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Gunshot	By : Cynthia Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 964 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all associated characters are the property of Square-Enix. I make no profit from writing this fanfiction, and it is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter List
- 1-Gunshot
- 1
"Gunshot"
A FF7 "Alliance" universe ficlet
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Author's note: This story takes place after "Meet the folks."
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Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all related characters are the property of Square-Enix, and I make no profit from writing these fanfictions. This is for entertainment purposes only.
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He'd decided. All he had to do was look at his attractive, blond companion to know it was the right choice. Now all he had to do was find the right words to tell him of his choice.
"Cloud," Zack murmured, "There's something I want to say."
"If this is about seeing me in a dress, you can forget it," Cloud informed him in a tone that wasn't quite teasing. "Aerith never should have told you about that."
Zack chuckled and shook his head. "It's not about that. This is about me. Look at me, kiddo. I want to see into your eyes when I say this."
Cloud pulled away enough to meet his gaze, his blue eyes searching on Zack's. "Something wrong?"
Zack shook his head again and he brushed the pads of his fingers over those soft, shapely lips. "No. Something's…right. Really right. I mean, right enough for me to be ready to do something I've been thinking about for a long time, but I was too nervous to act on it."
Cloud blinked. "Okay." He looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to run away or encourage him to speak up.
Zack licked suddenly dry lips, anxious but eager to get the words out. "You're always putting up with me rutting over you. I think maybe it's time…no wait…that isn't how I want to say this. Cloud, I want…you're really—"
His phone started to play a loud, hard rock tune.
"Dammit!" Zack reached for the cell and he held up a finger. "Hold that thought, babe."
Seeing the number and ID on the screen, Zack rolled his eyes. Of course, Tseng would pick this moment to get back to him on the mission details. "Cockblocker," he muttered before answering the call. "Zack here."
"Good morning, Zackary," Tseng's voice answered. "I hope it isn't too early."
Zack rubbed his eyes with a thumb and a forefinger and he suppressed a groan of frustration. "No, it's fine. We're just getting the day started, over here."
"Good. I would like to discuss the details of the weekend assignment with you, if you're still interested."
Zack gave his partner a mournful glance. Cloud was staring at a butterfly that had flitted its way over to the porch and landed on the railing. He looked so cute as he watched it with one of those quiet little smiles rarely seen by anyone else.
"Yeah, I'm still interested. Hold on for a minute, and we can talk about it."
Zack covered the phone with one hand and he gave Cloud an apologetic look. "Sorry Chocobo, I've got to take this. Maybe we can finish this conversation another time."
Cloud turned his attention away from the butterfly and looked up at him with concern. "Are you sure everything is okay?"
Unable to resist, Zack leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the mouth. "Absotively. It's nothing that can't wait and everything's a-okay. Don't worry."
Cloud relaxed. "If you say so. I'll go in and get breakfast started. Maybe Reno will wake up in time to have some."
"Good plan," agreed Zack with a wink. He watched him go and he sighed, admiring his backside before bringing the phone to his ear again. "Okay Tseng, let's hear it. What are we going to be doing on this mission?"
"Recovering Wutaian artifacts."
Zack frowned. He certainly wasn't expecting an answer like that. "So we're going on an archeological dig or something?"
"No, nothing like that. These artifacts were stolen from the country during the war between Wutai and ShinRa, back when you and I were both young and starting out in the company."
"So you and I are going to steal them back?" guessed Zack.
"That depends on those who have them in their possession," answered the Turk director. "I'm going to meet up with them as a representative of the company, and you'll be coming with me as my bodyguard."
Zack smirked, thinking of some of the sparring sessions he'd had with Tseng after his return from the dead. "Like you need a bodyguard."
"In this case, I may. I can't show up with a group of armed Turks or MP's. We don't want to alarm these people, if it can be avoided. I've convinced the president to allow me to try and make a fair exchange of money for the artifacts, so that they can be returned to their rightful place. This is meant to be a peace mission, Zackary. ShinRa owes Wutai recompense for the wrongs done to the country during the war. In exchange for the return of these artifacts, we hope to convince the Wutaian republic that ShinRa is sincere about desiring peace and an allegiance."
