[FF7-Post AC] After the Silence - Excerpt
[FF7-Post AC] After the Silence - Excerpt
Rating: PG-13 - Status: One-shot - Warnings: None
Characters: Turks, references to Rufus - Pairings: Tseng/Elena
Timeline: 3 years post Advent Children
Summary: A short scribble fic, part of an excerpt of a longer piece that will be a long time in coming. Turk banter.
A/N: I'm trying my damnest to finish what I started with Edge of the World, Empire and Pathfinder before I go haring off on another long piece. So I'd been making pretty good progress with Edge to the tune of maybe 6000 words, when along comes another plot bunny and bites hard. So, compromise - told it I'd write this piece for it, then it can go sit on the backburner like a good bunny with all the other bunnies (hopefully without breeding). And since I'm not uploading anything for Edge until I'm a lot further along, well. Have a short fic! :D
After the Silence
AFTER the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and place and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience
--T.S. Eliot, The Wasteland
"Oh fucking Bahamut on a stick…"
Neither Rude nor Elena even bothered to glance up when he stormed into the Turk's office. Used to their cold-hearted dismissal of all his perfectly legitimate complaints, Reno just made a beeline for the couch and dropped into it like the Sector 7 plate coming down. The springs squealed in protest.
"Rude-"
"We're out of beer," the other Turk rumbled.
"Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning." In the absence of beer, he opted to thunk his head heavily against the back of the couch, before sliding his eyes over to the other member of the team. "Hey… 'lena. Tseng's being a real tightass lately. You not putting out enough for him?"
He'd expected a squeal of protest, much like the one from the couch. Elena put down her pen instead, leaned back, glanced at him, and pouted.
"It's not me, Reno. You know, I actually went out to get all these rose petals and candles, then lay on the bed wearing nothing but a smile - and handcuffs, let's not forget the handcuffs. And Tseng just walks in, walks right past me, ditches his boots and collapses into bed and starts snoring. What's a girl supposed to do?"
His jaw fell open. Elena - proper, prudish Elena who blushed at the mere mention of sex… hell, she blushed at the mere mention of Tseng, and they'd been dating for what, half a year already? Damn, he was going to lose that bet with Rude that she and Tseng weren't going to test drive the car before marriage…
Elena's pout turned into a smirk. "Gotcha."
If he'd been drinking that beer that he should have been drinking, that mouthful would have been all over his pants and the coffee table in front of him. "Where is Elena and what the hell have you done with her?"
The low rumble from Rude was probably laughter. "No one can hang around you and not pick up a few things."
"Geez." Reno shook his head. "You're not half as fun like this…"
"Nope," Elena said cheerfully. "But it's more than double the fun, doing that to you." She grinned, then her expression sobered up. "But you're right. Tseng's been stressed out, lately. He's worried about Rufus."
"Yeah," Reno said, sighing and turning his gaze back on the ceiling. "Hard not to be a tightass when the big boss is being even more of a tightass. Should get him to bend Tseng over that fancy desk of his… should loosen both of them up real nice."
That got the desired choke out of Elena. Ah, the day wasn't a complete waste after all.
"Rufus is hiding something," Rude said quietly.
"I think you're right," Elena said, pointedly ignoring Reno. "He's acting the same way he did when he first got the Stigma and didn't want anyone to find out…"
"You think he's sick again?" Reno asked, raising an eyebrow. "He doesn't seem sick to me…" No, Rufus had simply gotten… distant. And distracted. Face-to-face briefings had given way to written correspondence, and even his usual eloquence had faded. Emails were curt, cutting directly to the point, and completely impersonal. It could have been attributed to a lack of time, but that simply wasn't Rufus' style. The man played with words like the Turks played with weapons. Hell, the man played with people.
"Hard to say, with the boss," Rude shrugged. "Should ask Tseng."
"Tseng doesn't know," Elena's voice was soft, worried.
And if Tseng didn't know, that was bad. Damn, but they'd gone through this with Rufus before, hadn't they? No hiding things from the Turks for their sake. It wasn't as though they were made of glass, and it was their role to protect him, not the other way around. "Should grab 'im and strip 'im and see if there's anything."
Elena didn't object immediately, which was another surprise. The conversation faltered, and in the silence, Reno was painfully reminded of the unacceptable lack of beer. Well, the night was still early. Standing, he stretched to get the kinks out of his shoulder. "Hey guys, I'm heading to-"
The door opened quietly. Tseng never slammed doors, but after years of working with the man, Reno had learnt to tell the difference between a door that was opened quietly because it was just the way Tseng handled doors, and a door that was opened very quietly because Tseng was doing his utmost to rein in a formidable temper.
Click, went the door. And click again, as Tseng shut it so very gently, and turned the lock. You could have heard a pin dropping onto a cushion across the city in that silence. Reno resisted the urge to ask the obvious question. Tseng would speak up in his own time. To push him was to court an explosion.
Tseng turned, and with deceptive patience, stripped off the black gloves that he wore. Only when he had removed both of them (and examined them for dirt, damn the man) did he glance up. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, and there was a twist to the corner of his mouth that gave lie to his otherwise calm appearance. "It seems that Shinra Company no longer requires our services."
