Green eyes flickered from a piece of paper propped up against the steering wheel of a black SUV, to the numbers hanging on the side of the white house the vehicle was parked in front of. The man holding the paper was clad in a black suit, black thick-framed glasses settled on his nose and his silver-gray hair pulled into a tight ponytail. In the passenger seat was yet another man in a suit with violet eyes and a mess of black hair. Behind them sat a redhead and a man with a beard on the end of his chin. One last look at the house, and the SUV was turned off. The doors swung open and four occupants stepped out to observe the ranch home before them.

It was a dump.

A shutter was hanging off of the large picture window on the front of the house to the left of the door, and the grass needed to be mowed badly. A lawn gnome smiled happily up at the four men, only the very top of his face and little red hat visible above the lawn it was decorating. An old tire was propped up against the side of the house, and a rusty bicycle was thrown haphazardly in the middle of the overgrown grass. The redhead shuffled closer to the bearded man as they walked up the nearly-covered front walkway. The violet-eyed raven-haired man—who looked much younger than the other three—peeked cautiously into the grass, as though he was afraid something would reach out and grab him.

Which was honestly a logical fear, given that the grass was rustling a good ten feet in.

They quickened their paces, and piled onto the small front step, three out of four pairs of eyes watching the rustling move closer as the silver-haired man lifted his hand and rang the doorbell. A sudden curse was the cause of coordinated eyebrow raises, followed by a crash, a yelp, and another swear that made the second eyebrows rise. Finally, the door was yanked open, and a disheveled-looking blonde with wide blue eyes stood before them wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and looking utterly confused. A cat attempted to sneak past his legs, and he snatched it up before it made it into the outside world, holding it tightly as it squirmed and hissed.

"U-Um, yes? Can I help you?" he stuttered, looking the suit-clad men up and down.

The redhead adjusted his shades.

"Mr. Cloud Strife?" the silver-haired man asked, eying the cat with distaste.

"Yes?" the blonde replied, blinking up at the man; he had a good seven or eight inches on poor Cloud.

"My name is Sephiroth. This is Zack." He gestured to the raven-haired teen, then jabbed his thumb towards the two men standing behind him. "That's Angeal, and that's Genesis." Angeal and Genesis nodded. Zack crept closer to Sephiroth, still watching the grass. "We're with the Shinra Electric Company, here to explain future changes in our services. May we come in?"

Cloud stared at them, face twisted into a look of cute confusion. He shrugged, took a step back and put the cat down, shoving it with his foot when it tried to make a second escape attempt. With a hiss, a growl, and a grumpy meow, the tabby turned and walked down the long hallway, disappearing around the half-open door at the end. Sephiroth was all but shoved into the small home—which was much more neat inside than it was outside—by his companions, and the door was slammed shut behind them. They stood in a small entryway, facing the hallway the cat had retreated down; there were three doors on one side, and an open door on the other. The sound of a television commercial advertising dog food was drifting out of it.

The blonde took a small step into the hallway and gestured to the single open door. "Come in and sit down."

They followed him down the small hall, only pausing when Zack bumped into a rather inexpensive-looking vase. Angeal slapped him upside the head. Sephiroth eyed the closed doors suspiciously, and Genesis slid his shades off, folding them and putting them in his pocket. Family photos decorated the walls; a younger version of Cloud, a very much female person that looked like Cloud, a few pictures of elderly men and women, and finally a picture of a really creepy, hunched over, greasy-looking man. Zack got chills just looking at him.

They entered the small living room and Cloud threw himself into an armchair, bouncing his knee up and down nervously. The four men filed into the room after him, going around the coffee table and sitting on the out-of-place bright red couch. The television had returned to whatever program Cloud had been watching—it looked to be the food network—and a white cat was lounging across the top of the set. Another cat—this time black—was perched on the back of the couch, and Zack patted it on the head.

It purred loudly and swatted at his face.

Sephiroth was vaguely reminded of being inside an old cat lady's home.

Cloud cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "So, um… You mentioned changes in service?"

"Well, Mr. Strife," Sephiroth started, adjusting his glasses. "Here at Shinra Electrics, we strive to serve each and every customer to the best of our ability. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"U-Uh, no. That's fine." the blonde replied, biting his lower lip.

Genesis pulled a clipboard out of the laptop bag at his feet, clicked his pen, and looked at Cloud expectantly.

