Author's Notes: Been a long time since I did anything for any sort of contest. I've done lots of challenges and all. But the most recent contests were like, October of LAST year. And all crack. Don't believe me? Puppet Mayhem, Random Madness, Anything You Can Do, and Total Humiliation were all old contest pieces. They were also all crack. So WAFF, that isn't as easy. But, I SHALL overcome! Of course, those had actual pseudo-plots. This one is just a snapshot in the life of our two beloved Turks. Of course, we know how good I'm getting with those. Too bad I can't be evil…

Anyone that can crack the password and tell me WHAT it means gets a gift.

Password

Reno wasn't the sort just to sit around and do nothing all day. Of course, it had been his ideas of doing 'something' that had gotten him here in the first place. Apparently stealing that miniature Hell House from Hojo and slipping it into Reeve's model of Midgar for the sake of 'realism' wasn't something Tseng appreciated. Neither, for some reason, did the Wutain or Rufus enjoy Reno's idea of fun when the redhead had slipped to the part of the basement that handled the 'royal family's' clothes washing and dry cleaning so that he could drop a red shirt into a load. Apparently Rufus didn't like the idea of pink suits. Who would have guessed it? Well, the point of the matter was that the two had gotten fed up with his wonderful jokes, so here was Reno, on a Friday night no less, watching the security feed. A job usually done by whatever SOLDIER had REALLY pissed their superior off during the week. If this were not a tyranny Reno would most definitely complain about cruel and unusual punishment.

This was pure and total torture. A countless number of monitors with nothing worth while on them. There were several you could see Hojo and his assistants on, scurrying about their bothersome little tasks, making some new abomination or another. Another showed Reeve at his desk, head down sleeping and drooling on a report. Cute really, black mail material definitely, but not something Reno could stare at for very long before growing bored. If the monitors got anything else, even an infomercial, Reno would probably be watching that instead. And he hated infomercials. There was only so many times you could watch a knife cutting a can before it got really old. That particular one had been on the air for about ten years now. Everyone had a set and still the guy was making tons of gil. How did the guy keep going!?

His fingers drummed over and over on the console, glaring at the monitors. Really, why did they have so many? It wasn't like anyone was stupid enough to even try to break into the building. Sure, maybe a few for Hojo was important because things might try to break OUT, but no where else was important. That was what security details and guards and the robots were for. And in Rufus's case, what Tseng and Dark Nation were for. So why was he forced to be here? It was only a mini-house and some pink undies after all. Damn, where was that clock at anyway? … It was only midnight!? This was so not fair!

Now, Reno was one of those people who had a very firm belief in the idea of luck. Luck was about as important to the red-haired Turk as alcohol on the weekends and lots of pretty ladies fawning over him at some club or another. Okay, so many not AS important as the booze and babes, or as bringing Rude with him, but pretty high up there. Luck was a lady after all and she liked to smile down on him. There were plenty of scars littered all over his body that would prove that little fact. So many blows that should have been fatal but left him smiling like something that smiled smugly when he woke up in the hospital dead to hear that his opponent was in a body bag somewhere, if THEY were lucky. And they usually weren't. So, as it would be, luck was smiling down on him again tonight. In Reno's mind she did owe him after all. If she had only been treating him good during the pranks then he wouldn't be in this situation. Tonight's incarnation of the lady's pleasure was the fact that, merely playing around with the keys of one of the numerous keyboards around him, Reno just happened to type in the right code. Really, you had a better chance of going into Hojo's lab as a test subject and coming out still human than you did of accidentally stumbling upon the code or the fact that there was need for some code.

Within moments the monitor nearest said keyboard was no longer showing the most boring display of a freaking water fountain (why would they be watching that anyway?) and turned instead to a black screen with a single white underscore flashing on it. Okay, so maybe that wasn't too much more interesting as a whole, but it was something he could work with. After all, he was the leading hacker and computer specialist in the Turks. Hell, chances were that only Reeve himself could bypass any of the security measures and firewalls Reno dealt with. It was how they had come across the man who would be executive anyway.

Now came the fun. Finally there was something to look forward to for the long night. Give him a computer and Reno would amuse himself for hours on end. And it all started with figuring out just what the computer did. His slender fingers flew over the keys entering command upon command upon command. For some reason each came up with the same response. Absolutely nothing. The same black screen over and over and over. It was proving to be quite the challenge, and Reno was more than keen to break the system now. He would know why this computer here, what secrets it held. You didn't hide a computer as a basic monitor for absolutely no reason.

"Work Damnit" he typed.

"" the computer responded.

"Work damnit please?"

"" it insisted.

"Open sesame."

""

"Open says me."

""

"If you don't open up, yo, I'll blow you up."

""

"I'll go get Rude," Reno typed. This wasn't right. What computer was this to deny him his demands for information?

"Welcome Back Mister Urnar " the monitor said.

