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The Little Guy	By : TokiMirage Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Cloud/Sephiroth Views: 2374 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I own no FFVII, I do own my own creative mind, and If I actually made money off this I would be rich. But I don't. So I starve.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
The Little Guy
. , . , .
Chapter Nine:
Cloud woke feeling incredibly groggy, disoriented, and nauseous. Rolling out of bed, he frowned when he didn’t recognize the room he was in. What the…? His memory of the previous night was foggy.
Blue eyes narrowed as he put two and two together. He remembered Reno in the closet, and Sephiroth afterwards, but not much past his run the night before.
He cursed under his breath. Never trust a Turk. He’d gotten his ass into this situation going home with the only familiar guy in the bar because he’d thought he could handle him. Then he’d almost gotten killed and found himself owing the guy a few dates.
Just great.
Making his way over to what appeared to be the ‘facilities’, he emptied his stomach into the ceramic bowl before resting his tired body against the wall and thinking. He wasn’t wearing his own clothes. He wasn’t in Reno’s apartment, because there weren’t any doors or windows that he could see. Likely the seals were so tight, he wouldn’t know the exit until a Turk wandered in with his breakfast.
That was, if they decided to feed him. Asshole Reno. The guy may have promised to not ask him about being a Turk for a week, but apparently ‘kidnapping’ didn’t fall under that rule.
At least they had given him a cell with a bed, sink, and toilet. Pulling himself to his feet, he stumbled over to the sink and rinsed out his mouth out before taking a few mouthfuls and swallowing. When his stomach settled, apparently happy with what it had retched, he drank a bit more. From the nausea and grogginess, he’d probably been dosed with some sort of tranquilizer, likely in his sleep if he hadn’t seen it coming.
His memories would either come back or not, so Cloud didn’t let himself worry about it as he drank some more water before heading over to the bed and crawling back under the covers. Laying on his back with his arms above the blanket, he closed his eyes and slowly lowered himself into a deeply meditative state while his body recovered. He doubted he’d be able to sleep for the foreseeable future, so this was a suitable alternative. He’d sense someone coming before they were in range of him.
Some hours later, Cloud heard a door open and immediately sat up in bed, eyeing the unfamiliar Turk that entered cautiously.
“Get up.”
Cloud raised an eyebrow but stood up, far more steady on his feet now that his body had recovered from the shock to his system. The Turk then grabbed him by the arm with the intention of leading him out of the room.
Cloud broke his grip, snapped his arm, landed a solid kick to his groin, and threw him bodily into the sink before bolting out of the room like a chocobo running from an army of Midgar Zoloms. Reno and Rude were outside the door. Cloud pilfered the redhead’s night stick before he could react, nailing the Turk with it on the back of his neck as revenge. Reno dropped like a stone, but Rude landed on him in the next moment, his entire weight bearing down on Cloud as he tried to grapple him into a lock.
Shit. Cloud tried to get out of the hold without much luck, considering their difference in body mass. Once you got an Aikido master pinned on the ground, he wasn’t much use anymore unfortunately.
But Cloud had a night stick. Turning up the power to full, he tagged Rude on the ass and clenched his jaw when some of the voltage got him too. When he was sure the bigger man was sufficiently stunned, he twisted out from under his body and looked around for an exit.
Where the hell was he? This didn’t look like any of the Turk offices in the Shinra building. Picking the hallway that had the least amount of noise coming from it, he took off at a full out run, very glad that he’d been doing consistent endurance training for the past two months. He could run at a full sprint for an hour if he needed to.
Finally getting to the end of the hallway, he pushed himself through the door and stared at the sight before him. Where the hell was he? The décor was enough to make him gag with how much money it must have cost, and the marble floors were so shiny he could see his face in them.
Alarmed voices behind him. Shit. They knew he’d gotten out then. Running for the stairs, he swore when he saw a man running up them towards him. Running towards the side stairs, he jumped on the banister and ran down it, jumping off the end of it and hitting the ground at a roll that spun smoothly back into a full out sprint. More alarmed voices now. Cloud glanced around him to see more bodyguards running from doorways around the huge hall. He needed to find an exit. And fast.
The first suit caught him halfway across the giant dance floor. Cloud pulled out all the stops, easily slipping around him and directing the man’s own momentum to send him flying into two of his counterparts. The second came at him from the right, reaching for him with both arms. Cloud grabbed his wrists and directed his arms away before shifting the man’s weight into a throw that took out the grunts sneaking up on him from the left.
Breaking into another run, he grunted as a sharp pain nearly took out his leg. Shit. He’d been shot. Breaking into a chaotic, turning pattern, he danced across the floor, using every ounce of self control he possessed to keep his leg functioning at full capacity.
Just as he made it to the double doors, they swung open to reveal Tseng in all of his glory. Cloud didn’t let himself think or pause.
The taller man burst into action as they collided in a series of fast attacks. Cloud waited until the right moment when he had led Tseng to run at him in an attack before abruptly switching styles from Tifa’s more fists-on approach to the hands-on approach of Aikido.
Unfortunately, Tseng grabbed him before he could execute the full throw and both of them nearly went down. Cloud broke himself from the Wutaian’s grasp and stepped back, eyes narrowed in assessment.
Why wasn’t he surprised Tseng had faced Aikido before. Perhaps he even had training it in himself. Shit.
“That’s a very interesting style there, Mr. Strife. Where did you learn it?”