"Now, Mr. Strife," Sephiroth continued with a small frown. "Do you live here alone?"

"No." Cloud answered. He gestured to the cats. "I live with the cats and my uncle Hojo. It's his house."

"I see. Might I use your restroom?" the silver-haired man suddenly asked.

Cloud stared for a moment. "S-Sure. It's the first door on the right."

Sephiroth nodded politely and climbed to his feet. He skirted the coffee table and stepped into the hallway, edging towards the bathroom—but not to. Little did Cloud Strife know, but Genesis, Angeal, Zack, and Sephiroth didn't work for Shinra Electrics' customer service. In fact, the four of them were detectives—the best of their kind; they had never failed to find the criminal they were after—hired to investigate a string of killings in the past six months, involving employees of the company. Bodies were continuously turning up mutilated and experimented on; limbs missing, limbs added, unknown liquids injected into the bodies—and one man had turned up with a small feathered wing fused directly to his shoulder blade. Weeks of research had brought them to one Cloud Strife's home on the edge of Midgar.

He was their top suspect—and their only one.

Every single person they had questioned on the street had said they last saw the deceased employees entering the dumpy white house on the corner—Cloud's house. Now they only needed evidence, and that was where Sephiroth came in. Sneaking around somebody's house while Angeal, Genesis, and Zack distracted them? Piece of cake. He stepped across the hall, quietly opened the middle door, and slipped inside.

"Mr. Strife, how long have you had our service?" Genesis asked with forced politeness, a fake smile on his face.

"I… don't know?" Cloud answered. He rubbed a hand through his spiky blonde locks and frowned. "I moved in last year, and he had your company then."

"He?" Zack piped up, kneeling on the couch and scratching the cat perched on the back of it under the chin.

"My uncle."

"I see…" Genesis wrote something down on the clipboard, then redirected his gaze to the blonde. "And where is your uncle?"

"He's—"

Sephiroth eased the door shut and felt around for a light switch. He slammed his hand into something and cursed silently, pulling it back and shaking the pain away. Reaching out again, he found the switch, flicked it up, and waited patiently as the lights slowly turned on. Sephiroth's silver eyebrows arched high in surprise and he took a step forward, looking around skeptically. He was standing in a small bedroom; blue walls, beige carpeting, and the bed in the middle was covered in maroon blankets. A picture of Cloud was resting on the dresser next to the door, and Sephiroth squinted at it.

Cloud was adorable.

If he wasn't potentially a vicious serial killer, he would consider asking his four lovers if they'd like to ask him out.

But Cloud was probably a murderer, and something told Sephiroth it wasn't a good idea to get involved with a suspected serial killer.

He pulled open the top drawer of the dresser, then quickly shut it again—boxers were not what he was looking for. He ventured through the next three drawers, and only found socks, shirts, and pants. Sighing, he turned and stepped carefully over a large calico cat lying in the middle of the floor, and headed for the closet. He slid it open, knelt down, and started digging through the boxes piled messily on the floor.

Back in the living room, Cloud shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of Angeal and Genesis—Zack was too busy playing with Coco, the white cat he'd rescued from the animal shelter last Friday. Every so often, those violet orbs would turn to him, offer a small smile, and then return to the fluffy white cat sprawled across the back of the couch. He wasn't a fan of being stared at, especially not when the people staring were so ho—

Sephiroth cocked a delicate silver eyebrow as he opened a box… and found a stash of dirty magazines. And not the kind of dirty he would expect of a blonde teenager. In his hands, he held a dirty magazine for men. Gay men. The exact same one Genesis always insisted on picking up. With all of the extremely naked men posing around cars. He placed the magazine back in the box it came from, closed the closet door, and turned around.

Their suspect was gay.

He did a quick check under the bed, but only found yet another cat. He climbed to his feet and sneaked back out of the bedroom. The door shut with a quiet click, and he made his way quickly past the living room, heading for the door at the end of the hallway. It creaked open and he winced, pausing to listen, but only heard the sound of Zack making a joke. Shaking his head—Zack was always far too friendly—he pulled the door shut behind him, and felt for the light switch. He flicked it, waited for the lights to turn on, and examined the room. It was large, and the floors were concrete.

And then it hit him like a freight train.

Sephiroth was standing in the middle of some sort of laboratory.