"Wow." Zack was impressed. "That's a far cry from your usual tactic of 'join us or die'. I guess you guys really are trying to turn over a new leaf."
"I thought we demonstrated as much during the recent conflict with Deepground," Tseng answered coolly. "But yes, it's important to try and negotiate first. After all, the people who now hold these artifacts were once members of the former president's cabinet. They aren't to be underestimated."
"Gotcha. Let me ask you something, though. Why doesn't Rufus just negotiate a peace treaty with Yuffie? She's in charge over there now, right?"
"She is the leader of the governing body of Wutai now, yes," answered Tseng, "but she doesn't make the decisions alone. Much like the president has his executive departments and cabinet members, Yuffie has a council she must refer to in order to make the most significant national decisions. Wutai is still technically ShinRa jurisdiction, but as a show of good faith, the president withdrew his parliament after the recent conflict, in exchange for Yuffie's aid in the fight. We still have to convince the republic once and for all that ShinRa inc. isn't the same organization as it was before, and this may be the way to do it."
Zack scratched his head. He couldn't really blame Wutai for mistrusting ShinRa. He still had trust issues with them, himself. "So as long as the price is right, this should be a cinch."
"In theory," agreed Tseng. "That's why I want you at my side. Should this turn ugly, I need someone I know can handle himself to back me up, and you and I have worked together several times in the past."
Zack smiled at Tseng's covert expression of trust in him. "Then I'll head into Junon to meet up with you now, unless you'd rather send a chopper to come and get me."
"One is already on its way."
Zack's brows went up again and he thought he could already hear the distant sound of an approaching craft. "Wow…okay. How could you be sure I wouldn't say 'no', man?"
"Because I have faith in your honor," answered Tseng simply, "and this is an honorable mission."
Zack felt his face warming at the compliment. "Shucks. I guess I'll see you soon then, Tseng."
He ended the call and went back into the house to gear up and let his companions know he'd be leaving soon.
~****************************~

Tseng was waiting at the Junon airport when Zack arrived, and he approached the chopper to greet him as soon as it landed. His raven hair was unbound and it fell straight down his back, and he was dressed immaculately as always in his Turk uniform. To Zack's surprise, Cissnei was with him and he shared a warm smile with her as he exited the craft and shook hands with Tseng.
"Are you coming on this mission, too?" Zack asked Cissnei as he hugged her gently. Her recovery from her ordeal had been slow, but the sight of her standing there in uniform was proof that she'd regained her strength and was still capable of doing her job.
"I'll be on standby with Elena and Rude, if you guys need us," she answered with a smile. "I trust you and the director to handle it on your own, though."
"It's too bad you couldn't have come and visited our ranch this week," Zack said, still keeping one arm around her as the three of them walked toward the hangar buildings together. "My folks would have liked to see you."
"I would have liked to see them too," she answered, "but I was too busy helping with the reactor cleanup in Gongaga. I got to see them for a little while before we evacuated the village, though."
"That's good." Zack opened the door for her and held it for Tseng, too. He followed behind them once they were inside and they took him to the garage level of the hangar. He found Rude and Elena waiting by a couple of the sleek black company sedans, and they gave him and Tseng a respectful nod of greeting.
"Sir, we're ready to proceed," Rude informed the director, his chiseled features impassive as usual. Elena offered a little smile to Zack, her hazel gaze sweeping over him with quiet admiration.
Tseng nodded in satisfaction and turned to Zack, eyeing him up and down with unreadable black eyes. "I trust the outfit your wearing is designed to allow wing extension, if necessary?"
Zack nodded and turned to show him the parallel Velcro strips over the shoulder blades of his crew shirt. The straps of his scabbard criss-crossed between them to allow room for his sword, without obstructing the wings if he needed to manifest them. "Good to go."
When he turned around again, he noticed that Elena's eyes had dropped below his waist and it occurred to him that she hadn't looked anywhere near his shoulders when he'd turned around. Being the shameless flirt that he was, Zack merely winked at her, bringing forth a blush. Elena checked her watch and got into the car, charmingly pink in the face. Zack felt a gentle poke in his side and he looked down at Cissnei's admonishing, heart-shaped face.