Cloud said nothing, staring him down.
Tseng smirked. “That’s a very nice expression on your face, Mr. Strife. Reno said you were quite the spectacle to witness, but I hadn’t quite believed it until I saw it myself.” He his head slightly to the left. “Do you like what you see, sir?”
Cloud stiffened and followed the Wutaian’s glance to none other than Rufus Shinra, Vice President and son of the current President of Shinra.
Rufus smirked. “I do. He will be a wonderful addition to the Turks.”
Alarm made the blond stiffen for a moment before he forced his body to relax. He couldn’t be tense as a rock if he expected to be able to move with any level of freedom. “I have no intention of becoming a member of the Turks,” he bit out, mood darkening more by the minute. “And I don’t appreciate being kidnapped.”
But the other blond just continued to smirk. “Your mind will change soon enough.”
Something hit Cloud in the back of the head, and darkness swallowed him whole.
. , . , .
Cloud came to in a cell that didn’t even attempt to hide the fact that it was a cell, like the last one had. It was a somewhat large room with one chair in the middle bolted to the floor, and he was currently chained to it at the wrists and ankles.
If he had been enhanced, he could have stood up and ripped the damned chair right out of the floor.
Looking around the room, he noted the security cameras and the two guards standing at attention at the door. They didn’t even twitch or show any signs that they had noticed him awake, though the sunglasses over their eyes probably didn’t help. What was it with grunts wearing sunglasses to look cool? In bad lighting you couldn’t see shit, and if a bomb blew up in your face the last thing you were worried about was spots in your vision.
Cloud closed his eyes and bowed his head. Now was no time to freak out. They were trying to make him unbalanced by leaving him here and tying him down in what was obviously an interrogation room. He needed to regain his centre and balance if he was going to figure a way out of this situation.
The door opened, and Cloud kept his head down. A pair of shiny Turk shoes walked up to him before standing there, waiting.
Let them wait. He wasn’t cracking first.
“I know you’re awake,” Tseng’s smooth voice echoed slightly in the room.
Cloud didn’t respond. He expected to get punched across the face, but the Turk merely took hold of his chin with a hand and pulled his head up.
“Being stubborn isn’t going to get you anywhere,” Tseng stated matter-of-factly.
The blond raised an eyebrow. “I was under the assumption that being stubborn had got me in this cell. So in that, you’re wrong.”
Amusement flashed across the man’s face. “I do not wish this to become violent. However, I am willing to give you one more chance to join the Turks here, and now.”
Cloud just stared him down. “Why is all this so important to you? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Tseng released his chin, but ran a hand down his neck to his collarbone. Cloud didn’t twitch. He knew the Turk was just trying to unsettle him, make him uncomfortable, make his mind race with all the possible things that could be done to him. Standard interrogation tactic, though one of the more subtle ones.
So. Mind games it was then.
“You’re far too useful to leave rotting in a janitorial position. The army’s loss, in this case, is our gain.”
“And how do you expect me to do the job if I don’t want to be a Turk to begin with?”
Tseng just smiled. “I’m sure you can find some… incentive. How’s your mother doing? I hear she’s having difficulty paying for her medical bills.”
Cloud’s insides froze. Medical bills? He wracked his memory. He couldn’t remember anything about medical bills. Well, he couldn’t remember much about her period. From her phone number to her address.
Guilt curdled his stomach. He’d completely forgotten about her. She’d been so far outside his psyche for so long that he’d forgotten she existed.
It was hard to miss a person you didn’t remember, after all. Sure, he knew that his entire village had been burned to the ground, but the only person from there he remembered was Tifa. She’d helped him recover a few memories of his time before over the years, as well as sort out the mass of memories that had led him to believe he was Zack, but all the ones that had come back had been related to her.

Not his ‘mother’.
He considered his words carefully. Was he already supposed to know about this? Had she kept it secret from him and Tseng was hoping to get a reaction out of him? How did he get more information without making it obvious that he didn’t remember a damn thing?
Thankfully, the stony expression he had adopted upon waking up in the interrogation room served him well, as his lack of reaction was what made Tseng speak again.
“She was diagnosed a year ago, wasn’t she? It’s unfortunate that you didn’t make it into SOLDIER, as I imagine you would have been making more money there. Perhaps even enough to put her in a better hospital. A hospital capable of taking care of her needs.”
Cloud stared up into the man’s confident face, mind swimming at the ramifications.
He needed time to absorb this. Closing his eyes, he let his head drop again.
“I’ll give you a few hours to think it over, Cloud.”
He hated that Tseng had the gall to use his first name.
Ignoring the feet that he heard walking away, the blond focused himself inward, shifting through memories and trying to come to a decision concerning his current situation. How could he get Tseng to let him go, or if that failed, how could he escape? After escaping the hallway and finding himself in that ballroom, not to mention Rufus’s presence, it seemed logical to assume that he was in one of the Vice President’s safe houses or homes. Unfortunately, from what he’d seen, he couldn’t recall having been here before.
And that made things more difficult. If he had some idea of the structure of the building, or the floor plan, then he could have figured out some escape routes. As it was, however, he’d be forced to fly by the seat of his pants.
And no one was coming to rescue him. AVALANCHE didn’t even know he existed, Zack was away on a mission up north, and Sephiroth…
Well, what was the likelihood that the General would notice before he wound up dead in a ditch somewhere?