The red-head was so shocked that he pushed back from the computer. Problem was that his chair didn't roll. Instead it fell back and Reno fell with it. Now one thing ran through Reno's mind, other than the obligatory 'ow that fucking hurt yo'. Why the hell did the computer think he was Rude? Hell, what was the computer doing knowing about Rude anyway? This he had to figure out. Before his mind could process the potential damage, Reno was up, pulling the chair back up and plopping down. Okay, so he was in now at least. Now he could find out just what this thing was for.

"Please enter password now " the monitor prompted

Password? Reno blinked and glared at the computer. What was this piece of technology to demand a password of him? He was Reno! He could steal from Hojo and deface the belongings of Rufus! He made grown men like Reeve cry! No computer had the right to demand a password from him. This would take some cunning.

"Here you go little computer," he hissed, an hour later with no progress at all. "Take this cookie instead. Come on. I'll trade you it for the password. Or how about a nice little toy horse? What? You don't want that?"

"Access Denied " the computer said, screen going completely dark. Yet again Reno was forced to restart the system and enter in what there had to be for him to get back to the password input screen. He'd tried everything. Rude's birthday. His own birthday. Everything from Rude's favorite food to his measurements. How Reno came to know the measure of Rude's inseam was something that he wasn't going to disclose. Nothing he tried worked. Nothing at all.

"It's a simple algorithm you know," a voice cut into Reno's grumblings and mumblings. "Surely math can't stump you."

The younger Turk turned quickly to look at his best friend. If anything, all this frustration could end now. If the system was Rude's then the big man would know the password. All he had to do was get the shaded-wonder to pony it up. And he'd start by buttering him up first.

"Normally no. But this is one hard password man. Been at it for over an hour yo. You've got be beat Rude."

Rude smirked slightly and moved to stand by his friend. Granted, he wasn't supposed to be here tonight, but the fail-safes he had instructed Reeve to program into the private terminal had paged him the first time Reno had been forced to restart the system for failing to find the password three times. For nearly ten minutes he had been watching the slender red-head try idea after idea, and it had taken his self control to keep from laughing at the male's failures. But now… Now it was time to throw the other man a bone.

"Reeve programmed it for me," Rude said, as if that could explain anything.

"That would explain why it wouldn't take the cookie," Reno sighed. While his counterpart didn't quite get the computer reference, the bald man did seem more than happy to finally insert the password.

"18051415-011404-18210405," he typed, fingers, though not as nimble as Reno's, flew over the keypad with a familiarity that couldn't be mistaken. He had to insert that string often to get it that easily.

Reno, he just stared at the password for the second it was there on the screen, unable to prevent the stinging he now felt in his eyes. There wasn't much that could make a Turk cry mind you, but this… this was one of those things.

"Rude… You…"

"Yeah," was all the response that the red-head got.

And, in truth, it was all he needed. While the screen finally came to life, showing off what was probably Rude's private journal or something, Reno was pouncing on his partner of nearly eight years now. Were Rude not so large and if Reno had not pinned him to a wall they probably both would have fallen over. Not that either would have cared. They were far too wrapped up in the kiss, their first kiss, to give a damn if they were standing or sitting or anything else.

--------

Three AM was not the best hour of the day for Reeve, though for most people it wasn't EXACTLY an hour of the day. It was a time for sleeping or getting wasted. It wasn't the kind of time where you went up to the security bank to check up on something. Three AM was not a time that you did actual work if you were sane. Then again, Reeve couldn't exactly hold any sort of claim on sanity these days. Truth was that he'd only just woken up and noticed the alert on his computer. The alert that someone had hacked the private terminal Reeve had especially set up for the use of Turk Rude. Now there were other terminals elsewhere that he had secured for Tseng and Rufus, and he was currently working on one for Elena, but the idea that someone would not only find, but hack one of his terminals was almost unbelievable for the executive. Even that red haired menace posing as a Turk couldn't find, much less hack into his systems. Reeve was the master of all things electronic in this building for crying out loud!

So that left one answer. Some damn outsider had come in, come to the security room, taken out whoever was on monitor duty, and found the terminal. Damnit. And Reeve was probably the only one in the building too. It had taken the whole of ten minutes to leave Tseng a voice mail to call him back (because some things were better not said in voice mail) and decide to take matters in his own hands. And by 'in his own hands' he really did mean having his gun out and standing just outside of the security room. One hand actually held his keycard, but that wasn't the point. Carefully he slid the card through, listening to the slight whoosh that resulted from the opening of the door, and swung around with the gun in front of him.

Seconds later he pushed the close button and backed away. Okay, so there wasn't an intruder who had hacked the system. But damnit did they HAVE to do it in the security room? Where anyone, namely Reeve, could walk in on them? Now he'd have to scrub his eyes out! There was always something that someone could not handle at some point. Apparently for Reeve it was seeing Reno and Rude going at it like messed up bunnies in the security room at three AM on a Friday… scratch that, Saturday morning.

'So maybe Reno HAS finally cracked my programming,' Reeve thought as he backed away from the door. Maybe Rude had been right too. Even if they were only numbers, Reno had managed to see the message in them. Looks like he'd owe Tseng that hundred gil in the morning.