"What?" he demanded with a grin. "It's reflexive."
"You and Reno," she sighed, before joining Elena and Rude in the car.
"Let's get going, Zack," advised Tseng with a polite gesture at the other sedan.
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The other Turks stopped off at a gas station after a while, and three blocks later, Tseng pulled into a parking lot at an abandoned warehouse. Zack looked out the window with a frown, taking note of their location. They were on the south side of lower Junon—an area comparable to the slums of old Midgar, though not nearly as dilapidated.
"Isn't this a little cliché?" Zack muttered. "I mean, the whole 'abandoned warehouse' scene. Things never end well with it."
Tseng drew a pistol from within his blazer and he checked the clip, before putting it back. "Perhaps this scene will be different, for us."
"I thought you weren't expecting trouble."
Tseng unlocked the doors. "Hope and expectation aren't the same things, Zackary. I always expect trouble."
Zack's sigh of resignation was utterly fake, and the brief smirk he got from his companion told him Tseng was onto him. It was in his nature, though. Zack didn't join SOLDIER to talk politics; he joined to kick some ass for justice, and part of him was spoiling for a fight even though he knew it would be best avoided.
They both got out of the car just as another sedan pulled in and approached. Zack resisted the temptation to reach for his sword as the car stopped and four sharp-dressed men got out of it.
"Does everyone in this town drive a sedan?" Zack muttered.
"Shh," advised Tseng.
Zack shrugged. He stood beside his Turk companion with his legs slightly parted in an easy, deceptively relaxed stance as the strangers approached. He noticed that they all had Wutaian features, and that surprised him.
~Tseng said the artifacts were stolen. Why would Wutaians keep national treasures of their own country away from them? Maybe they're just traitors, looking to cash in on his people's heritage. Tseng told me the people that had the goods used to be on old man Shinra's cabinet, though. I don't get it.~
The thought was depressing to Zack. Despite his work with ShinRa in the past to vanquish Wutai, he had respect for their culture and he'd really just hoped he could help end the war before too much damage was done.
"Mr. Tseng?" asked the apparent leader.
Tseng inclined his head in acknowledgement, the gesture dignified and graceful. "Mr. Pao, I presume. This is my companion, Lt. Fair."
The other men looked at Zack shrewdly, and the leader took a step closer to stare at the fighter's eyes. "Mako eyes," he murmured. His gaze went back to Tseng. "You did not lie."
Zack thought the comment was full of weirdness, and he gave Tseng a questioning look. "Lie about what?"
"I delivered the SOLDIER, as promised," said the Turk, ignoring Zack completely. "I would like to see a demonstration of your good faith."
The leader looked at Zack once more, before nodding to his companions. One of them produced an ornate wooden box with Wutaian letters and carvings in it, and he handed it over to Tseng. The Turk leader opened it up while Zack watched. Inside was what appeared to be a small figurine of a tiger, carved out of jade.
Tseng nodded in satisfaction and pocketed the box. "Let's make arrangements for the rest. I trust the payment is sufficient?"
"As agreed," answered the man named Pao.
Zack looked around, getting a sinking feeling when he realized there was no briefcase full of gil and all eyes were on him. "Tseng, what the hell is going on?"
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," Tseng informed him, his features void of expression, "but I had no choice."
Zack stared down the barrel of Tseng's gun with a stricken look he didn't have to feign. He distantly heard the click of more guns as the other men drew on him.
"Please relinquish your sword," Tseng instructed.
Zack started to sputter a confused protest, but Tseng's left eye—the one not visible to the other men due to the way he was facing—winked at him. It was a ruse…of some kind. Since he didn't require a sword to put the butt-hurt on people, Zack complied. His amethyst gaze was openly confused on his companion as he slowly drew the blade and dropped it to the ground.
"You planned this from the beginning," accused Zack, though the underlying message was more like: "What the hell are you expecting me to do now?"