Perhaps… if he caved… he could escape later…
His lips tightened in displeasure, immediately dismissing the idea. He wouldn’t be able to escape the Turks, not with his lacking connections and Shinra’s current power over the Planet. He’d be a rat running around in a maze until a sniper put him out of his misery.
Even if he escaped from Tseng now, the man would track him down. Maybe not before he got to Sephiroth, however. The General had said that if he agreed to test for SOLDIER again, that he would ‘speak’ to Tseng.
Sephiroth was probably the only one who could defy the Turks and get away with it, after all. As loath as Cloud was to run to him for ‘safety’, his options were limited.
And if he couldn’t escape, then he had to figure out some way to convince Tseng to let him go. Maybe if he told the Turk about the SOLDIER offer…?
It was worth a shot.
Decision made, he settled back to wait, using the time given to him to meditate.
When the door opened once more, he was ready for whatever the Turk threw at him. If he’d survived Hojo, he could survive this.
“Have you decided to join the Turks, then?”
It wasn’t Tseng. Cloud opened his eyes and raised his head, staring at the man he had never seen before. “Who are you?” he demanded, looking back and forth between him and Tseng, who stood by the door with a blank expression, watching the proceedings.
The older man came forward, a piece of brown hair swinging into his vision that he didn’t seem to mind. His eyes were warm, but the lines on his face created a stern visage. This and his manner screamed leader.
“My name is Veld. I am the head of the Turks.” He smiled a friendly smile, eyes not even scanning over the chains that held Cloud in place. Despite his apparent congeniality, there was an overall edge to the man that couldn’t be ignored. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Cloud Strife. I’ve heard many interesting things.”
Cloud stared him down, not reacting.
Veld looked at Tseng with a questioningly raised eyebrow. “He seems rather quiet, Tseng. From what Reno said, he was quite the chatterbox with the General.” His eyes sparkled as they turned back to Cloud. “Do we intimidate you, Cloud?”
Still, he said nothing. He understood enough psychology to recognize what the man was trying to do, and he wasn’t falling for it.
“Well this is disappointing, Tseng. I thought you had already gone over the particulars with him?”
“I did, sir. He has been very resistant.”
Veld hummed thoughtfully, running a finger and thumb along the line of hair on his jaw. “Well this is no good.”
Cloud glanced back and forth between them. The game was beginning to annoy him. Should he present his case?
“I had thought you would see sense, Cloud. Why do you continue to fight this?”
Cloud made a calculated risk. “The only question you’ve asked me thus far is whether or not you intimidate me. I had thought you would see otherwise, Turk. Perhaps I misjudged your observation skills.”
Veld’s eyes lit up as he broke into a laugh. “There! That’s the spirit Reno was talking about. I’m glad to see you haven’t broken so easily, Cloud. I was very impressed viewing the footage of your escape. You have a lot of promise.”
The Turk still hadn’t asked the question, and it was beginning to bother him. Enough with the games already.
“So tell me, Cloud, where did you learn Aikido? Tseng says that your understanding of the style was beyond just a novice, and I find this very interesting. Where could you have learned Wutaian arts?”
There was that glint in his eyes again. Cloud said nothing, going with the easiest response. Lying would make it easier for them to entrap him, and that was the last thing he wanted. They were Turks. They would have already searched his history, not to mention they knew more about his time in Nibelheim than he did. He couldn’t have lied even if he wanted to.
“Are you a Wutai spy then?”
Cloud raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Wutai spy? He had blond hair and blue eyes. He came from a mountain hovel in the middle of nowhere.
Veld chuckled. “We had a report of a mysterious blond on a distinct motorcycle that beat up some Wutaians in the slums and apparently knew Wutaian. Are you this individual?”
Shit. How had they- No Wutaian would have reported that. It must have been one of the Turk’s informants. He’d been careless, yelling at them in Wutaian out in the open like that. He’d just been so pissed off that they were trying to steal Sephiroth’s bike.
“I’m not sure if you were aware of this yet, but your friend Zack died last night during the assault.”
Cloud’s eyes snapped to Tseng, who had spoken in Wutaian. They were lying. There was no way Zack had died. He carefully kept any expression off his face and looked back to Veld. He was the more dangerous one, with his genial smile and deadly underpinnings.
“Perhaps you can answer this then… Why does the General keeping asking you to fix things for him?”
Cloud said nothing again, and Veld was beginning to look a little annoyed. The blond watched as the head of the Turks let out a breath before walking straight out of the room.
Tseng stayed behind. When the Turk walked up to him and punched him across the face, Cloud let his head move with the blow but wasn’t particularly surprised. He merely turned his head to face Tseng again and stared him down. The Turk punched him on the other side of the face.
They stared each other down. Tseng pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the leg.
Cloud couldn’t keep the grimace of pain off his face as the blade was twisted, but he said nothing, not even when the Turk dragged it up and cut even farther into the muscle of his leg.
When the Turk made to go for the other leg, Cloud bit out, “Wait.”
Tseng paused and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
The blond licked his lips, keeping his breathing as even as possible in spite of the burning pain in his leg. “Sephiroth offered me a chance to take the SOLDIER exam again. I’d rather be SOLDIER.”
The Turk raised an eyebrow. “And why would Sephiroth do that? Your last test results were abysmal.”
Cloud glared. “Why don’t you call and ask him?”
