Pressed and Dried
Title: Pressed and Dried
For: euphonious_glow
Medium: Fanfic
Request(s): Tseng and Aerith (one-sided or gen), G to PG
Fandom(s): FFVII original game,
Characters/Pairings: Tseng, Aeris, Reno, Rude
Rating/Warnings: PG - drug usage
Feedback: Accepted with thanks.
Spoilers: Sector 7: The Pillar - Direct quote from the game used at the end.
Word Count: 1221
Summary: The plate comes down, and a man's self with it.
Notes: I hope this was what you were looking for. Writing this made me realize how um, OOC the original script seems! Ha ha! Oops.
Pressed and Dried
The dried calla lily still lay pressed between the pages of a collection of essays on Wutai. The edges of the petals were browned and abused after so many years of saving places in his books. She'd tucked the blossom into his hand when she was small, only eleven, and up to his hip in height. The book and the flower rested on his shelf, untouched until earlier that day when he'd pulled it down with shaking hands.
Some things, especially in his line of work, stuck with a person no matter how long it had been, and the wax-paper memory of a little girl in a big garden too many years ago still played on the inside of his eyelids when he closed his eyes at night.
His most recent orders had been slid onto his desk and he'd signed off on the assignment without batting an eyelash. His mobile purred and he picked it up.
“Everything in place?” he asked, absently brushing some dust off of his suit jacket.
“You got it boss, it's all ready, yo,” Reno's voice echoed, tinny and shrill back to him. Tseng hit the volume button, to save his eardrums. “Just waitin' on them to show the fuck up and then it'll be time for some fireworks. You gonna be there to watch the show?”
Tseng eyed the flashing button on his desk phone. The helicopter was waiting, and Rude with it.
“I will be there shortly,” he said, “try not to cause any extraneous difficulties, hmm?”
He inhaled softly, and opened the right-hand drawer on his desk as he cut off Reno's curses with a hit of the end button. A small case rested at the bottom of the drawer, and he pulled it out with trembling fingers, opening it. The needle's glass tube glistened in the low light of his office. He filled the body with the opalescent liquid, tapped it once, eyeing the level of it and checking it for air bubbles. Tseng rolled up his sleeve, and slipped the needle under his skin, feeling it pierce the vein with a prick of pain. His eyes fluttered shut as he depressed the plunger. Certain things even he was not brave enough to face alone.
Somehow the needle made it's way back into the case and into his desk without incident. He swabbed the crook of his elbow, rolled his sleeve down, and maked his way in a haze up to the helicopter platform. Rude passed him a headset and he settled in, buckled himself up and adjusted his radio settings.
“Reno, Reno, come in, what's your twenty,” he said over the beat of the craft as they took for the sky and then floated down dreamily under the plate.
“Lambs are all lined up for the knife, yo,” Reno shot back, “you bringing her down so I can load ya up? I don't want, heh heh, any extraneous difficulties as you'd put it.”
Tseng looked over at Rude, and the tall man nodded once, sharp and crisp, as the helicopter floated downwards, to the platform where Reno held onto the target.
“I see you secured her. No problems there, then?” Tseng asked. Reno waved and the bundle of pink dress and brown hair at his feet struggled. He felt a surge of power run through him and he unbuckled himself and stood, one hand wrapping around a handle as he lowered the lift basket. The winch shrieked nosily, but it was muffled under the sound of the engine beating the air. Reno shoved the girl in, and she tumbled forwards, eyes up and towards him, blank with something that might have been terror, or rebellion. The drug twisted his gut an he felt sick, pitching forwards and hanging half out of the helicopter for one frightening moment-
“Sir!”
“Boss!”
A hand reached out and wrapped around his belt, yanking him back in as Rude grappled him back to his seat, the winch grinding loudly as it lifted the burden back into the air. Tseng swallowed hard as Aeris came into view. Rude met his gaze and then nodded, letting him go and trusting Tseng not to lose his balance again.
The leader of the Turks wrapped his hands in her bonds and pulled her out of the lift basket and into the hold to his side. For one moment he was surrounded by the scent of flowers, until she looked up at him, eyes narrowed and spiteful. His body winced away, but his face was neutral, his hands branding her wrists in a strong grip.
