The Unbeta'd Christmas Special
Green of the Planet

Here is a sneak preview of the first two new chapters of what will be the rewrite of Planet's Eyes, renamed Green of the Planet. Yes that is still a reference to Reno/Harry's eyes. Because I don't wish to lose the number of C2's that have listed this story, or the reviews, I'm not going to be posting up the revised and fleshed and changed chapters until I've completed them all, including the one to come after. Since this little thing hasn't been updated in a while though I figured I'd give everyone a treat.

So you guys are getting a sneak preview. I recommend being Anon when you review here because this WILL be replaced by an actual chapter at a later date. In the meantime you guys get to see bits and bobs of the new chapters, so rejoice!

The Escape To The French Countryside

They arrived in a sleepy town in the French countryside. Almost instantly after appearing Sirius crashed to his knees, cradling his still bleeding and unconscious godson with as much gentleness as he could, breathing heavily. Tears that he held back at the Dursley house began to fall down his cheeks ever so slightly.

"Harry…" he whispered weakly, his hand shook as he raised one to brush his fingers against the teen's pale and gaunt face. Harry should never have looked this way, he should never have been left there. If only Sirius hadn't let his emotions get the better of his judgment—if only—

"That's not going to help you now, you know."

Sirius swallowed heavily and murmured back, "I know." He looked up to see the glowing, transparent form of Ifalna.

"Is it safe here?" Ifalna asked softly, kneeling down before Sirius and Harry. She cast a greenish light across their forms, flickering and wavering almost like a flame. One transparent, slender hand came to brush Harry's hair lightly from his face sadly.

Sirius breathed in deeply, steadingly, and murmured, "I have a contact here that owes me a debt. We'll be safe for another day or two until I can side-along again." Gently he stood to his feet and shifted his godson in his arms. Iflana likewise rose beside him and, as Sirius started walking down the dirt path of the sleepy town—there were no roads in sight—she stepped along behind him. Her footsteps left glowing imprints for just a second before sinking into the earth.

Sirius' eyes narrowed at the sight and he murmured, "Lifestream…" almost subconsciously.

Ifalna nodded, "Yes. I am made up of it…as I am no longer flesh and blood of the living, I am pure Lifestream. Souls of the long deceased…."

"Cetra, am I right?" Sirius asked as they walked. He navigated the roads as carefully as he could; looking for the one house he knew would be hidden well. Ifalna behind him leaned a bit to the right, her question in her body language. Sirius grimaced. "It just came to me."

"You do not know what Cetra are?" she asked softly, curiously. Sirius shook his head. "We are the Voice the…peacekeepers—healers—of the Planet. We hear Her words and translate for the rest of humankind. We hear Her cries and heal the hurts on Her flesh. In essence we are extensions of Her will…the healers to forestall the WEAPONS." Ifalna cupped her hands by her heart as she spoke, her green-ish eyes just a tad distant, her face twisted with a bit of sadness.

She said, "Most of us…all of us, I suppose, are not among the living anymore."

Sirius frowned and asked softly, "Surely not all of the Cetra are gone…? Wouldn't that spell disaster, then, if you are the healers of the Planet?" Ifalna smiled almost bitterly.

"The Calamity wiped us out until the majority of our clans went into hiding. These days the gift—the nature of the Cetra—are gone. I was the last to fully understand our heritage although I suppose…I suppose there is my daughter, Aerith, but…she's too young. She doesn't…understand."

Sirius stopped and turned and started, "But—" yet Ifalna shook her head and interrupted softly, "That is a lesson for another time. You must get him safe, first. We'll talk more later," and then she disappeared into streams of what Sirius now realized was Lifestream.

The Black Lord frowned, a sense of sadness washing through him, but he knew Ifalna was right. He had to get Harry safe first, and that meant getting out of Europe alive. Priorities now, he could settle his curiosity later.