He was a SOLDIER operative though…at least, he used to be. Part of the job was improvising when necessary and using any means to procure a victory. Zack put his hands behind his head when Tseng instructed him to. The only thing keeping him from opening a can of whoop-ass was his faith that the Turk had a plan and knew what he was doing.
Tseng kept his gun trained on Zack as he spoke to Pao. "One of the operatives responsible for the fall of Wutai, in exchange for the location of the other relics. That is our agreement."
"Yes, it is," agreed Pao.
"Then take him, and give me the information."
Pao studied Zack—who was now giving Tseng a genuine look of bloody murder—and then he looked at the Turk. "I have a new thought. You kill him, Tseng. Right here and now."
Tseng's gaze slid to the other Wutaian briefly, revealing nothing. "I was told you wanted the pleasure. Now you're content to give it over to someone else?"
"I know what SOLDIERS can do," answered Pao. "He's too dangerous to take captive. I want him dead now, and I want to see you pull the trigger. It's the only way I can be sure you aren't bluffing."
Tseng hesitated, and Zack tensed. He expected a signal of some sort, to let him know when to launch into motion. He got a signal, all right…but it wasn't what he anticipated at all. Tseng looked at him, narrowed his eyes and steadied his aim on him.
~There's no way he's going to shoot me.~
The confidence of that thought was flushed like shit down a toilet when the gun went off and Zack experienced the all-too-familiar pain of a bullet slamming into his body. He fell backwards to the ground, stunned. Tseng loomed over him and reached down while poor Zack lay in a stupor of betrayal. The gloved fingertips pressed sharply against a spot where his neck met the base of his skull and suddenly, the lights went out. Zack didn't feel the second jab to a different spot, which temporarily stopped his heart.
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"He's dead. Satisfied?"
The Triad members stared at the fallen man with surprise they couldn't conceal. The blood had spread over Zack's chest and he lay still and oblivious. It wasn't enough to convince the leader, though.
"That was too easy. You didn't hit him in the heart."
"No, I finished him off after he went down," explained Tseng. "Have one of your men check his pulse, if you don't believe me."
Pao nodded at one of the shorter men in the group, who approached Zack warily and knelt beside him to feel his throat, wrist and chest. "There's no pulse," he confirmed. "He's dead."
Pao considered Zack, and then he looked at Tseng. "I suppose we could take the body and have it dismembered."
Tseng kept his mask in place. "If you wish. He's no longer my concern."
Pao stared at him and he stared right back. Seemingly satisfied, the other man gave a shrug and a glance at Zack. "I have more important matters to attend. You dispose of the body."
Tseng nodded, hiding his relief well. "Of course. The coordinates of the relics?"
Pao got out his cell phone and texted Tseng. "My people have confirmed that the additional payment is in the bank, so you're welcome to them."
"I appreciate your cooperation," Tseng said coolly after checking the message and mentally mapping the coordinates in his head. "I'm sure I don't need to warn you what will happen, if these aren't legitimate."
"No need," agreed Pao. He glanced at his companions and nodded toward the car. They all got in and drove away, while Tseng watched and silently counted the seconds in his head.
The minute they were out of sight, he squatted by Zack and reversed his handiwork, allowing bloodflow and removing the paralysis. Zack came awake almost immediately, and Tseng watched him with concern as he caught his breath and sat up. The disoriented blue-violet eyes focused on Tseng, alight with emotion and Mako.
"You shot me!"
Tseng glanced up from the fresh injury he'd caused, his dark eyes unreadable. "My apologies, Zack. Be still, so that I can see to this."
"But...you fucking shot me!"
"Yes," agreed the Turk director in an insultingly calm tone, "and I'm fucking sorry. I had no choice."
"Yes you did," argued Zack. "You could have chosen not to shoot me!"
"I had to convince them that I wasn't bluffing," insisted Tseng. "Now be quiet and let me look at this."
