Reno was sitting in Tommy's office when Tommy returned from a hasty lunch meeting. Just what he needed to make his day.

"Ah, here already?" Tommy commented.

Reno didn't bother to get up, but he did offer his hand to Tommy, one put-upon minion to another. 

Reno did not look a bit like his name. There were no Stetsons, no alligator boots, no narrow leather necktie replacements. Instead, he was dressed for casual Friday at your friendly neighborhood investment banking corporation.  Nor did he have a weather-beaten look around his eyes. He had a friendly smile, and his eyes were wide pools of calm innocence - of an aquamarine variety.  His hair, sort of a sandy almost blond, was cut a bit long to be fashionable and Tommy suddenly found himself imagining reaching for a jar of mousse, maybe bright purple, and spiking Reno's hair while the fellow slept all unaware in his bed.

"Ahem," Tommy said, as they shook hands.

"Things seem, as usual, calmly efficient around here," Reno observed.  His eyes rested for the merest possible second on the newly installed keypad on the door.

"But you haven't...." Tommy said frowning.

Reno just grinned.

"Efficient.   Well, we try," Tommy observed dryly doing his best to emulate Stephen's reliance on laconic commentary when backed up against the wall.

"Luggage?"  Tommy asked after a moment, whilst Reno retrieved from his pocket and then fiddled with a Blackberry. His hands were beautiful. Probably manicured regularly. No chewing of fingernails for this guy.  But what the hell did the man need with a Blackberry? Though, he thought ruefully, it probably wasn't to keep track of the responses to his ad at e-Harmony.   But, he brightened up; justice would be served when he found out just how bad the coverage was out here.  Take that, interloper!

Reno jiggled the bit of machinery then sighed before he looked up.  "Thanks got plenty already. I'll have it delivered once you show me where our rooms are."

"Right," Tommy replied.

"You know everyone?" Tommy asked, wondering just why he'd asked that. Of course the man knew everyone.

Reno's lips quirked up the merest bit as he met Tommy's eyes.  "Not nearly well enough."

"Come on, I’ll show you around," Tommy said as he bounced up from his chair and made for the door.  Anything to get this guy out of his office. He felt that by just sitting there, Reno was somehow magically (or maybe not so magically) rifling through all the files in the place.

After showing Reno the offices set up for himself and Marc, complete with keypads, and at the end of the hallway, well away from Stephen's office and the more interesting things that went on here, they walked out into the main corridor and hiked up the stairs.


At a leisurely pace that Tommy was unused to Reno sauntered along, looking around at the building, smiling winningly at anyone who happened past them.

Tommy could imagine a list forming in Reno's mind.

1.  defenses? check
2.  secrets? check
3.  financial strength? check
4. clothing sense? fergeddaboutit

So it was a precious second or so before he actually heard Reno ask, "The Infirmary is on the first floor, right?"

"Second floor actually," Tommy corrected him.  That felt good.

"Damn Blackberry," Reno swore.

They'd reached the second floor.  Reno sniffed. The antiseptic smell was a dead give away.

"Thanks, by the way," Reno said.

"For what?" Tommy asked.

"For being civil for one thing. Us minions do what we're told."

"Yes," Tommy replied, unable to trust himself to say more. Had that been a warning for Tommy to pay attention? To keep away? Why would he give him such a warning?

"I'd like to go out with the next couple of operations and follow the entire procedure, start to finish with two or three individual Awakened. See how the teams work, as it were. How you deal with the trauma and the physical issues, how you then assess potential, how you assign newly arrived ones to ...  Well, you understand I'm sure."

"I'll let Stephen know about your request.  Does Marc want to do that as well?" Tommy asked, unwilling to commit to anything.

"No, I don't think so. If he changes his mind I'll let you know."

"He could," Tommy said, in a poor imitation of Stephen's dryness, "tell me himself.  I don't bite."

Again that hint of a grin on Reno's lips. "Yeah, so he could."

"When does the great man arrive?"

Reno's laughter startled Tommy. He hadn't seen enough of Reno to expect that sound out of him. It was genuine enjoyment.

"I'll have to tell him you referred to him that way. He'll get a huge laugh out of that. I've no idea when he'll physically show up. One never does with Marc. He likes to keep busy. And just where is Stephen? It would be courteous for me to say hey," Reno purred.

 Tommy gulped. Why oh why did Stephen never tell him anything. All he knew was that Stephen wasn't around.

 "Oh, out and about," Tommy settled for.   

"Yeah, they never tell us minions anything do they?" 

 "Don't you know it," Tommy agreed.

Reno looked out across the grounds, his eyes lighting on a grounds-keeping monk "No doubt, though, someone's keeping an eye on things."  Whether he meant spying by Marc on Stephen, by the Council on them all, or what, wasn't clear and Tommy was more than happy that it wasn't.

"Ah, here we are," Tommy opted for. "Third floor. We've put you in a suite with two bedrooms." 

"To torture me further, no doubt," Reno replied.

"No, actually.  We just try to save the singles for the folks who work odd hours or can't get along with others."  Tommy was surprised to find himself remarkably comfortable in Reno's presence This guy was nothing but trouble, a smooth operator of the first order and yet...

"That's an interesting ...necklace you are wearing. One solid piece of gold?"  Tommy was squinting at it. He couldn't for the life of him figure out how it had gotten on Reno.

"Maybe someday I'll show you," Reno said as they stopped at the closed door, shoulders rubbing.

 Golly, he could hardly bear to wait.

