chaos doing this to another town was enough conviction for them to continue their journey.

“So are we headed up to Junon next?” Yuffie asked Tifa.

“No, we're going to Costa Del Sol.”

“You mean the resort town Costa Del Sol?” Rufus intervened.

“Yes. Chaos was headed west last time we saw him and if he were in Junon, the ShinRa army has enough guns and ammunition to take care of him. Costa Del Sol

doesn't have that sort of manpower so that's where we're going.”

Rufus raised his eyebrows in surprise and admiration for Tifa's leadership skills. He didn't think that a barmaid from the slums could strategize and lead a group of rebels around. He wondered if she was a better leader than he was in his short term as President. He had led the country and practically the world for a month before the fiasco with John. There had been so many things to do as President and there are probably so many more things that need to be done. I hope Reeve is doing better as President than I was.

“Oh Tifa! Do you think we could swim on the beach while we're there? All this saving the world business is putting a damper on my fun,” Yuffie asked with a pout.

“Chaos is on the loose, the world is only beginning to rebuild and all you can think about is swimming on the beach?” Rufus asked condescendingly.

“Chill, city-boy! You haven't been hanging around us trying to kick butt but only a few days. Do you know how hard it's been for us to run around the world kicking Sephiroth's ass?”

“Hey, you hardly know what I've been doing before you met up with me.”

“Oh, really? And what have you been doing? Sitting on your ass watching us on TV thinking, `gee, I wish I could be more like AVALANCHE,'” Yuffie teased.

“I wasn't doing that! I was . . . well,” Rufus hesitated, realizing he had gotten himself into a tight spot. “I was working in Junon.”

“Doing what?”

Damnit Yuffie, why do you have to press this issue “Well, I was working for the military,” Rufus struggled with his words.

“The military? What were you, a messenger boy?”

“No! I worked with more people than that!”

“Like what? A cafeteria worker?” Yuffie laughed.

Tifa also laughed along with Yuffie as Rufus gazed at the two women with annoyance.

“Ha ha ha, very funny,” Rufus scoffed.

“Sorry about that. But if it makes you feel better, we won't be basking in the sun the entire time we're in Costa Del Sol. Just until Yuffie and I get a nice tan,” Tifa said as she gave Yuffie a wink.

Rufus wasn't sure if Tifa was serious or not, but the thought that they were taking a break for some fun and sun was annoying him. He reconsidered his earlier musing about Tifa's leadership skills and realized that she probably wasn't as good a leader as he first imagined. He didn't think that AVALANCHE had time to go to the beach or even hang around Gold Saucer for extended periods of time while trying to chase Sephiroth. Surely, they didn't do that under Strife's command.

“Great, while you two are getting a nice tan, Chaos is going to go foraging for tasty little villagers somewhere.”

“John, you've got a lot to learn about what it's like to be traveling constantly and fighting every day of your life. It's not like we aren't worried about Chaos, but after defeating Sephiroth and seeing what we saw at Fort Condor, I think we should take a break to get our minds off of things,” Tifa huffed.

“What's next, doing go Gold Saucer and spending a day there to relax after getting your tans? Don't tell me you guys all went to Gold Saucer while you were hunting down Sephiroth,” Rufus shook his head.

Yuffie's eyes lit up as she listened to their griping male companion. The young ninja looked at Tifa with a pleading look hoping she would also agree to a day at Gold Saucer.

“No, we're not going to Gold Saucer. Just a day at Costa Del Sol should be enough. And I'm not going to relax at Costa Del Sol just to get a tan. Our poor chocobos need some rest after running across the ocean. It's mainly going to be for them. Though, you'd be surprised how rejuvenated you feel after taking a break from traveling. I think this trip will be good for you as well. You seem so uptight right now. Just trust me, okay?” Tifa smiled.

Rufus was taken aback by Tifa's words. He hadn't really thought about when the chocobos were going to get a break and it was true that he was feeling stressed lately. Since he became President of ShinRa, Inc. free time was something he wasn't allowed. The last time he had time to enjoy himself was the night he learned about his father's death.

(flashback)

“Are you sure you want to do this Reno? You look pretty out of it,” Rufus asked as he checked the blue-suit he was wearing.

“I'm positive. I really need this and I need someone with me,” Reno said walking briskly with his shades down.

“And you're sure that wearing a Turk uniform is going to keep people from recognizing me?” Rufus sighed as he put on a pair of sunglasses.

“Chill, Rufus, no one is gonna mess with ya `cause you got that on. Now hurry it up cause we're almost there,” Reno spat.

Rufus shrugged as he followed Reno through the streets of Sector 6. He didn't know what compelled the Turk to suddenly call him asking to meet him in his room for something important. The only thing Rufus knew was that Reno looked extremely stressed. Rufus guessed it had something to do with AVALANCHE and how the terrorist group had somehow destroyed the support pillar to Sector 7 and killed thousands of people. He had read the news and guessed that everyone in ShinRa was on the edge because of their bold attack.