Tseng chuckled. “What would be the point of that? We don’t want SOLDIER to have you.”
Blue eyes narrowed. So, they didn’t care then. Well, that made things both easier and more difficult. With the way things were going, they might knife him until he died. Or they might knife him until he was close to death and then Cure him and do it all over again.
He was beginning to feel a bit woozy from blood loss. He weighed his options. He really didn’t want to become a Turk. As soon as he got caught in that death trap, he’d never escape.
Hope began to dwindle as he deadened himself inside. Might as well prepare himself for the inevitable.
But instead Tseng stepped away from him and walked out of the room.
Cloud stared after him, uncomprehending, leg burning and aching with each beat of his heart.
A moment later, Veld and Tseng walked back in, Veld holding a green ball in his hand. A moment later, a Cure had been cast and the materia slipped away again.
What?
Veld reached into his suit and pulled out a syringe. Cloud blanched and stared at it, noting the mako glow to the greenish liquid. The head of the Turks raised an eyebrow at him as he pulled out the cap and tapped it, making sure any air bubbles had reached the top before squirting a bit of the liquid out to make sure. “What, you don’t like needles?”
Cloud’s vision swam for a moment from a mix of the bloodloss and his nausea. He hated needles. Needles reminded him of Hojo. Hojo reminded him of mako tanks and fire burning through his entire body.
Before he could so much as say a word, the needle was jabbed into his shoulder and injected. Cloud flinched and gasped at the familiar burning sensation. “What… what did you drug me with?”
Veld smiled genially, patting Cloud’s cheek. “Just a little truth serum to smooth things along.”
“But…” Cloud’s mind swam. “Mako…” Mako. There was mako, all around him. He could see the green glow and he moaned, straining against the restraints as he tried to breath. He needed out, he needed to get out.
. , . , .
Veld frowned as the blond man they had captured moaned and pulled against his restraints before abruptly collapsing forward, the only thing holding him upright the arms chained behind his back.
He traded a look with Tseng and raised an eyebrow in silent communication, holding up the empty syringe. The taller man shrugged slightly, expression bewildered. Frowning, the head of the Turks returned his attention to Strife and brought a hand forward to raise the man’s head.
He didn’t expect his hand to be bitten.
Pulling it back with a loud curse, he nursed his abused digits and eyed the red teeth marks that now marred his skin. What the hell? Grabbing the man’s hair, he yanked back his lolling head and stared in incomprehension at the sight of glazed, glowing blue eyes.
What?
The glow was almost nonexistent, but for a Turk who worked with SOLDIERs on a regular basis, it was easily noticed.
The most glaring issue there was that the blond was not a SOLDIER, and the mako-laced truth serum shouldn’t have had this kind of effect. The traces of mako were close to non-existent, and all the mixture did was enhance the effects of the truth serum itself. It shouldn’t have made the blond’s eyes glow.
“Tseng?” he questioned, snapping his fingers in front of the non-responsive and dilated eyes of the man they had decided to recruit.
Before the man could respond, the nearly-catatonic blond murmured something.
“You… will be my… living… legacy…”
The blank face dissolved into one of horror and sadness as he bent his head back and let out a cry of agony, tears falling from his eyes. Veld stared as the blond who had been completely stoic and unbendable before broke down before their eyes, the sound echoing eerily in the room as it dissolved into a glassy, dead eyes in an even blanker face than before.
Abruptly, lucidity shifted behind those eyes as they looked down from the ceiling and focused on him. Not his face, but chest. What was he seeing with those dead eyes? Veld hadn’t been expecting this when he’d dosed the man with truth serum.
“Turks…” slipped from slack lips as the blond stared at them.
“You know, I always thought that your suits were the most hideous blue on the planet. What happened to a normal black? Or dark blue? Far more menacing than the popsicle sticks you guys look like now.” A good-natured grin.
Veld stared at the abrupt shift, trying to reconcile the easy grin and bright eyes with the glassy-eyed doll that had been sitting there a moment before.
“I beg your pardon?” slipped from his mouth without his permission.
The blond just laughed and tilted his head to the side, that same, eerie grin on his face. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it, Turk-dude! Black would be so much more… mysterious. Intimidating. Professional. This blue shit makes you look like a bunch of girls! SOLDIER blue is much more intimidating. We got dark colours, distinguished colours, manly colours.”
Veld stared at the blond for a long moment before looking at Tseng. His second in command seemed to be as lost as he was at the recent turn of behaviour. Without a word, Veld motioned for Tseng to stay for a moment while he went outside and talked to Reno.
The redhead was standing guard outside, a bored look on his face.
“Reno.”
The younger Turk barely twitched at the sight of him, nodding his head in acknowledgement and shifting his posture to an even more relaxed slouch.
“Has Strife every shown signs of mental instability?”
The redhead’s slate-coloured eyes widened. “Huh? What do you mean?”
Veld fingered his moustache in thought. “You described him as having attitude, but also maturity and control when you went out to dinner with him. With Sephiroth he acted rather belligerent. However, when we began to question him, he was completely shut down, and now he’s had another shift after we dosed him with truth serum. He’s almost a completely different person. It doesn’t look like an allergic reaction, but… I’ve never seen anything like this. Do any drugs below plate cause this kind of… instability?”
Reno’s expression darkened in thought. “Not that I know of. I mean, they can make you go crazy because of withdrawal and shit, or hallucinate, but not the kind you’re talkin’ about.”