His straight black brows were furrowed in concentration as he shone his pen light on the bullet wound. The slug went in right where he'd intended; the meaty part of Zack's left shoulder. Tseng sighed with relief. Shooting someone non-lethally was something he'd honestly never tried to do before, and he'd had to think fast and act faster. The projectile was wedged in the muscle, and while he was sure it must be painful, it hadn't struck an artery, bone or a nerve cluster. He just had to prevent Fair from going into shock while he took him to get medical attention at HQ.
"Come," urged Tseng as he pulled the tattered sleeve back over the injury. He helped Zack to his feet and looked around to get his bearings, draping the protesting ex-Soldier's uninjured arm over his shoulder. "Let's get to my car so I can take you to headquarters."
"No way," grunted Zack, resisting. "I'm not going anywhere with you! Just use a Cure materia or give me a healing potion."
"Zack, that bullet has to come out before we do that; otherwise it could cause an infection. Besides, I doubt you'd prefer to spend your life with a bullet wedged in your shoulder."
"I'll take my chances," insisted Zack stubbornly, trying to pull away from Tseng. "I could always have it taken out later. Just close me up before I start loosing too much blood and use Esuna to counter any blood poisoning."
"That's clever, but it isn't guaranteed to w—"
"Just do it!" Zack gritted his teeth and glared blue-violet daggers at him from beneath displaced locks of raven hair. "I'm not going into any ShinRa building for medical care, got it?"
Tseng sighed. Even injured, Zack Fair was too much for him to handle alone. There was simply no way he could force a man with Zack's Mako enhanced strength into his car while he was conscious, and the willful lummox was now avoiding contact that would enable Tseng to use pressure points.
"As you wish," answered the Turk at last. "At least let me get you into the car first. We don't need to attract attention and you'll be more comfortable stretched out on the back seat."
"Fine," Zack agreed with obvious reluctance.
With a bit of care and a slight struggle, Tseng got him properly supported and he helped him over to the car. He kept his gun ready the entire time, just in case the people he'd made the business deal with were still around. After ensuring it was clear, he helped Zack over to the black hover sedan and got him into the back seat.
"Wait," protested the fighter with a soft groan of pain, just as Tseng was about to shut the door and get into the driver's seat. "My sword."
Tseng glanced over his suit-clad shoulder at the building with a frown. "Is it really important, Zack? I need to get you out of here...at least away from this block and somewhere out of sight. We don't need them coming back and ambushing us whilst I'm trying to heal you."
Zack considered it for a moment and then he sighed and shook his spiky head. "Screw it; I've got five more just like it at the house. Let's book...and I swear to Gaia if I see you turning down any streets that could take us anywhere near your headquarters, I'll kick you in the back of the head and jump out of this car faster than you can blink."
The corner of Tseng's mouth turned up ever so slightly, and he calmly put the car in reverse to back out of the parking spot. "At least you aren't threatening to kill me, Zackary."
Tseng got on the phone with his fellow Turks to report the situation. "Elena, return to HQ. I've sent you the coordinates. They'll be expecting you, so be on your guard and get out the moment you see the slightest hint of aggression. If they betray us, we can bring greater numbers to deal with it. I'm returning to my place with Fair now. He's been injured, but it isn't serious. Contact me when you have something to report."
"Yes, Director," she agreed.
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Zack looked out the window warily as Tseng pulled into the driveway of a home at the edge of town. The architecture of the building was the same as all the rest in Junon, but he could tell that the two-story structure wasn't an apartment building.
"Where are we?"
"My house," answered Tseng.
He drove the sedan through the electric gates and back behind the building, turning sharply to park it in the garage built into the first floor of the structure. The vehicle gently settled down as Tseng turned off the hover function and he turned in his seat to regard Zack, looking over the rim of his shades at him.
"Don't look at me that way, Zackary. I'll explain everything inside, while I see to your injury. Since you don't want to have it treated at headquarters, I'll have to remove the bullet myself or take you to the local emergency room."
Zack sighed, grimacing as he shifted his injured shoulder. He'd kept pressure on it but he'd suffered some blood loss, and it was starting to make him feel a little weak. "You think you can dig this slug out of me without butchering me?"