“Does Johnny-boy know the drill?”

“I told John that I would be out on business and to take over in my place until I get back. No one will know I'm gone.”

“Good. I can tell it's gonna be a long night for me so you ain't going home til lunchtime,” Reno said without his usual air of sarcasm.

Rufus kept quiet not wanting to ask why Reno had decided to drag him out to Sector 6 when he had a meeting with his father in the morning. The red-haired Turk walked around with this air secrecy mixed with heavy remorse. Reno finally stopped his brisk walk and motioned for Rufus to follow him down a dark alleyway.

“What's down here Reno?”

“Shhh! You'll find out soon enough,” Reno flashed a smile.

Rufus cautiously reached for the gun in his pocket when Reno motioned to put it away. He raised his brow in curiosity as Reno knocked on a metal door and a small sliver of light poured out as someone behind the door pulled open a small window.

“What's the password?”

“Suck my cock.”

Rufus shook his head certain that Reno was going to get himself killed, but reared back in surprise when the door opened as a flood of bright neon lights and music blared from the room.

“Come on,” Reno motioned to him.

Rufus followed closely behind Reno as he looked at his surroundings. There were men laughing as they drank beer and women dancing on the tabletops of some tables. A long stage seemed to extend down half of the room where a long shiny pole stood out near the end of the stage. The smells of cheap perfume, cigarette smoke and spilled beer filled the rooms along with the neon lights and scantily clad women. Reno had taken him to a titty bar!

“Reno, this is what you called me up and said was urgent?”

“This is urgent. I need some booze badly. Rude couldn't come cause someone's gotta work since I'm supposed to be `injured' and I couldn't ask anyone else.”

“Won't I just . . . get in the way?”

“Hell no! Riches and bitches go together you know! `Sides, I missed your birthday a few months ago so this is your belated birthday present: now hold that thought while I get us some drinks.”

Rufus was glad he had some sunglasses to hide part of his face as he sat down at a table. He wished he had a ski mask so he could cover his entire face from the flush of embarrassment. But Rufus knew that there was no way out of this situation. A soft hand found its way along Rufus's shoulder as the rancorous smells of booze and perfume encircled his senses.

“Hey there handsome, want to have a little fun with me?”

The blonde-haired woman didn't even wait for a reply as she slipped herself between the table and Rufus's lap. She hardly had anything on and Rufus nearly puked at the sight of her face that was caked with so much make-up he wasn't sure if the woman even had a skin underneath it all. He tried to avert his eyes from her body, which was her only asset as her pert breasts and curvaceous hips were the type of things that could make any man shiver with lust.

“Sorry, I'm not interested,” Rufus tried to push the woman off of him, not certain where to put his hands where they wouldn't send her the wrong signal.

“Oh, come on! I just want to have a little fun,” the blond said huskily.

“Trudy! Get off the man! We're not here for whoring tonight,” Reno said as he placed two glasses of dark amber liquid on the table along with a bottle of the same.

“Aw, you're no fun Reno,” Trudy said as she stood up. “At least can I get his name?”

“It's uh . . .”

“It's Dick,” Reno quickly countered.

“Dick? Oh, I love that name,” Trudy purred. “Well, Reno, Dick. If you do feel like whoring, you know where to find me.”

Rufus paled as the woman blew him a kiss and sauntered off a few tables away to sit on another man's lap who was more receptive to her advances. He visibly shuddered and didn't hesitate when Reno handed him the glass of liquor.

“Riches and bitches I tell ya,” Reno smirked as he downed the drink.

“Bitch is definitely what she was. Did you see her face? She looked like a dog!” Rufus sipped the drink and coughed as he felt the burning sensation in his throat. “What did you get me?”

“Bourbon-whiskey. Grows hair on your chest,” Reno pounded his chest as he poured another glass.

“I'm sure it does,” Rufus said as he downed the entire glass, scrunching his face as he swallowed.

Rufus gasped as he breathed heavily and let the warmth spread through his body. It was harsh, but it did feel good.

“The night's still young, let's have another round,” Reno said while pouring Rufus another glass.

(Several shots and two hours later)

“Barkeep, hit us with another bottle!”

“Reno, are you crazy! You practically finished the first bottle yourself!”

“Come on, lightweight! I know you can do better than that! Besides, this is make-up for missing your birthday.”

“I think you've had enough. Barkeep, get the man a glass of water!” Rufus shouted as he tried to keep Reno from dropping the empty whiskey bottle on the floor.

“You're too kind. You're way too kind. So unlike that bastard you got for a Daddy, but then I'm not one to speak since I'm a bad Daddy myself,” Reno slurred.

“Yeah, my old man's a real asshole . . . wait a second. You have kids?”