The Not-Quite Romance of Ifalna and Sirius Black

From Vietnam Sirius arrived in Japan, the final stop before they—him and Harry—would depart for the Known Lands. Ifalna said that Japan was really the only way they could even find transport, as the Japanese were sort of cousins to those of Wutai, the only people in the Known Lands that even knew about what Ifalna called the Ignorant Lands, or where Sirius and the rest of the world resided in.

They spent close to three months in Japan. Sirius intermittently cast cure, learned the local language and the Wutain dialects—which seemed to be an almost combination of Japanese and Russian, and spent nightly lessons with Ifalna. The ghostly woman would share both her life story, the stories of the Cetra, and explain Sirius' own abilities and duties to the Black Lord.

Ifalna would only appear at night, and typically she would form at Harry's bedside. Sirius was witness to her catering to his godson all the times she arrived. They would talk as she soothed Harry in his constant unending slumber. Sirius would find answers to his questions, and then even more questions than answers at the end of those nights.

One night, towards the end of their stay in Japan, Sirius carefully stroked his godson's hair. He contemplated Ifalna and the changes she had brought into his life. A slightly bitter smile was on his lips as silent tears trailed down his cheeks. Every positive change, every single thing that was good in his life could be accounted towards Ifalna. He enjoyed their talks, liked hearing her laugh…

"Sirius?"

The Black Lord sighed and turned his grey-blue eyes towards her glowing form. He ignored how the tears still fell down his face and instead murmured, "Ifalna."

Ifalna looked down at her hands, her face a mask of sorrow. She knew what he knew, and her green eyes—just a shade shy of the Lifestream, conveyed her own sadness.

"I didn't mean…" she whispered and Sirius shook his head lightly.

"It's no fault of your own," he replied softly. Ifalna took a step forward, hesitant, and then suddenly she crossed the room and wrapped her form around Sirius. She buried her face into his neck and uttered, "I'm sorry." One of Sirius' hands came up and rested upon her transparent, delicate fingers.

"I know." He closed his eyes as more tears fell down his cheeks. "I know."

That was the first, and last, night that either Sirius or Ifalna spoke upon the subject of the Black Lord's feelings. The next day Sirius gathered a now fully healed Harry into his arms and made his way towards the docks. With the help of the ghostly woman he had unearthed a ship that was willing to transport him and his unconscious godson to Wutai.

It would be three weeks worth of travel before they arrived in Wutai.

The Costa Del Sol Incident Part 2 Aftermath

Grim was finalizing the payment for the night when the earth shook and the Planet screeched loudly in his ear.

Danger—chosen—distress—help—he needs—

Almost instantly Grim froze, his eyes widened in horror, and he raced out of the inn and down the street. People screamed and mass panic and mayhem overtook the streets. There was smoke, a few fires, and after he rounded a corner, nothing but flat land and crumbled buildings. Leaning against one of the crumbled buildings was a wide eyed, pale, and shaking Reno.

Grim cursed and darted forward, ducking under the arms of the local police. As an afterthought he turned himself invisible and raced out into the rubble. He leaped over jutting rocks, danced around broken bits of glass. He ignored partial bodies and the curl of spilt blood as best he could. Instead he worked his way towards Reno with a single minded purpose.

There were five charred corpses around the shaking fifteen year old. His hair was longer, almost closer to mid-back, but there was no mistaking the fiery red sheen. Grim knelt down, hesitant to touch, and rasped, "Red?" Reno's head jerked up. He was in a full blown panic, something Grim had not ever experienced with his godson before.

He never wanted to experience it again.

Help—calm—he needs—you need—hurry!—must leave—now!—danger!

"Oh, red…" Grim muttered and scooted forward.

"G-Grim?" Reno shakily uttered and Grim scooped him up into his arms. He shielded the teen from view, rendering them both invisible—neither noticed that Reno could see him before hand—and then quickly led Reno from the wreckage towards the docks. "G-Grim wh-where are we g-going?"

"We hafta move, red," Grim rumbled softly and tugged Reno along. "Quickly, quickly."

"Wh-What happened?" Reno whimpered. "D-Did I d-do that?"

