Perhaps not so good an evening, for some

[mydarknation]

Who: Rufus, Tseng
When: Day 64, evening
Location: Gongaga, garden near HQ.
Rating: PG13?
Summary: Rufus runs into Tseng, whose insecurities have flared up in response to Veld's arrival.

Comments

You can dock the money from my paycheck. :/

[winchester300]

Was something bothering him? A wave of nausea threatened to consume the Turk as he shook his head, slowly, a grimace in place and the incriminating bottle still dangling precariously by its neck from his hand. How to answer that question? How to respond in a way that won't jeopardise his professionalism any more than this pitiful display of drunkenness already has? Something was bothering him, oh yes- The humanity Tseng had cut into bloody pieces over the years, discarded, buried, fed to the dogs, had morphed together again in the shape of an old mentor determined not to let the young one forget. Sephiroth was alive. Aerith was alive. All these weaknesses were alive, rampant, famished for his attention.

And what was everything for? Money and livelihood were only trivial matters. No. Since their alliance had been forged, Tseng did everything for him - this prince of a ruined empire, because this prince was the only one left with ambitions and dreams grand enough to fill Tseng's own need to believe.

Aerith had wanted...to save the world.

The bottle in his hand slipped and fell into the grass at their feet. Tseng's brows furrowed, eyes closed against the dizziness that had started the world around him spinning.

"I'm fine," he lied, and knew even in his stupor how see-through the lie was. "Sir. I'm sorry you had to see this. If you- Please, just leave me. I'll be fine; just give me a little bit of time..."

You bet I will

[mydarknation]

For a moment, Rufus simply looked at him, one eyebrow raised, debating whether or not to honor that request to leave him alone. It was quite obvious that he was, in fact, not fine, but that had been his suspicion in the first place, or he wouldn't have asked. As for leaving him alone, that was another question. Even if Tseng was in pretty bad shape at the moment, Rufus didn't doubt that the Turk could take care of himself and that he would be fine eventually. That much wasn't a lie.

And yet, this kind of behavior seemed particularly unusual coming from Tseng. Curiosity, if not outright worry, drove him to try to understand what had forced its way under Tseng's skin.

"Alcohol makes you a far less convincing liar, you realize." He regarded Tseng with a mild frown, and didn't move from where he'd been standing. Part of his thoughts went back to a night not long ago when a few too many things had been weighing on his mind and he'd chosen a similar way to deal with it. He hadn't wanted to talk to Tseng that night, either, not at all, and yet he'd somehow decided that calling the random numbers of Scarlet and Reeve would be preferable to being alone.

I hope this wasn't overpriced wine, though knowing you, I hope in vain.

[winchester300]

"I'm not lying." A soft murmur as Tseng dipped his head, eyes still closed, before a string of quiet, strangled laughter issued from his lips. "Ha...no, you're right, sir. Alcohol does have that effect. Of making people more transparent."

He swallowed. Drew a long, shuddering breath, and let it out again as slowly as he could. Pulse still abnormally strong against his temples, but now slow enough for coherent thought to reform, Tseng allowed his gaze to meet the steady blue of Rufus's.

"I'm tired, that's all," he admitted finally, combing back the bangs that had fallen loose around his face and resting fingers briefly against his forehead. It felt like admitting defeat, because it was. "Recent events...taking me by surprise. Thought I'd- Take a leaf out of Reno's book, but, being blissfully wasted is harder than it looks."

The hand fell, then, palm laid heavily on the white cloth of the other man's shoulder. Remembering a time when Rufus stood no taller than the Turk's chest, and the look in the young vice president's eyes was more expressive, looser, vicious. Remembering watching them glow with triumph and cold mirth, dim in maturity, all but extinguish as the Geostigma wrecked his body and bitterness plagued his mind.

And that flicker of green, that dash of brown - two other pairs of eyes - were easier to forget, to replace by light of merciless blue. Tseng would consider the significance of that, perhaps one day, if he chanced to remember. If the thought ever occurred again to him while he was capable of giving them proper attention.

"I might need a holiday, if you'll permit." He smiled, feeling more sober. The hand tightened briefly and fell away. "After completing my mission. Of course. I think I need- Some time away from being a Turk."

Which was a sudden and somewhat...disconcerting idea, as Tseng had defined himself as nothing but a Turk for the better part of fifteen years.

That depends on your definition of "overpriced"

[mydarknation]

Tired. Rufus peered at the other man, and found no fault with that assessment. It was at least partially the effect of the alcohol, but Tseng looked like he very well might just fall over. Even so, the hand that suddenly landed on Rufus' shoulder took him by surprise. His eyes widened a bit, even as the words that accompanied the action brought a dry smile to his lips.

You say that as if you're the only person to mistakenly decide that alcohol might help something. Had Tseng not been around for the aftermath of that same mistake made by Rufus not too long ago? And if Rufus' guess at what might be bothering Tseng was correct, then the things that had been plaguing him then and those plaguing Tseng now were, while not the same, not entirely dissimilar. Ghosts of the past were powerful things.

When Tseng spoke again, the smile faded into a small, serious frown.

"Make that request when you’re thinking straight and I might give it some thought," he replied, his tone indicating not that he wouldn't allow a bit of time off if Tseng actually needed it, but that he meant precisely what he said. One simply shouldn't trust the judgment of a man who was presently drunk and distraught. "As for now, I think you’ll be fine in the morning.”

In the meantime, he would try not to think too much about the possibilities of what away from being a Turk might mean.