Veld hummed thoughtfully before motioning for the redhead to follow him back in.
“-know I’ve always wondered what’s with the dot on your forehead. Why that colour? Why right smack in the middle? Does it have to do with some kind of Wutaian voodoo that if you don’t have a dot on your forehead you don’t go to the afterlife? Or is it more like a sign of status? Oh wait, you were kicked out of Wutai or something weren’t you. Daaamn. Does that mean it’s a sign of awesomeness or is it some kind of super mark of shame? Hm?”
Veld shut the door behind him and closed his eyes at the sound of the blond’s voice, almost unrecognizable from before. This blond was beginning to sound like more trouble than he was worth.
Turning around, he noted Reno’s bizarre expression and walked forward.
“We have questions for you, and you’re going to answer them.”
The blond tilted his head to the side and gave him a confused expression. “Uh, why wouldn’t I? Shoot away, Turk-dude. Though, do you think you could tell me why I’m tied up? I don’t remember breaking any of your equipment… recently… Look, the chair was a mistake alright?! I didn’t mean to, honest!”
Veld just stared.
“I’m not here about a chair.”
The expression twisted with worry faded into a blank, blinking visage before brightening again. “Oh! Okay, good then. So, whaddya wanna know, Turk-dude? I’m afraid I don’t share the numbers of the ladies I woo, so you’ll have to just do the leg work yourself.” The blond winked at him with a grin.
Veld glanced at Reno and gave him a ‘see what I mean?’ expression. The redhead looked like he’d just been hit over the head with a brick.
“I want to know if you’re a Wutai spy.”
The blond stared at him for a second before howling with laughter, tears streaming down his face. “A W-wutai s-SPY?” He gasped for air. “Oh man, I haven’t heard that one before! Man, I mean, I was expecting-“ And his speech trailed off into wheezing laughter as he bent over in his chair and tried to collect himself.
After a few minutes of silence among the Turks and the howling laughter of their prisoner, the blond finally recovered enough to stop laughing every time he looked at their faces.
“Just answer the question. Are you a Wutai spy?”
The blond snorted again. “What? No. Jeez, what gave you guys that idea?”
Veld didn’t answer the question. “Can you speak Wutaian?”
The man gave him a funny look before spacing out in thought. “Uh… I think I remember a few things. Like… hello. And… don’t eat my balls. Wait, no that can’t be right…”
Veld’s Wutaian wasn’t nearly as good as Tseng’s, but by the way he’d snorted at that last phrase, the Head Turk must have heard correctly. The blond’s accent was also positively atrocious.
Well, that answered some of their concerns. “Very well. And why do you refuse to join the Turks?”
The expression the blond shot him implied that not only did he think Veld was retarded, he didn’t know whether to laugh or punch him. “Turk?! I’m SOLDIER man, to the bone! I’d never make good Turk material. Why the hell you askin’ that, anyway? Seems like a dumb question to me.”
Veld frowned. “SOLDIER?”
The blond raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? Hence the awesome, you know. And the glowy eyes.”
Now Veld was beginning to become convinced he didn’t want this man in his Turks. What kind of psychotic break led a man to think he was a SOLDIER? “Prove you’re a SOLDIER then. Break out of those chains.”
The blond gave him a funny look. “Well, I was just tryin’ to be polite, but if you insist…” He pulled against the restraints, a funny look crossing his face when they didn’t break. “Huh. You guys are real serious, aren’t ya.” He shrugged and leaned back in the chair, apparently finding a bit of dirt on the ground particularly interesting.
Veld shared a look with Tseng before turning his attention to Reno. “Can you try to snap him out of this?”
The redhead shook himself and put on his usual grin as he stepped forward. “Hey hotstuff. I had a question about our arrangement.”
The blond blinked at him before frowning. “Arrangement? I’m pretty sure we’ve never made an arrangement of any kind.”
Reno’s grin just widened. “Sure we did. Don’t you remember me blowing you last night? Said it was some of the best head you’ve ever had.”
And Veld watched as the imperturbable blond blushed beet red and spluttered, blue eyes widening comically. He floundered for a good thirty seconds before choking and staring. “I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that. Did you date rape me or something?! Is this some kind of joke? Whatever it is you think I did, I’m sorry! Okay? So can you stop playing games and let me go?”
Reno turned and gave Veld another ‘what the fuck?’ look. The head of the Turks just shrugged.
“Uh, look Blondie. The things you and I did the other night were completely consensual. You made sure of that.”
Blue eyes still continued to look alarmed. “I’m pretty sure I would have remembered turning gay overnight! This isn’t funny… any…” He looked back and forth between the deadly serious faces of the Turks in the room with him. His joking, light expression abruptly changed into one of pure seriousness. “Why am I here? This isn’t funny.”
Veld frowned. “You’re here because we have observed many inconsistencies concerning your records and your behaviour and skills over the past few weeks. We were going to offer you a place in the Turks…” But now we’re pretty sure you’re psychotic, or you have MPD.
The blond’s frown deepened. “Huh. And why would you do something like that?”
Veld had to suppress his amused and annoyed emotions so they wouldn’t show on his face. “Now? I have no idea.”
. , . , .