“I trust you are sensible enough not to fight us then,” he called as Rude pulled them away from the platform. He could hear the crackle of Reno arguing with someone... their lambs, he supposed, over the radio. Aeris shook her head and then looked away, squirming her wrists to try and get him to let her go. He was much too strong for her, but he loosened his grip to test her. She was on him in an instant, nails scratching across his face.
He grunted in annoyance and twisted his body out of the way, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing her down, and she fell, head out the open door, staring down at the slums below. Above, Reno was fighting. The red-head's curses were almost audible, certainly his mouth was opening and shutting, and what he was saying obviously wasn't polite, as he taunted and then swore at the group of terrorists come to make his day more difficult.
“All this could have been avoided,” he murmured into Aeris's ear, and she was so near that he swore he could hear the echo of her heartbeat in the shell of his own ear. Her elbow jerked up and caught him in the stomach and he groaned.
Above, Reno made a suicide dive off the platform, and a gasp wrenched from Aeris as they watched the slender man plummet down the other side of the pillar. Tseng pulled Aeris up to her knees and shoved her forwards as Rude took them up, trying to ignore the sight of the younger Turk falling to what might have just been his death.
“It was coming anyway, no matter what I did,” Aeris said, speaking up for the first time, and she looked at him steadily, before reaching up a hand. He slapped it away. “You've changed-”
“I have not,” he said and then looked away. The platform shuddered in his vision, but it wasn't the explosions... yet. He gripped tightly to the door of the helicopter and stepped out on the bar, one slip away from following Reno. He looked down at the group and felt the drug twist a smile across his face as he summoned his courage, his bravery to face the worst side of himself, and forget the way her bright eyes traveled across him, judging and absolute.
“That's right, you'll have a hard time disarming that one. It'll blow the second some stupid jerk touches it.”
Whether he spoke of the bomb or himself, that thought was tucked away into the painful place the drugs and his own training could not corrupt, on a shelf, sandwiched between the pages of his self, like a carefully pressed blossom.
For: euphonious_glow
Medium: Fanfic
Request(s): Tseng and Aerith (one-sided or gen), G to PG
Fandom(s): FFVII original game,
Characters/Pairings: Tseng, Aeris, Reno, Rude
Rating/Warnings: PG - drug usage
Feedback: Accepted with thanks.
Spoilers: Sector 7: The Pillar - Direct quote from the game used at the end.
Word Count: 1221
Summary: The plate comes down, and a man's self with it.
Notes: I hope this was what you were looking for. Writing this made me realize how um, OOC the original script seems! Ha ha! Oops.
Pressed and Dried
The dried calla lily still lay pressed between the pages of a collection of essays on Wutai. The edges of the petals were browned and abused after so many years of saving places in his books. She'd tucked the blossom into his hand when she was small, only eleven, and up to his hip in height. The book and the flower rested on his shelf, untouched until earlier that day when he'd pulled it down with shaking hands.
Some things, especially in his line of work, stuck with a person no matter how long it had been, and the wax-paper memory of a little girl in a big garden too many years ago still played on the inside of his eyelids when he closed his eyes at night.
His most recent orders had been slid onto his desk and he'd signed off on the assignment without batting an eyelash. His mobile purred and he picked it up.
“Everything in place?” he asked, absently brushing some dust off of his suit jacket.
“You got it boss, it's all ready, yo,” Reno's voice echoed, tinny and shrill back to him. Tseng hit the volume button, to save his eardrums. “Just waitin' on them to show the fuck up and then it'll be time for some fireworks. You gonna be there to watch the show?”
Tseng eyed the flashing button on his desk phone. The helicopter was waiting, and Rude with it.
“I will be there shortly,” he said, “try not to cause any extraneous difficulties, hmm?”
He inhaled softly, and opened the right-hand drawer on his desk as he cut off Reno's curses with a hit of the end button. A small case rested at the bottom of the drawer, and he pulled it out with trembling fingers, opening it. The needle's glass tube glistened in the low light of his office. He filled the body with the opalescent liquid, tapped it once, eyeing the level of it and checking it for air bubbles. Tseng rolled up his sleeve, and slipped the needle under his skin, feeling it pierce the vein with a prick of pain. His eyes fluttered shut as he depressed the plunger. Certain things even he was not brave enough to face alone.