Tables lined the brick walls with beakers and vials of odd fluids, books were opened wide here and there to display diagrams of the human body and bird wings. A large bookcase stood against one wall, neatly organized and untouched. And in the middle of the large room… Green eyes narrowed and took the space in stride, stopping just before what looked suspiciously like a bloody operating table. He cast a glance at the door, then leaned closer to examine the stains scattered across the metal surface. Definitely blood. Stepping around the table, he walked up to the bookcase and examined the titles. Anything from Diagrams of Human Anatomy, to Results of Injection were jammed onto the tidy shelves.

Very suspicious.

A book on the end of the middle shelf caught his eye and he slid it off the case, flipped it open, and scanned a page. And then his eyes widened because it wasn't a book—it was a journal keeping track of experimentation on human specimens. And it dated back to thirty years prior. He set the book down on the nearest table, pulled his phone out, and—attempting to ignore the rather gruesome photograph sitting right there on a nearby table of a man's stomach cut open to display his intestines—sent Angeal a text message.

It was time to bring their suspect in.

Angeal phone vibrated in his pocket, surprising him and drawing his attention from watching Zack play with one of the many cats sneaking around Cloud Strife's house. He slid it out of his pocket, flipped it open, and blinked down at a new text message from Sephiroth. Drowning out the senseless questions Genesis was asking the teen ("About how often do you leave your bathroom lights on, Mr. Strife?"), he read the text. Then reread it. Then harshly elbowed the redhead, showed it to him, and stood from the fire engine red couch abruptly.

Cloud blinked those wide blue eyes up at him, and he almost couldn't do it. Almost. He seemed like a sweet kid—and he was a little on the cute side.

But he was also apparently a violent, insane serial killer that experimented on human beings. And something told him it wasn't a good idea to get involved.

"Cloud Strife," he started, taking a step towards the blonde and pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. "You are under arrest."

"I—" Cloud blinked in surprise. And Blinked again. Then let out a loud squawk as he was hauled to his feet by Angeal. "I-I—W-What?" he shrieked, eyes wide and looking from Genesis to Zack, then back to Angeal.

Zack climbed off of the couch, patting the small cat on the head. He crossed his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It didn't really work for him. "You've been caught, kiddo."

"Caught doing what?" the blonde roared in a panic.

Sephiroth stepped back into the room holding the journal in one hand, and his badge in the other. "Cloud Strife, you are under arrest for the murder of sixteen Shinra Electric Company employees in the past six months. And this—" He held up the journal, eyes narrowed. "Speaks of even more in the past thirty years."

"What?" Cloud shrieked, struggling in Angeal's grasp. He gawked at the book, then at Sephiroth, and finally at Genesis and Zack. "What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you?"

"Detectives hired by Shinra to track down their killer." Genesis replied in a bored tone, climbing to his feet and stretching.

The blonde took a deep, calming breath, then stared straight at Sephiroth and asked, "How the hell could I commit murders from the past thirty years when I'm eighteen now?"

All eyes turned to Sephiroth, who blinked, looked at the journal he held, and then back at Cloud. The blonde... sadly had a point. "Do you have an ID?" he inquired, crossing his arms.

What? Cloud could be a master liar, too.

Cloud twisted around to look at Angeal with a frown. "It's in my left pocket." he whispered, jutting his hip out slightly.

The man reached in, feeling rather awkward, and did indeed withdraw an identification card. He passed it to Sephiroth, who adjusted his glasses and read it over. He glanced up at Cloud, then back to the ID and sighed. "He's right. He's only eighteen."

"See? I told y—"

"What the hell is going on here?" A nasally voice cut through the living room, making everyone cringe and turn to see what was making that irritating sound.

Standing in the living room doorway, looking menacing and all around disturbing was the hunched over, greasy man from the photo in the hallway. A little pair of glasses was perched on his nose, and he was… short. Sephiroth craned his neck just to look down at the man. He looked every bit as creepy in real life as he did in his picture.

Cloud swallowed hard under the intense glare he was being given. "H-Hi, Uncle Hojo."

"Who are these men?" Hojo hissed, hands on hips and turning his glare full-force on Zack—who moved behind Genesis.

"Detectives hired by Shinra Electric Company." Genesis deadpanned. "We thought your nephew here was our killer, but clearly he's not." He paused and looked around. "Haven't I already said who we are?"