Zack watched the Turks leave with a frown. Why in the world would Turks want to recruit him? Nothing was making sense. Not to mention the thin chains they’d restrained him with. Who in their right mind put a SOLDIER in regular handcuffs and chains? He’d been expecting titanium, metal sleeves to hold his arms together, not this crap.
Not to mention that when he’d tested them the first time and made a face, they’d actually believed he hadn’t used his full strength.
Zack may be careless, energetic, and friendly, but he’d never been stupid.
He needed to blow this joint and find Seph. If anyone could help, it was the General.
After he’d waited a good thirty minutes and the Turks hadn’t come back in, he decided it was time to make his move. If they’d just stepped out for a short chat, they would have come back already. They were either reporting to their superior or trying to decide what they’d do next, so they probably wouldn’t still be standing out in the hallway.
Focusing the mako strength flowing through his veins, Zack snapped the handcuffs holding wrists together and got to work on the chains around his legs. Finally, he just got irritated with how stubborn they were being and pulled the steel chair out of the concrete it was bolted into. After that it was a simple enough matter of just walking out of his binds like one stepped out of dirty laundry.
Knowing that the door was made entirely of metal and he wouldn’t be able to kick it in, he stared ponderously at the chair and then the doorknob.
Perhaps it was time for a Sephironian trick. Walking up to the door, he knocked three times like the Turks had.
Nothing.
Aw drat, was this not going to work?
Just as he prepared to go back and grab the chair, the door opened. Zack slipped under the Turk’s outstretched arm and nailed him straight in the nuts.
The second Turk in the hallway pointed his gun, but Zack was too fast for him. With a grin, he bounced at the surprised man and got past his defences with a burst of mako-induced speed. After knocking out the second guy, he scratched his head and looked down both sides of the hallway.
With a shrug, he took off at his fastest run, enjoying the way his body seemed to buzz with energy. Just before he hit the door, he tried to slow down and noticed with some alarm that he didn’t even have shoes on. Pinwheeling to try and slow down, he caught himself on the frame of the door with a jarring thud. Giving his head a shake to clear the whiplash, he slipped out the door and glanced around.
Hmm… Large room. Ballroom, it looked like. Actually… He frowned. It looked a hell of a lot like the ballroom he’d been forced to go to for the annual Shinra… party…
His eyes widened in disbelief. He was in one of Shinra’s mansions?? Damn. Slipping off to the side, to a hidden door that he remembered from way back when he’d tested the security, he entered into the Servants Domain.
Because that’s what it was, really. No rich boys deigned to brave these tiny halls.
He made his way down the hallway and looked around curiously as the cramped space opened into what was obviously a laundry room. Piles of clothing gathered under chutes in the ceiling, and off to the side was a shelving unit with folded clothes on it. Looking down at his thin and quite obvious prison clothes, he wandered over to the shelves and pulled down what appeared to be a duplicate of maid outfits.
In fact, they were all maid outfits.
Zack scratched the back of his head. Looks like he’d have to bite this bullet!
It wasn’t the first time he’d cross dressed. No, Aerith was to blame for that… He shuddered at the memory of being dragged to girls night at a gay bar as ‘punishment’ for missing a date with her.
Pulling the dress on, he shoved a pair of socks into the chest area and tightened the bow around his waist to hide his more boxy frame. Pulling the stockings up over his hair-smattered legs, he slipped into a pair of shoes he guessed would fit decent. Nothing he wanted to be scaling walls with, but a SOLDIER had to do what a SOLDIER had to do.
Running a hand through his rather distinct, spiky hair with a frown, he looked around for any kind of maid-like head covering. Spying something on a nearby shelf, he brightened and grabbed it, pulling the cap on his head, shoving loose strands of hair inside, and tightening the dark blue strings that would hold it in place.
Looking down at himself, he hummed appreciatively. He pulled off navy blue good.
Picking the pile of prison clothes off the floor, he shoved them into a pile of what was most likely Shinra’s dirty underwear.
Eeew...
Now, to get out of here…
“You there!”
Zack kept walking as if he hadn’t heard, hoping whoever it was wasn’t talking to him.
A hand grabbed him and spun him around. He blinked wide-eyed at the woman standing there, looking quite imposing and generally pissed about life.
“What are you doing wandering around here when we have dinner to serve, hm? Laundry can wait until later tonight!”
Zack grinned sheepishly and did his best to look blushingly bashful. “I-I’m sorry! I’m just so- turned around today.” Giving the lady his best puppy dog eyes, he did his best to look sad and pitiful.
The lady’s expression softened. “Hm… Are you new, girl? I hadn’t realized Master Shinra had found another one.”
Zack’s eyes widened for a moment as he processed that. Oh right. He’d heard about Rufus banging the staff and occasionally hiring a pretty thing to keep her within… groping distance. Focusing on his embarrassment, he let the heat rush to his cheeks and bashfully looked down at the floor.
“Look. I understand you’re nervous, but you can’t hide back here forever. Did Agatha give you to someone to train?”
Zack chewed his lip and played with the edge of his skirt, hoping his pitiful display would incite her to throw him a bone.
Mission Escape the Hen House: Start
A hand snagged his chin and pulled his head up. He stared at the hard lines of the woman’s face with some amount of trepidation. Her eyes had softened, however, as they traveled over his face. “You’re a cute one. Where did he find you?”
Zack’s mind drew a blank. He had no idea why he was here. Though, if that redheaded Turk was telling the truth, apparently he’d been… His face flushed red. He’d never been with a man. Didn’t want to be with a man. Still thought the Turk was messing with him.