"Hush, cub, we'll figure this out soon." Grim pulled them behind a building and shed the invisibility with a short wave of his wand. He tugged Reno along again; the teen stumbled slightly behind him. They made their way toward the harbormaster who gaped over where the flattened landscape could easily been seen from. Grim harshly got his attention, practically tossed his gil at the man, and got them a swift escape from Costa Del Sol.

On the boat that night Ifalna came to Grim as Harry slept her face a mix of regret. Grim had almost immediately pulled her into an embrace. He held her tightly, his eyes closed, his breath slightly shaky.

"I'm so sorry," Ifalna murmured into his chest. "If I had known…" Grim pulled back and stared into her eyes. He asked—demanded—one thing.

"How do I prevent it."

Reno and Rod Meet For the First Time

It was strange to know it was winter, but for the temperature to remain unchanged. It was always hot and humid and under the Plate. There was always the stench of mako heavily in the air—the tangy taste of it in the food and the water, even. There was no 'night' or 'day' except where the sunlight filtered down from the areas of construction that was still going on, on the Upper Plate; or when Mako traveling through the pipes lit up the sky.

Reno found the lack of change quite baffling the first time he realized that the 'season' hadn't switched over. For it to be 'winter' and the same as summer, spring, and fall, just compounded the difference more. In fact it was quite strange to even think that in about a month he and Grim would have lived in the slums for a full year.

It was in December when Reno met Rod, the mudslinging, cursing little gutter rat with a heavy burden laid across his shoulders. The kid was wild haired with chocolate eyes that held the barest hint of a glow like nearly every other slum dweller thanks to all the mako surrounding them.

At the time Reno had been slinking around the shadows of Wall Market, looking for his latest mark. He was rather well known to almost all the local gangs of the Sector as the best thief, fence, and lay of the area. He was even rated higher than Corneo's Honeybee whores, amusingly enough. However everyone knew that if you lay with Reno you were most likely to be penniless when you woke up.

Penniless and naked.

Reno's androgynous features were able to snag even the most closeted of men. Many of his female 'conquests' were forgotten to the wayside by this fact.

It had just so happened that the next corner he rounded had the shorter haired, younger red head cursing up a storm. Three bigger, older, and burlier men had him surrounded. Two held him up by the arms while the third stood menacingly before him, obviously the ring leader. Reno didn't quite catch what the ring leader was saying—something about the kid never amounting to anything or maybe it had something to do with sexual favors or something about not making the cut for something else—but he did notice the kids response.

"Ya fuckin' cunt-licker cock-suckin' ma-screwin' pa-whored little pimps boy ain't gonna last two fuckin' seconds once I get—guh!" the kid doubled over as the ring leader tossed a punch to the gut. Reno winced appreciatively, especially when the boy spat out blood. A little internal bleeding there, it seemed. There was also a bruise or two readily visible—the kid had a shiner on one eye and a split lip.

The ring leader had said something else, undertone and evil-like Reno guessed, but the kid didn't buckle. Not even when a knife was pulled by one of the goons holding him, and a nifty little interesting piece of work that caught Reno's eyes was unveiled by the leader. It folded out into a shape similar to a nightstick Reno'd once seen some bobby's carry back in London. Unlike the nightstick though this little thing had a switch at the base, keen eyes caught how it would function with the flick of the thumb and a squeeze of the handle. He could even hear the faint hum of electricity all the way at the mouth of the alley.

His mouth watered in desire. He wanted that nightstick-thing.

Reno's reaction to the sight before him was inspired by two simple factors: that deep seated 'saving people thing' that he apparently hadn't quite gotten rid of yet (although it was becoming a near miss as the years grew longer) and in part due to his desire to have that interesting little piece of equipment. The red head could do some real damage and have a lot of fun with that. Therefore he slunk through the shadows, aiming closer to the group. Once he was a few feet away and still unnoticed did he speak up in a rather calm drawl, slouched and hands in his pockets.

