Title : Job Interview

Author : Dùlin

Characters : Tseng, Reno

Rating : M

Warnings : Pre-game, some crudeness, mentioned violence.

Disclaimer : Squeenix owns. I am not Squeenix. You do the math.

A/N : written because apparently, sitting on my hands does not make the bunny disappear. Woe. Also, L-sama helped me find the title. loffs on her

O.O.O.O

The commander of the Sector 6 northern quadrant Shinra Squad was massaging his temples while trying to come up with a report that wouldn't read too much like 'there was this one guy who sort of beat up an entire patrol on his own and we had to call reinforcements to hold him down'. He was not having much luck with it.

It had been a bad way to start the day, and Sector 6 being a law unto itself, things did not just tend to go from bad to worse : they simply did, whether you actually expected them to or not.

"Commander Fulham, sir ! We just got a call from above. They heard about the situation, they're sending someone down here."

The commander sighed and looked dejectedly at his keyboard and at the desperately blank form he was supposed to fill.

"Who ?"

The orderly shifted uneasily.

"Someone from the Investigative Division, sir."

"What ?! Who's the abysmal cretin who ratted on us to them ?"

"And who is the abysmal cretin who thinks that such a situation needs to be ratted on to us for us to know ?" a new voice said, instantly petrifying both the orderly and the commander.

The Turks were rarely seen under the plate. It wasn't that they never had business down there, but whatever they did for the Shinra top brass usually required efficiency and secrecy. That someone from the tower had called to advertise their presence and that they would send Tseng himself, of all people ... The commander paled and saluted belatedly.

"Sir ... I wasn't warned that you were coming."

The expression on Tseng's face could be called a smile if you were a very optimistic person who saw a good side to everything. The man standing a few feet behind him remained impassive.

"I do believe that this is what this gentleman was doing, actually," Tseng said, nodding toward the orderly. "Dismissed," he added for the man, who saluted hurriedly and did his best to walk around the Turk still standing in the doorway.

Tseng took off his coat, but didn't sit down.

"I didn't receive your report on the incident."

"It's ... It's not complete yet, sir." Tseng arched an eyebrow, and the commander tried to pull himself together. "It's complicated ..."

"Did you get an update on the status of your men ?"

"Yes, sir. The Medical Department said that they would have to be removed from active duty for some time. Sander's case is the most problematic, of course ..."

"I heard that his injuries were quite serious," Tseng said. He held out his hand and the other Turk produced a file out of seemingly nowhere. Tseng took it and started flipping through the pages. "Concussion, broken left arm, cracked ribs, both ankles sprained, multiple contusions, facial trauma, and possible damage to the spine ... I guess his promotion will have to wait until we know whether he will recover or not. Where is the suspect ?"

The commander's already sickly complexion had gone from white to green while Tseng talked.

"We put him in Interview Room Two, sir."

"Why is he not in containment ?"

There was no good way to say 'we put him there, but he was halfway to the door before we even realized he wasn't in the cell anymore', so the commander swallowed the lump in his throat and didn't answer the question.

"If you'll please follow me ..."

O.O.O.O

There was an armed guard outside the door and another one inside, but the man sprawled in the chair with a leg propped on the table didn't seem to care much, Tseng noticed as he watched him through the two-way mirror.

His clothes were crumpled and his jeans had a gaping hole on one knee, but they were good quality. His boots were worn, but made of solid leather, and apart from a few smudges and bruises here and there, he was clean. Tseng didn't recognize the two red tattoos on his cheekbones as the mark of any known gang, either. A freelancer, then.

"Is he on file ?" Tseng asked.

Commander Fulham shook his head.

"No, but we know him alright. Goes by the name Reno. He's been suspected of being behind a few big things down here, but you know how it is ... no proof, people don't talk. But he's got to get the money somewhere, and as far as I know he's never done a day of honest work in his whole life. Never could pin anything on him, though. He's good enough for that."

"Interesting," Tseng mused.

The man glanced at the 'No Smoking' sign on the wall, then very slowly and deliberately took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and lit up. He blew his smoke right in the face of the irate guard who tried to tell him to stop, then flicked the still-lit cigarette at the glass.

"How long you gonna watch me from behind that, yo ? I ain't got all day, man !" he called with a grin.

"Tell your men to get out," Tseng ordered.

O.O.O.O

Reno stubbed his cigarette out on the table when Tseng came in. He stared as Tseng sat down and opened the file he had been carrying.

"Nice suit," he ended up saying when Tseng showed no indication that he was going to talk any time soon. "You gonna tell me I can get out or do I need to call my lawyer ?"

"You're not charged with anything as of yet, Mr ... ?"

"Just Reno's fine, and thank Odin !"

"Why that ?"

"I don't have a lawyer," Reno said with a shrug, shaking another cigarette out of the pack and lighting it. The lighter looked like it was made of actual silver. Tseng noted the fact and went back to the file.

"You've got quite the interesting career, Reno."

"I sure do, but you won't get to know 'bout it reading that pile of shit," Reno laughed. "Can't even get their damn facts straight ... Everyone down the road can tell you I was provoked !"

Tseng shot a look above his shoulder at the mirror and frowned.

"You mean to say that they started it ?" he asked.

"You betcha they started it ! Not exactly my fault if they couldn't finish it, yo. Although I'll admit, I took advantage of my numerical superiority. Fuckheads were only seven, I think."

"Did you have a weapon ?"

Reno looked genuinely surprised at the question.

"For what ? You can't beat up uniformed people without one now ? First time I hear that, man."

"When you say that you were provoked ..." Tseng said, bringing the conversation back on tracks without missing a beat.

Reno took a drag of his cigarette and sneered.

"Well, see, here I was, minding my own business, and one of those dicks thought it'd be funny to try and grab my ass. So, what d'you say, I thought it'd be funny to try and wipe the floor with his ass. Guess I ended up being the only one having fun, yo."

"I was not informed of this situation," Tseng said, jotting down a few notes in the file.

"Well, I always say, don't touch the goods if you can't deliver. And I might be a slut, but I'm not a whore."

Tseng blinked at Reno, perplex.

"I'm not sure I understand the difference."

Reno glared.

"It means I don't sleep around for the gil. I do it 'cause it's fun. So I might have a reputation, and it might even be deserved, but you know what ? Not everyone who wants me gets a piece of me, hotshot."

The hint was very clear, and the threat even more. Tseng closed the file and put it away, crossing his hands on the table. It was a good thing that the Turks' underground network was so developed, or they might have missed Reno entirely. From the looks of it, they had missed him for a long while, and that alone was enough to give Tseng pause.

"Do you know who I am ?" he asked.

"I got an idea, yeah. Never thought I'd get to see one myself, but what d'you know ..."

"Are you looking for a job ?"

Reno's grin vanished instantly, replaced by a defiant expression. He pushed his chair away from the table and got up.

"Are you serious ?"

Tseng nodded. Reno threw his cigarette on the floor and took a step closer.

"Do I get to blow things up ?"

Tseng looked surprised, then nodded again, a bit more hesitantly.

"Within reason," he added.

Reno burst out laughing.

"Dude, you don't blow shit up 'within reason'. You either do, or you don't. So ... Do I get to blow things up ?"

Tseng stared at Reno. Reno looked back expectantly.

"Yes," Tseng eventually said.

Reno grinned.

"Cool."