Her eyes flashed knowingly. “One of his trysts, then. Did he just promise you a job or more?”
Zack shifted nervously. Well, didn’t really have an answer for that either.
Apparently women had some sort of unspoken secret language, though, because she just nodded knowingly and let him go. “Come. We’ve still dinner to serve. You can clean away the used plates, or something. You ever cleaned dishes before?”
Zack nodded energetically with a smile. He knew how to do that! There were usually backdoors near kitchens, too, so they could take the trash out. Perfect escape route.
She led him down another long hallway into a room that had the SOLDIER freezing in trepidation. The panic of the people rushing about was quite… well, it didn’t do much for his already jangled nerves. The lady dragged him over to the sink and got him to work drying dishes and stacking him on the counter for someone else to put away.
Zack used the moments he could spare his attention to assess the room and note the exits. When he saw one of the busboys take the trash out the far left door, he grinned slightly to himself and put another plate on the counter.
Mission Escape the Hen House: Exit Located
“You!”
Zack blinked as he was abruptly grabbed by the shoulder and dragged over by one of the cooks. He stared up at the man with trepidation as he was put in front of the food.
“You’re taking these out. The busboy’s already cleared the Master Shinra’s plates, but the usual server’s run off to the bathroom again. Bloody hormones. What are you doing staring at me, cotton-for-brains?! Get going!” the cook snapped irritably, motioning Zack out the door.
This…
Was not looking good.
Grabbing the plates in a daze, he absently noticed they were the exact same dish. Well, at least he didn’t have to tell what went where.
Going towards the door the cook at pointed to, he tentatively stuck his head out and sighed in relief when he noticed the long table was currently set for two people. When he walked the rest of the way into the room, he froze at the sight of the Turks at the exits to the room.
Come on Zack, act natural…
Making his way quickly over to the table, he placed one of the plates before the fatter and older President Shinra, eeping when his ass was pinched quite unnecessarily. Quickly making his way over to the Vice President’s seat, he placed the other plate before him and quickly sketched a bow before turning to leave.
“Wait.”
Zack froze and hesitantly turned back around, keeping his head low and his stance as demure and proper as he could.
“Come here.”
Zack walked closer to the Vice President and tried not twitch suspiciously.
“Closer.”
Zack was standing just next to his chair now. A hand reached out and pulled up his chin. Zack blinked at him and hoped to the Goddess that the man didn’t recognize him.
Smug lips pulled into a wider smirk. “You’re cute. You shouldn’t be so nervous. I don’t… bite.”
“Rufus. If you could please keep such things outside of the dining hall?”
Annoyance flashed in the blond’s eyes as he glanced at his father. Probably because the President was such a hypocritical asshole. How dare he pinch this fine, masculine ass!
“You may go,” the Vice President said quietly, and Zack sketched another hasty bow before beating his retreat, careful not to meet the eyes of the Turks in the room.
Just as he was heading through the servant’s side door, Zack caught sight of Tseng coming through the main entrance to the hall with a stormy expression on his face.
Shit!
Slipping through the door, he went to the closest trash bin that looked moderately full and pulled it out, tying it and taking it out the door he’d seen the busboy go earlier. The cooks and dishwashers in the room barely gave him a passing glance.
The burst of fresh air was quite welcome. He stood there for a moment, taking stock of his surroundings and mentally comparing it to the mental map he had of the mansion.
They were in the back corner, and the only thing between him and freedom was a ridiculously tall wall, cameras, and security guards with machine guns.
Piece of cake.
Tossing the garbage into the bin on his way by, he ripped the white apron off and stuffed it down his front. Leave no evidence, make yourself less visible. Infiltration 101.
Reaching the edge of the building, he stayed close to the ground and watched the guard for a short while. If he could get up on the wall, it would be easy to use his feminine wiles and knock the guy out.
Not one for thinking much once he got the basic outline of a plan, Zack used every ounce of his mako-induced speed and raced towards the corner of the wall. Jumping from one side to the other, he got to the top of the wall and landed right at the feet of the security guard.
“Hey cutie,” he said with a grin before punching the guy in the face and catching his body before it hit the ground too hard. Grinning to himself, he eyed the other side of the wall and jumped over when he caught sight of the street.

That was the upside of in-town mansions. They were in town. Once you got out of the courtyard, and across the street, you were basically scot free.
Landing quietly on the ground, he streaked across the street and into a nearby alleyway. He didn’t stop to wait and see if he’d avoided suspicion, he just kept booting it for the one person he knew could get him out of this mess.
Never was he so glad Seph was sick of already living at the company enough to have a house in a residential area. Now it was merely a matter of getting from sector five to sector two.
Zack kept running in spite of the looming exhaustion he could feel in his body. He was slowing down, too. Had they drugged him? Maybe he hadn’t eaten in a few days. That was known to knock out a SOLDIER’s energy like a freight train. Something about mako making the body burn more food.
Zack had never bothered to pay attention to the particulars, he just knew he had to eat a lot.
At least he had quite a bit of stamina, he noted to himself with some confusion. He’d never been big on doing endurance training, but his body was still going pretty strong in spite of the fact that his speed had slowed to that of a normal man instead of the SOLDIER First Class he was.
Slipping onto the train platform, he momentarily panicked when he realized that he had no money on him.
Shit!