"Yo, boys, think ya roughed up th' lad 'nough now don'cha 'gree? Ain't doin' no good ta 'ave a dead body 'ere in th' Market, yo. S'bad fa business, y'see? An' ya lads lookin' like ya know good business."

The thugs or gang members or whoever they were reacted slow. They gave Reno enough time to finish his few sentences in that lazy drawl before the ring leader whirled around in shock, swinging his nightstick that cackled with electricity like it was some sort of club. The move was so slow Reno could duck under it easy and practically calmly lashed out with a sharp kick to the guys' knees.

There was a resounding crack as he busted one of the ring leaders kneecaps. The man went down with a hoarse cry, the nightstick clattering away and the electricity function buzzing down to the lowest frequency. With deliberate slowness Reno knelt down and picked up the weapon. He tested it lightly with a few swings, nowhere near expertly but certainly way better than the thug who held it just a second ago.

With a saucy grin Reno flicked off the electricity function—he already had several thoughts of how to modify his new toy later—and propped it lazily against his shoulder as he regarded the remaining two thugs and the still captive kid.

"Now s'I was thinkin', yo," he said lightly, cheerfully, "that ya give up th' kid, y'know? Aft'r all s'ain't like ya really need ta play th' big boys now. We knowin' ya guys ain't killers, yo."

The kid spoke up, his voice muted slightly, "Act'ally th' are."

Reno's smile grew a bit strained and his grip tightened on the nightstick. "Is tha' righ'?" he asked, voice just a bit tighter. "S'well th'n. Best get ta work, yo."

What followed was nothing more than a deadly dance. One thug fell back, gripping the kid tightly with one hand and a knife held loosely in the other. The second dashed forward and swung out with his own switchblade. Nightstick and switchblade clashed more than once, Reno getting in a few bruising hits with his new weapon and in turn getting a few new gashes that may or may not scar over later. Both the thug and the red headed teenage wizard in hiding were fairly evenly matched until Reno was able to find a hole in the thugs guard. He planted his booted heel firmly into the others gut. A sharp rap with the nightstick had him down for the count like the moaning ring leader.

The third slid the knife away and pulled out a gun in response. Reno paled just a bit but held his ground. He would not run, he would not run. Guns could be beat, he knew this for a fact, and he'd lived it. If he allowed himself to let loose the gun was no threat, really. That didn't stop his hand from minutely shaking. He hated guns.

The kid stomped down on the thug's instep, and then provided a sharp palm thrust up. The gun went flying into the air and skidded into the shadows. An elbow into the guys gut and a sharp wiggling motion the brat was freed. Reno darted in to finish him off—rend him unconscious but not dead. He'd rather not have any bodies added to his rap sheet thank you. Once that was done he grinned, pleased with how little damage he'd gotten out of the fight.

Then there was a shout of, "Look out!" and a loud bang of a gun going off. Fiery hot pain blossomed through his chest and green eyes went wide in shock. Reno went down like a sack of potatoes, crumbling to the ground. His red hair fanned out like a halo of death. His vision began to blur and darken; his hearing was already muffled as everything began to fade away. The last thing he could remember was a faint scuffle, muffled sounds of a gun going off, and the brats chocolate eyes peering at him.

Then there was only darkness.

Cake?

Now it was Aerith's fourteenth birthday. With the help of Grim and Reno—and possibly Rod although Reno couldn't prove anything—they'd gotten Elmyra and the little Cetra girl to give her Turk watchers the slip. Both knew they wouldn't be able to pull a similar stunt for quite some time; the Turks would be doubly observant after today. Still they considered the endeavor worth it, if only to hold a small little party between the four—the others had yet to meet Reno's little pet-project named Rod—of them in Grim's humble abode.

Aerith chattered on about her special church where she could grow flowers. She was saddened that they didn't have the dark beauty that Grim's own flora held; hers were bright and lively like their caretaker. They gave off the familiar feeling of peace though, and Aerith claimed that being near them made the whispers of the Planet quieter, like how being in Grim's place provided pure silence to her.