“Had and it was only one. At least, one I knew of,” Reno lifted up his sunglasses to wipe his eyes.

It was the first time Rufus had seen him without his sunglasses all night and the first time he had seen the red rims around his eyes. Rufus thought that the redness was probably due to his inebriated state, but he could have sworn that Reno had been crying.

“What happened?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just pushed the button that dropped a huge fuckin' plate on top of her and everyone else in Sector 7,” Reno said bitterly. “She was there. My little Mary was fucking killed because her own Daddy is a fuck-up!”

Rufus's jaw dropped as he listened to what Reno was telling him. Reno had pulled out his wallet and produced a picture of a happy little red-haired girl with a missing tooth. The Turk showed it to Rufus as he sniffed back a few unshed tears.

“She was going to be five in a few months,” Reno said staring at the photo before shoving it back into his wallet. “Not like any of that matters anymore.”

He finally knew the truth about what really happened with Sector 7. His father and the news had told him that AVALANCHE was the one to blame for the plate falling. It was the perfect lie and deception to give the world since the terrorist group already had a bad name. Rufus didn't think that his father could commit such an atrocious act, but his father was capable of anything, even lying to his own son.

“It was my father, wasn't it?”

“No fuckin' shit!” Reno slammed the bottle onto the table. “Hey, barkeep! Where's my booze?”

Rufus buried his face into his hands realizing why Reno was so adamant on drinking tonight. The Turk needed to drown his sorrows in alcohol and Rufus didn't blame him one bit.

“I'm sorry. If it had known what he was going to do, I would have tried to stop it.”

“You couldn't have stopped it even if you had known. Your Daddy woulda had you killed and he probably would have asked me to do it,” Reno spat.

The bartender finally came with a new bottle of whiskey and two glasses of water as he grabbed empty bottle from Reno's limp hand before it fell on the ground. Rufus didn't hesitate to uncap the bottle and pour two shots as his hand shook, spilling some of the liquor on the table. Reno quickly took his shot as Rufus followed suit slamming his glass on the table.

“You know what's funny?” Reno put his head on the table as he gazed at Rufus over the rim of his sunglasses with puffy red eyes.

“What?”

“Your Dad and I aren't that different, ya know? I mean he's willing to kill his own son while I killed my little girl. I'm a heartless, fucking bastard,” Reno spat as he put the bottle to his lips and chugged.

Rufus watched with a tinge of guilt as Reno chugged the liquor. The Turk was hurting emotionally. It was painful to see the man who always carried himself with an air of nonchalant confidence crying both inside and out that his sunglasses couldn't even hide the tears that he probably didn't even know he was shedding. Mainly, Rufus felt ashamed he was born to a man who would sell his first-born son to the devil if it would give him more money and power.

“Reno, if you were a heartless bastard, you wouldn't be sitting here drowning your sorrows in whiskey,” Rufus said solemnly.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Thanks man. I hope you don't mind if I say that your father was a real dick-head. If I weren't in the Turks . . . if I weren't in the Turks I'd . . .,” Reno faltered. “Fuck man. I'd probably be dead before I got a chance to get a hit on your Dad. Either that or too flat broke to give a shit.”

Rufus knew it was the truth. He didn't want to admit that he had silent musings and fascinations of people killing his father. However, most people who hated ShinRa didn't have the skills or money to pull off a successful assassination. They would have to wait until the President found his end some other way.

“Do you think I woulda been a good Daddy?”

“I think you would have. I mean, certainly no guy would ever want to hurt the daughter of a Turk,” Rufus tried to reason.

“Yeah, I would kick any guys ass that tried to harm my baby-girl,” Reno motioned wildly as he flung the bottle of whiskey around.

Rufus sighed as he felt the urge to take another shot. He never knew the appeal of strong liquor until now. Just as Rufus found a way to pry the bottle out of Reno's hand, a small commotion started in one corner of the bar. The patrons of the bar were shouting and the television was turned up all the way while the sleazy jazz music was turned off.

“Hey, what's with all the noise?” Reno whined.

“It's the news! They say that President ShinRa's dead!”

Reno paused as he put his hand to his ears with perked interest, “Say that again for me buddy.”

“I said, that President ShinRa's dead! Apparently he finally got what he deserves!”

Rufus sat shocked as he watched the television screen. He had heard the bar patron relaying the news and was watching the blurbs on the screen as the words were slowly being processed. His father was dead.

Reno had somehow gotten out of his chair and was drinking a toast with all the other bar patrons for the death of his father. The Turk sloppily poured Rufus another drink before taking the rest of the whiskey bottle to his lips.

“It's a good thing you're out with me tonight, huh?” Reno smiled.

“Yeah, good thing,” Rufus said, still shocked by the news.

“Ding dong, the dick is dead. Which old dick? The big fat dick! Ding dong, the big fat dick is dead!” Reno belted out.