Looking around at the semi-busy evening crowd, he frowned and chewed his lip, trying to figure out how he was going to get to Seph’s now.
“Excuse me, miss, are you lost?”
Zack spun around and stared up hopefully at the man who’d approached him from behind. “I… I’m afraid I lost my wallet, and I’m trying to get home.” He bowed his head and tried to ham up the genuine dejection he was feeling right now.
The man held a few gil out to him and Zack bounced upright with a bright grin. “Thank you so much!!” he said, glad that his voice was coming out rather higher than he was used to. Must be the stress.
Kind brown eyes smiled at him as they both got on the train together. “You coming from work?”
Zack nodded and smiled, glancing out the window as the train got moving. With the route he was on, he should be near Seph’s house in around ten or twenty minutes. Then all this crazy would be over.
Feeling an abrupt wave of fatigue, he let himself collapse into one of the seats and leaned his head back against the glass window behind him. The tall man with kind eyes was watching him, he noticed, and absently wondered why.
“Where do you work?”
Zack glanced down and noticed that his skirts had been pushed up when he sat. Blushing in embarrassment at the manly leg he’d almost flashed, he sat up a bit and shifted the fabric until he was more presentable. “U-uh… catering.” Well, technically he’d worked it for a few minutes. That counted, right?
The man nodded. “I take it that’s a uniform? It looks rather nice on you. Brings out your eyes.”
Alarm bells started ringing in Zack’s head. He smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks! My boyfriend thinks so too!”
The man looked disappointed, slouching slightly where he stood nearby, holding onto the bar attached to the ceiling. Brown eyes moved up to his face and his smile faded slightly, but lost none of its kindness. “Well your boyfriend obviously knows what he’s talking about, then. You’ve been working the job for long?”
Zack’s smile became slightly more genuine. Well, at least there were still decent people in the world! “Just started tonight, actually. I was really nervous.” He went to scratch the back of his head and stopped when he realized that his hair was still hidden by the convenient maid’s cap. He laughed nervously.
The man nodded. “Yes. A new job can be quite frightening.” The train came to a stop and he offered Zack another smile. “Well, this is my stop. It was nice meeting you, miss. I hope you find your wallet.”
Zack smiled brightly and waved. “Thanks, mister! You’re a real life saver!”
The man waved back even as the doors closed, watching the train continue on to the next stop. Zack watched him until he was out of sight, then turned his attention to the other people in the car. There were quite a few considering it was probably around late dinner time, if the lighting as he’d run through Midgar had been any indication. Zack examined the route map on the wall of the car and double checked that he was heading in the right direction. Five more stops to go.
The next ten minutes passed rather quickly, with people going in and out of the car with each stop. When it was Zack’s, he hopped out of his seat and winced when his feet protested unhappily. While the maid’s shoes had good grip probably originally intended for not slipping on the floor rather than climbing walls, they were by no stretch of the imagination comfortable.
Zack walked briskly the rest of the way to Sephiroth’s pad, knowing that it would be rather unusual for someone in his clothing to be running somewhere like the hounds of Costa del Sol were at his ankles. Besides, if he hadn’t lost the Turks at this point, he was screwed anyway since they’d probably be on the roofs with tranq guns.
Letting out a relieved sigh, Zack hopped over the gate to prevent that terrible squeak Seph had never fixed on purpose. Paranoid bastard. Walking up the meticulously trimmed yard with the rock garden inspired by Wutaian culture, he let out a slow, tired breath. Almost there.
Skipping over the stair that was supposed to creak, he started pounding on the door of the rather small and unassuming house before him. It only took around twenty seconds for the General to swing the door open with an irritated look, and Zack pushed past him into the house.
“Do you have any idea the kind of night I’ve had? Or has it been a day? Or days? I can’t even remember anymore.” Ripping the maid’s cap off his head, he headed straight for the living room and collapsed down onto Seph’s comfortable leather couch. He let out an explosive sigh.
Boots walked up to the couch, and Zack could feel Sephiroth’s eyes drilling into him. “What, no concern for your friend at all?” He yawned and curled up on his side. “Mmm I need new clothes and I think yours are probably gonna be too long in the legs. You’re too damned tall, Seph.”
A hand touched his forehead, and Zack opened his eyes with surprise. “Huh?”
Green eyes were watching him with an intensity he wasn’t used to. “You do not appear to be ill. And why are you in a maid’s uniform?”
Zack let out a tired sigh. “You wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had,” he said dejectedly, giving the General his best pout.
But Seph just continued to stare at him with a very funny expression. “Strife, how do you know where I live?”
-Toki Mirage-
You would not believe what I’ve been suffering with this chapter. The fic tried to go all serious and emo on me, and I was fighting with myself tooth and nail, because that’s the last thing I want!! T-T But I found a balance with my escape plan, which I hope you all enjoyed. The original plan was too… unworkable in the end. And this was entertaining to write. The torture, which I was actually looking forward to writing, killed the fic for me a while there. Probs because I’m used to this thing being so light hearted.
I hope you all like the slaved-over product! Lots of shit hitting fans in this boy’s future. Mwahaha!
I know a lot of you have questions about ‘wtf just happened there’, but all will be explained in the future. Feel free to shoot questions just in case there’s stuff that doesn’t occur to me, but there is a Mastah Plan. No fear :)
Happy sleeps, yo
- 8
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The Little Guy