Reno presented a small, blue wrap for which Aerith could tie back her every lengthening hair that he'd purchased with stolen gil—not that anyone but Grim knew that. Her last band—a green one from her birth mother Ifalna—was frayed to the point that it no longer worked. Aerith happily accepted her new band and with Reno's careful help braided her hair up with this new one. Reno even helped her hide away the little green ball of materia into the braids with a smile.

The party was interrupted as Aerith was eating a slice of cake, listening to Grim's tales of Reno's parents' youth—even Reno hadn't heard this story—by a light knock. Rod was leaning against wall, just inside the entrance to their abode, with a light smirk.

"I wasn' inv'ted, red?" he asked lightly. Elmyra and Grim tensed. Grim was ready to fling curses and Aerith had reached a hand out to grasp the stave, her present from Grim. Reno gave Rod a tense frown. He was beginning to think the fourteen year old nuisance had a death wish.

"Rod," Reno growled lowly. "Th' s'is priv't, yo. I ain't carin' if'n ya gonna b' th' 'ead o' th' fuckin' world. Ya ain't fuckin' up th' s'one, yo. Go'i?" Rod raised his hands in an 'I come in peace' gesture, ginning widely.

"Sorry, sorry!" he laughed. "Ya know 'ow 'm like, red. Th' s'lov'ly lady bein' th' flo'er girl, ya? Sh' bein' Cetra, ta, m'right?"

Aerith did pull herself back, clutching the stave before her defensively, eyes wide. Grim took a menacing step forward, growling low in his throat. Reno just slouched down and stuffed his hands in his pockets and slinked over to Rod. He punched the kid sharply in the face with a strong right hook. Rod grunted and messaged at his cheek with a slight wince.

"Ya mebbe th' fuckin' 'ead o' 'Di, but ya still a moron, brat," Reno stated bluntly. "Ya ain't s'posed ta go spewin' out ya facts, idiot. Go'i?" Rod gave a rather serious nod in understanding and received one of Reno's wide hundred watt grins in response. "Good! Now if'n ya ain't doin' nothin' com'ere and' lemme intr'duce ya, yo. Flo'er girl, 'Myra, Pads—this'n b' Rod, th' new 'ead o' 'Di. 'E's young, an' a brat, but 'e means well, yo. Rod meet 'Myra th' flo'er girl's ma, th' flo'er girl, an m'dogfather Grim."

"Wassup?" Rod asked, showing just a bit of his teeth in his smile. Grim sighed irritably and shook his head. Leave it to Reno to make odd friends in high places. Aerith slowly eased up, trusting the older teen to know what he was doing, and gave Rod a small, slightly shy smile.

"Hello," she said softly. She picked up a plate of cake and held it out to Rod as a peace offering. "Cake?"

"W'uld love some, m'lady," Rod murmured as he accepted the plate. The party continued on from there, although nobody except Grim and Elmyra appeared to notice how Rod only kept close to Reno, practically within touching distance at all times.

Fingers would brush innocent enough, but nothing more. Grim did spot the near invisible exchange of something between Rod and Reno—that something being a pair of goggles that Reno would begin to wear the next day and every day after, wrapped tight about his forehead, perfectly placed to hide a certain distinguishing scar. That would also be the day Grim would learn of Reno's near death experience in December, and how it was Rod whom he saved and then saved him in turn. He'd learn that it was through Reno's help that Rod was even able to become combat ready enough to take over the group known simple as 'Di.

Grim couldn't have been more proud; that is until the day Reno joined the Turks.

Tseng and Gun: On a Rooftop

Gun swung her legs idly off the edge of the building as Tseng remained crouched beside her, binoculars held up to his eyes. She had a light grin across her lips as she silently categorized her superior's every single tell with barely contained glee. There was the light muscle spasm in his neck, the slight twitch of his brow, and the half-subconscious twist of his lips. His left pinky tapped out Leviathan's Prayer in High Wutainese in Morse code.

If Gun was accurate in her predictions Tseng was about five seconds shy of committing bloody murder on the nearest person. Said nearest person happened to be Gun herself but she figured that just made everything all the more fun! What was life without a little risk, after all? Heck, you couldn't have their job and not love taking risks.