-------------

Reno was sprawled comfortably on Marc's bed, playing with a small ball of psychic energy. He was tossing it back and forth, one hand to another. The colors altered a tiny bit in hue as it landed and its inner light cast ripples onto the white ceiling.

"You could market those things. Mood balls.  Well, maybe not..." Marc was grinning.

"Hey boss. Dropping in for a quick look round? Or are you staying?"

Marc shook his head. He walked over to the wide array of windows giving a glorious view of the monastery and Blue Ridge Mountains beyond.

"So?" Marc asked.

"Went well, I thought," Reno answered. "Pretty much as you expected. Haven't seen Stephen though. Tommy seemed evasive, but he might really not know where Stephen is."

Marc nodded, but did not turn around to meet Reno's eyes.

"Do you think we dare attempt to recruit Bella?  Margaret and Maya are... They will do something remarkably stupid very soon. Killing them outright is an option I suppose, but not my preferred method."

"Bella..." Reno replied, staring thoughtfully at his little ball. "She's practical. If she believes you'll win, she'll be trustworthy, but if she thinks they will..."

"Point taken," Marc replied.

--------------

 The notes drifted down the mostly deserted corridors, it was mid mids shift after all, leaving contentment in their wake. They were more than mere noise, they were sight and sound and light and joy. It was an ancient piece. Not something you hear often unless you tended to hang out in places that hire Julliard graduates.

It drew her in, mesmerizing her, delighting her. Even though she was tired, and cranky, all that was forgotten in that sound. She followed it.

She stopped at a slightly opened doorway.  Through the crack she could see a man touching the piano as if he were touching his lover. Softly, tenderly, surely, gracefully. She stood there entranced. Not because he was handsome. He was!  Not because the music was like a drug to her.  It was!  But because she felt intruding on him was ... disrespectful.

Finally he stopped playing. He sat there, his eyes closed, his body bowed slightly over the instrument he could turn into magic.

"Did you like it?" he asked, opening his eyes to look directly at her, startling her.

She came on in to join him then. She felt ... under-dressed.  He wore a tux, even if the tie was loosened. Where in the world he'd been in a tux she didn't even want to know. She was wearing jeans and a baggy flannel shirt over a tight white tee shirt.  She was barefoot and carried a snack of nuts and fresh berries which she'd foraged in the kitchens.

"Hullo," she said with a smile.  "I'm Fawn."

He looked her up and down. "I've very sorry to hear that."

"Oh, I don't mind it. Men tend to dismiss women with silly names. It's a help sometimes."

He cocked his head and studied her for a moment. "They tend to dismiss handsome men in the same way."

"Especially handsome men who make love to a piano.  Did you play professionally?"

He frowned, looking down at his hands. "I studied. My teachers decided I had great hands for the task, but my work ethic sucked."

"Oh," she replied as she dropped into a nearby chair. "You mean you weren't willing to turn your life over into their hands."

"Precisely," he answered with a grin. "I'm Reno by the way.  You probably ought not to be talking to me. I'm highly suspect.  Why, I might be attempting to seduce you with music!"

Fawn giggled, between bites of berries and nuts.

"So what's he like, this Marc Rogatien? Poor guy hasn't set foot in the place yet, and already rumors fly about him. Can he ... Is he... Is he here to destroy Stephen?"

Reno raised an eyebrow and reached for a drink that had been sitting beside the piano.  He was not one to disturb the beauty and simplicity of a perfectly designed instrument.

"If he ever trusts me with his plans I'll let you know," Reno replied with a sigh.

Fawn frowned. "Well, ain't you just the tight-lipped one."

"Ah, but handsome boys who manipulate powerful men, understand cute little girls who do the same."

Her laughter rang out. "Touché. I like you Reno."

"Ah. More than I can say about myself."   He stood and bowed to her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I do need to get some sleep if I can manage it."

"Alone... or?" Fawn offered.

"Alone. Definitely alone."

Fawn sat there munching on her snack as she watched Reno walk out the door. He had a great ass.

--------------

Tommy, as usual in to the office early, took a moment to walk down the hallway.  The door to Marc and Reno's offices was open and it was obvious that a good deal of work had been done.  When though, was the question. How early had Reno shown up?

Reno, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt was sitting cross-legged on the top of a desk. Rather an incongruous method of doing office work. He had a notepad resting on a knee and was scanning a stack of papers that sat on the desk next to him.

"Good morning," Tommy said. "Just thought I'd check to see if you or Marc needed anything?"

Reno looked around, removed the felt-tip pen from his mouth and replied, "Uhm, no don't think so, thanks."

"Finding everything all right?"

"Yup," Reno said returning his attention to whatever it was he was reading.

Tommy, taking the hint, left him to it.

Once Tommy was safely gone, Reno looked up and cast a thoughtful eye where Tommy had once stood.

Luckily the 'office' reserved for Marc was shut and locked. What furniture it had contained was now gone. It now held instead a huge black superhard sarcophagus with thousands of leads and cables snaking across the floor to a computer array. Attached to that was a pulsing wall of lights.  Luckily no one in this time would recognize any of it.   Nor would anyone see it, as the destruct sequence was armed and would kill anyone, including Reno, who attempted to enter that room without Marc's permission.

Reno shuddered. The bloody thing... Why'd he have to bring it here? It gave him the creeps, especially knowing that Marc..  Well, if he wanted to roam the stars, good on him. Reno would be quite contented to stay solidly earth-bound - at least in between teleporting hops.

Reno laughed in the silence.  He couldn't wait until someone came to complain about the sudden massive increases in power demands. He grinned.