After a long break from the fan fiction world because I had no real motivation to write anything for it, I finally found the inspiration and am back. I present to you my attempt to break back into the fan fiction world with a hypothetical "what-if" type of story. Standard disclaimer: I don't own anything aside from the laptop used to type this up on and maybe the coffee cup on my desk. Wishful thinking, but still, I don't own anything.

For those who might not be certain what I write, another disclaimer, this is a "what-if" story that portrays events that might have happened to Cissnei after the events of Crisis Core. (I'm also aware of the events of Before Crisis and that they explain what did happen. I'm playing "what if" for the fun of it.) That all said, feel free to leave a review or send a PM to let me know what you think of it if you want. Constructive criticism is always welcome and I don't bite, promise! Thanks and enjoy the story, folks!

Chapter One - It Began With A Phone Call

"Tseng, I've lost the targets."

My problems began when I let them go.

Flipping my PHS closed with the all too familiar click as if this is little more than a standard mission, I return it to its leather holster on my belt, a light tremble in my hands because this is anything but a routine report tonight. I've never outright lied to the one man who has the power to decide whether I get to live or die. And with that one phrase, I did just that. Committed an act of what can easily be viewed as not only disobedience, but treason against the very group I represent by wearing this dark midnight blue suit and tie.

I did it for them. Lied to my superior office in hopes that maybe, just maybe, the two convicted felons in front of me might have a slim chance at survival out here.

I can only stare in pity at the raven-haired SOLDIER standing like a protective Doberman between myself and the blond-haired infantryman propped against the base of an uneven pine tree's trunk behind him. The Buster Sword is drawn, the rippled steel blade offering a menacing glint under the pale evening light of the western full moon.

Former friends or not at one time, there is no doubt in my mind that he would not hesitate to bury that weapon into my flesh. This is not the same restless 'puppy' I am dealing with right now, but a full-blooded warhound attempting to flee from a pack that's out to murder him tonight. And I'm one of the watchdogs sent to retrieve him, his enemy.

I can see it in those ocean blue mako eyes though. He's scared, and rightfully so. With his friend to protect, he's not only fighting for himself this time. My amber eyes drift to the unfortunate man slouched against the tree trunk. Mako poisoning. A severe case too and one he probably won't survive for much longer. Hojo is a cruel and terrible man indeed.

"And that's how it is." My words are soft, feigning confidence in a vain effort to convince these two that everything is going to turn out all right. I can't say for certain that I'll be able to hold Scarlet's warhounds and my fellow watchdogs at bay for long, but it will grant them some time at least. How they use it though, is strictly up to them.

Zack stares at me with those far too honest mako eyes for several quiet seconds, as though struggling to comprehend what sin I have just committed. He knows as well as I do, that if anyone finds out, I'll be the one who dies tonight over it. Shinra does not take well to renegade Turks.

A cool, late summer breeze drifts in from the ocean beyond the hills, casting a gentle mist over the far shore where the lighthouse was erected years ago. The salt has scoured away most of the paint, but it still serves its purpose. The rustling boughs of arrow-like pines sway in greeting to the light spilling across the darkened clearing every few seconds. Somewhere in the brush a cricket chirps a gentle song. If only the circumstances were better tonight, this would be a rather peaceful place of solitude. But these are hardly pleasant circumstances and enough time has been wasted as it is. I turn to leave the pair in peace.

"Thank you, Cissnei," his words harbor a deep sense of gratitude, as if still not believing I'm just going to walk away and leave them without there being some catch.

Zack, don't make this any more painful than it already is. Just hurry up and go already. Please. I bite back the urge to scream at him to just run away already, but he doesn't. He just stands there like a confused puppy. I should know better than to expect anything less at this point. This place is crawling with warhounds though and the sooner they leave, the better their odds.

A faint, forced smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I reach for the tiny silver keys in the front left pocket of my blazer. I made up my mind a long time ago when Verdot and Tseng first assigned me to keep an eye on Zack that I would do whatever it took to ensure his safety, and tonight, years later, I intend on keeping that promise. Battalions of Shinra MPs and other SOLDIERs are combing the countryside for these two with orders to kill on sight. And with Cloud unable to even so much as assist Zack in walking, let alone fighting, it will only be a matter of time before the inevitable happens.

After all, Tseng's orders had been to locate them; not necessarily kill them. I'm only doing my 'job' per say.

"Here, Zack. I have something for you. If you feel you can trust me, then use it and get the hell out of here," I whisper, hoping against all hope that only the crickets and that lighthouse are witnessing this exchange as I press the silver keys into Zack's palm and curl his fingers around them. "Down by the old shore path, you can take the backroads to skirt the barricades on the highway in this area. The plate's untraceable and I won't follow you. Just go."

Hopefully, he will use some common sense and will take Cloud as far from this place as humanly possible. Somewhere where Shinra soldiers and the Turks would never think to find them if such a place even exists. Then again, this is Zack, the restless puppy, as Angeal once claimed him to be. Puppies never do what you want them to. But that won't stop a more experienced watchdog from trying to help them learn the value of listening to good advice when it is offered.

His eyes widen for a few seconds before he nods with that impish smile of his and turns back towards the sickly looking infantryman leaning against the tree. I take the opportunity and start back up the hill. Tseng's going to have my head when he finds out what I've done. To hell with it though. They needed the help.

Standing there in the Nibelheim countryside, beneath the light of the full moon and the endless blanket of stars, I watch the pair speed off towards the Nibelheim - Cosmo Canyon Highway some time later and can only sigh in frustration. If he is going where I think he will go, we will no doubt meet again. And next time, I might not be able to let him go. The leash is tight enough as it is.

"Please stay safe, Zack," I take a seat on the ridge overlooking the less-than-sandy beach far below, the waves slopping over the sand where our first conflict occurred. "Stay out of danger, for her. Aerith misses you and you damn well owe her a visit after these long four years. Go to her while you still can."

I reach for my PHS, dreading the impending conversation. Tseng's already in a lousy mood as it is tonight and I'm probably in for a fur-flying shit storm of questions about the whereabouts of my bike and just how I, as a high-ranking senior member of the Turks, managed to lose two simple targets in the gunhead-laden countryside under full moonlight. And I probably won't be able to tell a good story to save my life.

I guess I'll have plenty of time to think about this while waiting for Reno and Rude to pick me up.