Softly Gun counted down with just the faintest of breaths but no sound, waiting for the inevitable peak of Tseng's temper. Right on target the Turk SiC ripped the binoculars away from his face. He couldn't contain his snarl of absolute disgust any further. Angrily he tossed the binoculars into Gun's lap with enough force that if she weren't prepared she might have gone tumbling over the edge of the building in surprise.

"You're on surveillance duty," he spat. Gun resisted the urge to cackle.

"Not to your liking?" the blonde asked with a saucy grin. Tseng was stiff as he pulled up from his crouch and began to head towards the door to the stairwell.

"I am not a voyeur," Tseng uttered disgustedly. "I'll leave that to you, thanks."

Gun couldn't resist the cackle this time. She cooed, "Aww, did the big bad mean Shinra employee upset your delicate sensibilities, Tseng? I'm so sorry you had to endure that. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be done soon and we can get right back to a happy Tseng!"

Tseng sighed irritably although the ticks and twitches began to subside. He turned back around and settled against the ledge of the building. His back was to the street and he crossed his wrists over his knees. Dark eyes surveyed the lighter counterparts of his partner for a second before he huffed.

"It would be unprofessional if I left now," he muttered. Gun shot him another saucy grin.

"Oh I knew you'd see it my way," she said. "After all, can't have Veld's rookie screwing up again, can we? Once is enough, right?"

Tseng groaned and buried his head in his knees. "You're as much a rookie as I am, Gun. And it was once! I was new! It was two years ago! Can't people let that go?"

Gun snickered and pulled the binoculars up to her eyes. She began to watch with the barest of interest their target. "Oh you've gotten better, everyone knows it, especially after Veld took you to task over the whole thing. Granted I suppose the having your failure inadvertently end up being part of the reason why the Director's family died also helped in that, hm? Poor man…."

"It's a lesson that I wish I hadn't needed to learn." Tseng scrubbed at his face. "The costs…were higher than I would ever have wished for. I regret…."

Gun rolled her eyes. "That's not why I brought it up, hotshot. You screwed up, it happens. Veld doesn't blame you, neither does the department. The only one even remotely angered by the entire affair was the President and that's because he's a bigoted ass as you very well know."

"Gun!"

"What? You know it's true!" Gun protested. Tseng just chuckled. "As a change of subject, any news on our interesting little red headed slum rat?"

Tseng leaned his head back and peered up at the Plate in contemplation. "He's still mostly an enigma. We got his age and that he's an orphan but that's it, really. We know he works as a thief, a fence, and as a whore. We know he's good at ferreting out information—half the high profile gangs are looking into him as a prospective investment…." Gun whistled appreciatively. "Veld is of the mind we should pick him up sooner rather than later, before someone else gets their hands in him."

"I'll say, with skills like that?" Gun murmured. "He'd make a great stealth expert, maybe even a good assassin…."

Tseng snorted, "Not likely. He appears to have a sense of…justice; a lack of killer's intent but not instinct. He only disarms, never eliminates, his targets. He roughs them up, steals from them, and then moves on. He has a great tacticians mind, though. Able to think up a plan on the fly….I can see him as a stealth and information source for the department, and he might have more skills we have yet to see…the fact that he doesn't kill though works against him."

Gun hummed appreciatively before tossing the binoculars at Tseng and rolling off the edge and back into the roof in a smooth motion. "Target's on the move," she uttered professionally. Tseng pulled himself to his feet and quickly packed away their equipment. Within a minute they were gone from the roof, no remaining sign of their presence.

On the ground Grim eyed the rooftop thoughtfully, and then glanced over at the building the Turks had been watching. He turned and disappeared into the alley without a word; a plan began to form. If recent developments were to be believed, and the Planet's own whispered mutterings, then it wouldn't be too long before Reno met the Turks face to face.

And he knew just how to push them into one another's path. His lips curled slightly. Yes, that would work perfectly.