Soon the rest of the bar joined in with Reno as they all sang a joyous tune. Rufus still sat staring at the shot of whiskey that Reno had poured for him and tried to sort out his feelings. He wasn't overjoyed like he thought he would be. He wasn't even remorseful; at least he didn't feel like it. He was just numb.

Staring at the shot of whiskey and listening to Reno's singing certainly didn't help Rufus's mood. He lifted the glass up and toasted to no one in particular feeling that his father was at least owed a bit of gratitude for bringing him into this world. The question was whether or not Rufus was going to miss him now that he was gone.

“To the worst father in the world,” Rufus whispered before downing the shot.

Rufus turned his attention to the television again and read the blurb on the screen as the news poured in about his father's death. A sudden realization dawned on Rufus as he sat with the empty shot glass in his hand, as he started wide-eyed at the television.

“Oh fuck!”

“Dude, what's up?” Reno said as he lazily put his arm around Rufus's neck.

“I'm the President now.”

(end flashback)

That was the night where Rufus ceased to worry about himself and began to worry about the fate of ShinRa, Inc. and the world. He hadn't even had time to really mourn his father's death. He didn't love his father like a son should, but he did feel somewhere in his heart that he missed him.

“When was the last time you had time to relax?” Tifa asked.

“Probably over a month ago when I went drinking with Reno,” Rufus accidentally slipped out.

“You mean, Reno of the Turks, Reno,” Tifa said venomously.

Rufus realized his mistake as soon as he heard the tone in Tifa's voice. He knew he had to think of something to say, but couldn't tell her the entire truth.

“Yeah, I take it you don't like him,” Rufus laughed uneasily.

“Well, I think Reno's hot. It doesn't matter that he's a Turkey or not, he's really cute,” Yuffie beamed.

“This is the same guy who dropped a plate on Sector 7 killing hundreds of people. I can't believe you think he's cute,” Tifa sighed.

“But he is. I mean, look at his body. Wouldn't you want a piece of that?”

“No! I think that's disgusting. It's bad enough thinking that we're working with the Turks to help rebuild, but at least they're over with Reeve pestering him rather than here with us.”

“Oh, come on Tifa. The Turks aren't that bad. They saved my life from that grossness, Corneo. Oh! Maybe we could double date! I mean, I could be with Reno and you could be with Rude. You know he has a crush on you,” Yuffie grinned, trying her best to get a rise out of Tifa.

“Oh please! That's almost as worse as saying I should date Rufus ShinRa!”

Rufus stiffened as he heard his name and he bit down on his lip to keep himself from saying anything. Slowly as he was listening to Tifa and Yuffie gossip, Rufus's face was turning red with a mixture of embarrassment and agitation.

“Well, Rufus isn't that bad looking,” Yuffie thought.

“I wouldn't know. Every time I've gotten close to him he's tried to kill me or stare at my breasts. It was like he was talking to them the entire time he tried to interrogate me in Junon. I wish I had the chance to kick the pervert in the balls,” Tifa seethed.

“Tifa, how many guys are there who don't stare at your boobs?” Yuffie joked. “Besides, he might actually be a nice guy and the type to save your life when you're in trouble, like Reno!”

“I highly doubt Rufus is capable of saving lives, I mean . . . he was such a horrible President. Why are you trying to defend him and Reno? All they care about is themselves. Rufus and the Turks are nothing but big bullies trying to fatten their pockets. Both of them have spilled innocent blood for money and power. People's lives were in danger because of them.”

“As if AVALANCHE, hasn't done that as well?” Rufus finally shouted fed up being the topic of their scathing conversation.

Tifa and Yuffie both jumped at his sudden outburst and stared at him with wide-eyes.

“Do you have any idea how many lives were lost during the mako-reactor bombings or families broken because of AVALANCHE killing ShinRa soldiers? As it stands, I think the Turks and ShinRa, Inc. are probably on par in terms of the number of innocent victims they've harmed so unless you two have something constructive to say about that, then shut-up!”

Rufus trotted along ahead of the group not really wanting to listen to either one of them. He was pissed. He knew that ShinRa wasn't really a citizen friendly company, but it had been his company and everyone learned to listen to ShinRa under his aggressive rule. He thought that the ShinRa stigma had diminished while he was in office, but Tifa's hurtful words clearly showed that not everyone agreed with how he ruled.

He was disgusted with himself. He swore to change things when he became President. He didn't want ShinRa to be a power-hungry corporation anymore, but he also had the resolve to eliminate Sephiroth. Those two main goals conflicted with one another and the outcome only spelled more distain for the company. Rufus stared at his hands and wondered how many innocent lives were killed because of the decisions he made as President. Perhaps I never should have been President. I probably was a horrible leader. What will the world think of Rufus ShinRa after history writes about this event?

(continued…)