Somehow the needle made it's way back into the case and into his desk without incident. He swabbed the crook of his elbow, rolled his sleeve down, and maked his way in a haze up to the helicopter platform. Rude passed him a headset and he settled in, buckled himself up and adjusted his radio settings.
“Reno, Reno, come in, what's your twenty,” he said over the beat of the craft as they took for the sky and then floated down dreamily under the plate.
“Lambs are all lined up for the knife, yo,” Reno shot back, “you bringing her down so I can load ya up? I don't want, heh heh, any extraneous difficulties as you'd put it.”
Tseng looked over at Rude, and the tall man nodded once, sharp and crisp, as the helicopter floated downwards, to the platform where Reno held onto the target.
“I see you secured her. No problems there, then?” Tseng asked. Reno waved and the bundle of pink dress and brown hair at his feet struggled. He felt a surge of power run through him and he unbuckled himself and stood, one hand wrapping around a handle as he lowered the lift basket. The winch shrieked nosily, but it was muffled under the sound of the engine beating the air. Reno shoved the girl in, and she tumbled forwards, eyes up and towards him, blank with something that might have been terror, or rebellion. The drug twisted his gut an he felt sick, pitching forwards and hanging half out of the helicopter for one frightening moment-
“Sir!”
“Boss!”
A hand reached out and wrapped around his belt, yanking him back in as Rude grappled him back to his seat, the winch grinding loudly as it lifted the burden back into the air. Tseng swallowed hard as Aeris came into view. Rude met his gaze and then nodded, letting him go and trusting Tseng not to lose his balance again.
The leader of the Turks wrapped his hands in her bonds and pulled her out of the lift basket and into the hold to his side. For one moment he was surrounded by the scent of flowers, until she looked up at him, eyes narrowed and spiteful. His body winced away, but his face was neutral, his hands branding her wrists in a strong grip.
“I trust you are sensible enough not to fight us then,” he called as Rude pulled them away from the platform. He could hear the crackle of Reno arguing with someone... their lambs, he supposed, over the radio. Aeris shook her head and then looked away, squirming her wrists to try and get him to let her go. He was much too strong for her, but he loosened his grip to test her. She was on him in an instant, nails scratching across his face.
He grunted in annoyance and twisted his body out of the way, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing her down, and she fell, head out the open door, staring down at the slums below. Above, Reno was fighting. The red-head's curses were almost audible, certainly his mouth was opening and shutting, and what he was saying obviously wasn't polite, as he taunted and then swore at the group of terrorists come to make his day more difficult.
“All this could have been avoided,” he murmured into Aeris's ear, and she was so near that he swore he could hear the echo of her heartbeat in the shell of his own ear. Her elbow jerked up and caught him in the stomach and he groaned.
Above, Reno made a suicide dive off the platform, and a gasp wrenched from Aeris as they watched the slender man plummet down the other side of the pillar. Tseng pulled Aeris up to her knees and shoved her forwards as Rude took them up, trying to ignore the sight of the younger Turk falling to what might have just been his death.
“It was coming anyway, no matter what I did,” Aeris said, speaking up for the first time, and she looked at him steadily, before reaching up a hand. He slapped it away. “You've changed-”
“I have not,” he said and then looked away. The platform shuddered in his vision, but it wasn't the explosions... yet. He gripped tightly to the door of the helicopter and stepped out on the bar, one slip away from following Reno. He looked down at the group and felt the drug twist a smile across his face as he summoned his courage, his bravery to face the worst side of himself, and forget the way her bright eyes traveled across him, judging and absolute.
“That's right, you'll have a hard time disarming that one. It'll blow the second some stupid jerk touches it.”
Whether he spoke of the bomb or himself, that thought was tucked away into the painful place the drugs and his own training could not corrupt, on a shelf, sandwiched between the pages of his self, like a carefully pressed blossom.