Rating: PG-13 - Status: One-shot - Warnings: None
Characters: Turks, references to Rufus - Pairings: Tseng/Elena
Timeline: 3 years post Advent Children
Summary: A short scribble fic, part of an excerpt of a longer piece that will be a long time in coming. Turk banter.
A/N: I'm trying my damnest to finish what I started with Edge of the World, Empire and Pathfinder before I go haring off on another long piece. So I'd been making pretty good progress with Edge to the tune of maybe 6000 words, when along comes another plot bunny and bites hard. So, compromise - told it I'd write this piece for it, then it can go sit on the backburner like a good bunny with all the other bunnies (hopefully without breeding). And since I'm not uploading anything for Edge until I'm a lot further along, well. Have a short fic! :D
After the Silence
AFTER the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and place and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience
--T.S. Eliot, The Wasteland
"Oh fucking Bahamut on a stick…"
Neither Rude nor Elena even bothered to glance up when he stormed into the Turk's office. Used to their cold-hearted dismissal of all his perfectly legitimate complaints, Reno just made a beeline for the couch and dropped into it like the Sector 7 plate coming down. The springs squealed in protest.
"Rude-"
"We're out of beer," the other Turk rumbled.
"Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning." In the absence of beer, he opted to thunk his head heavily against the back of the couch, before sliding his eyes over to the other member of the team. "Hey… 'lena. Tseng's being a real tightass lately. You not putting out enough for him?"
He'd expected a squeal of protest, much like the one from the couch. Elena put down her pen instead, leaned back, glanced at him, and pouted.
"It's not me, Reno. You know, I actually went out to get all these rose petals and candles, then lay on the bed wearing nothing but a smile - and handcuffs, let's not forget the handcuffs. And Tseng just walks in, walks right past me, ditches his boots and collapses into bed and starts snoring. What's a girl supposed to do?"
His jaw fell open. Elena - proper, prudish Elena who blushed at the mere mention of sex… hell, she blushed at the mere mention of Tseng, and they'd been dating for what, half a year already? Damn, he was going to lose that bet with Rude that she and Tseng weren't going to test drive the car before marriage…
Elena's pout turned into a smirk. "Gotcha."
If he'd been drinking that beer that he should have been drinking, that mouthful would have been all over his pants and the coffee table in front of him. "Where is Elena and what the hell have you done with her?"
The low rumble from Rude was probably laughter. "No one can hang around you and not pick up a few things."
"Geez." Reno shook his head. "You're not half as fun like this…"
"Nope," Elena said cheerfully. "But it's more than double the fun, doing that to you." She grinned, then her expression sobered up. "But you're right. Tseng's been stressed out, lately. He's worried about Rufus."
"Yeah," Reno said, sighing and turning his gaze back on the ceiling. "Hard not to be a tightass when the big boss is being even more of a tightass. Should get him to bend Tseng over that fancy desk of his… should loosen both of them up real nice."
That got the desired choke out of Elena. Ah, the day wasn't a complete waste after all.
"Rufus is hiding something," Rude said quietly.
"I think you're right," Elena said, pointedly ignoring Reno. "He's acting the same way he did when he first got the Stigma and didn't want anyone to find out…"
"You think he's sick again?" Reno asked, raising an eyebrow. "He doesn't seem sick to me…" No, Rufus had simply gotten… distant. And distracted. Face-to-face briefings had given way to written correspondence, and even his usual eloquence had faded. Emails were curt, cutting directly to the point, and completely impersonal. It could have been attributed to a lack of time, but that simply wasn't Rufus' style. The man played with words like the Turks played with weapons. Hell, the man played with people.
"Hard to say, with the boss," Rude shrugged. "Should ask Tseng."
"Tseng doesn't know," Elena's voice was soft, worried.
And if Tseng didn't know, that was bad. Damn, but they'd gone through this with Rufus before, hadn't they? No hiding things from the Turks for their sake. It wasn't as though they were made of glass, and it was their role to protect him, not the other way around. "Should grab 'im and strip 'im and see if there's anything."
Elena didn't object immediately, which was another surprise. The conversation faltered, and in the silence, Reno was painfully reminded of the unacceptable lack of beer. Well, the night was still early. Standing, he stretched to get the kinks out of his shoulder. "Hey guys, I'm heading to-"
The door opened quietly. Tseng never slammed doors, but after years of working with the man, Reno had learnt to tell the difference between a door that was opened quietly because it was just the way Tseng handled doors, and a door that was opened very quietly because Tseng was doing his utmost to rein in a formidable temper.
Click, went the door. And click again, as Tseng shut it so very gently, and turned the lock. You could have heard a pin dropping onto a cushion across the city in that silence. Reno resisted the urge to ask the obvious question. Tseng would speak up in his own time. To push him was to court an explosion.
Tseng turned, and with deceptive patience, stripped off the black gloves that he wore. Only when he had removed both of them (and examined them for dirt, damn the man) did he glance up. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, and there was a twist to the corner of his mouth that gave lie to his otherwise calm appearance. "It seems that Shinra Company no longer requires our services."