And just like that, they knew they'd found their killer.

Hojo paled considerably and stumbled back a step, eyes wide. He pointed a shaking finger at Cloud and cried in a cracked voice, "You let police into this house?"

"Why does it mat—"

"You've ruined my work, you ignorant brat!" Hojo shrieked, stomping his foot. "All of my work, ruined!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cloud yelled back, struggling against the handcuffs.

Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow, pulled his own pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, grabbed the rather insane man by the arm, and proceeded to cuff him. "Hojo, was it?" he asked, tightening the cuffs. "You are under arrest for the murder of sixteen Shinra Electric Company employees in the past six months. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law."

Angeal uncuffed the blonde, and Cloud yanked his hands around to his chest, rubbing them with a frown. He glared at his uncle, then turned to the silver-haired man holding the creeper by the arm. "I knew it."

Hojo opened his mouth to say something, and Sephiroth not-so-subtly whacked him upside the head. He crumpled to the floor in a pile of greasy old man. Sephiroth regarded Cloud with a small smile. "Why didn't you call the police, then?"

"I tried." Cloud explained, sinking onto the couch and looking not at all worried about his now-unconscious-and-apparently-a-serial-killer uncle. "But every time I called and told them my uncle was locked away in that room of his with another man, they laughed! Hell, in the past week alone, I've tried the police sixteen times."

"Wow." Zack finally murmured, patting Cloud gently on the back. "Midgar's law enforcement sucks."

"Yes. Yes it does." Angeal claimed, sitting next to the blonde and pulling him into a hug.

They turned expectant eyes to Genesis, who snapped his phone shut and blinked back at them. Sephiroth cleared his throat, and he shrugged. "I got nothing. Car's coming to pick that—" He looked down at Hojo with a blank expression. "—thing up.

"Now I can finally move out of this dump." Cloud sighed in relief, pushing away from the burly bearded man who had hugged him.

Sirens grew louder and louder, and Cloud relaxed on the couch. Zack returned to petting one of the many cats that were now crawling into the living room, and Genesis gave another a look of complete disgust. He wasn't exactly a fan of cats. Or dogs. Or most animals, really. When there was finally a knock on the door, Sephiroth strolled down the hall, pulled the front door open, and directed two policemen to the living room.

They unceremoniously picked Hojo's unconscious form up off of the floor, and dragged it out of the house. Cloud, Zack, Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth followed at a much more leisurely pace, crowding in the doorway to watch the creepy man be shoved into the back of a police car. One of the men gave a half-salute to the detectives, then they both climbed in and drove off, leaving the group standing there. For a moment, they merely watched the rustling section of grass with partial interest, then Cloud stepped forward and turned around.

"So… You guys want to get pizza or something?" he asked, cocking a blonde eyebrow. "Kind of hungry now."

"Only if it's a date." Genesis lazily suggested, leaning on Zack's shoulder.

"Well, what else would it be?" Cloud remarked, tilting his head slightly. "So… pizza?"

And so pizza it was.

With a shrug of their shoulders, they headed for the SUV parked in front of the dumpy white house, pushing and shoving when the grass rustled way too close for comfort. They climbed into the car, buckled up, and Sephiroth started the vehicle. Angeal, Cloud, and Zack joked in the backseat and jabbed each other teasingly. Halfway down the street, Cloud frowned and looked at each occupant of the car.

"You know," he said, rubbing the side of his arm. "I can't believe you guys thought I was a serial killer. I don't even look like one."

"Actually, you kind of do." Zack replied in a rather matter-of-fact tone.

Angeal slapped him upside the head, followed by Cloud. Even Genesis and Sephiroth stretched back to hit him.

"Ow!" he yelped, swatting at the incoming hands. "Alright! Alright! He doesn't look like one!"

Cloud sighed and shook his head; he'd had one hell of an afternoon, and now he'd have to explain to his great grandmother what happened to his uncle. He wasn't sure "he was a serial killer" would go over so well at Thanksgiving.

Oh well. At least he had a neat story to tell everyone—hell, maybe he could write a book. My Uncle the Serial Killer.

At least it had a nice ring to it.

Poor little Cloud~

This idea actually came from a conversation with underhandlilies about Cloud in different jobs. I jokingly said SerialKiller!Cloud. I guess it wasn't that much of a joke, haha.

This was fun. Hope you all enjoyed it! Review please?