Tseng just looked at him. Zack remembered that the man was a master of anatomy. There was a reason prisoners begged for death when discovering Tseng of the Turks would be interrogating them, after all. Zack suspected the man might have once studied to be a surgeon, but Tseng's past before the Turks remained a mystery.
"Fine," he grumbled. "Let's get this over with."
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"Hold still," admonished Tseng as he finished removing Zack's shirt and bade him to lay back in the chaise lounge. Zack did so uncertainly, looking around the sunroom with admiration despite his obvious pain.
"Are you sure you aren't worried about getting blood on this chair?"
Tseng rinsed his hands off in the bowl of warm water sitting on the wicker coffee table and he shook his head, reaching for the latex gloves he'd retrieved from his bag of instruments. He set them aside for now and he applied some medication to a sterile gauze.
"Not at all. The towel should protect it and if not, I can have it cleaned professionally. My furniture has been stained with the blood of Turks many times already, Zack."
"Hmph…I guess it shouldn't surprise me. Hsst…easy! That stings!" Zack flinched when Tseng abruptly dabbed disinfectant medicine over the outer edge of the bullet wound.
The Turk paused and glanced at him, deliberately keeping his dark gaze professional despite his covert admiration of Zack's naked upper body. The man had arms, abs and a chest to make even the most disciplined individual salivate, and the light summer tan added just the right touch. He'd always liked the way Zack tanned when he got enough sun to do so. He was reminded of Costa Del Sol, and he nearly smiled at the memory of the umbrella fight he'd witnessed there.
"What are you grinning about?"
Tseng met Zack's eyes with a polite lift of his brows. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your eyes were smiling, just now," observed the swordsman shrewdly. He gave him a painful smirk. "Sometimes you slip, Tseng."
Tseng lowered said eyes and he concentrated on the task at hand. "Perhaps there still remains some humanity in me, Zackary. Now, be still while I deaden this."
"Okay."
Zack braced himself, but he clearly wasn't expecting for Tseng to go for a pressure point. "Hey, what are you doing? Ow!" He tried to move away in response to the sudden press of the Turk's skilled fingers against the spot where his shoulder met his chest, not far from the bullet wound. "Would you stop poking me?"
"I was numbing your arm," explained the Turk, hiding amusement. "Unless you would rather me do this with only a mild local anesthetic. Can you feel the pain anymore?"
Zack went still, frowning. His expression lightened endearingly and Tseng imagined that if he were a wolf or a dog, his ears would have perked up with interest. "No, it doesn't hurt at all. Hey, that's pretty cool, Tseng!"
"Excellent." Tseng allowed himself a brief smile of approval. He gentled his voice and adopted a soothing tone, "Now relax and listen to the fountain in the koi pond, while I do this. I think I can do it quickly."
"Uh…but I can't feel my arm, either," Zack announced, his tension returning. "The whole thing is numb."
"It's only temporary," assured Tseng. "I would never risk nerve damage, Zack. You're a great fighter and it would only go against my organization's best interests, to risk your skills."
"You didn't seem to care much about that at the warehouse," Zack grumbled, his blue-violet gaze resentful.
"I did what was necessary, nothing more. As I said, I'll explain it all when I've finished repairing the damage I did, and perhaps you'll forgive me. Now please do as I ask and relax."
Zack exhaled slowly and did as instructed. His eyes went to the little fish pond in the center of the sunroom and he watched the animals swim, before settling his gaze on the mini Leviathan fountain in the center. "So, fish, huh? Are they hard to take care of?"
"Not especially," answered the Turk. He put the gloves on and reached for the scalpel on the metal tray sitting on the table. "I have people I can call if I'm unable to keep the schedule required to keep them happy, healthy and well-fed. I find them to be soothing creatures to be around, don't you?"
"Yeah…soothing."
Something in Zack's voice gave him pause, and Tseng glanced up from his task. The Soldier was staring at him. For a minute, their eyes held and then Zack looked away, staring at the fountain again with somewhat obnoxious concentration. "Fish are cool."
Tseng's mouth curved into a subtle, velvety smirk as he resumed his work. He'd always thought Zack Fair would never consider him as a romantic interest, but now he wondered. "I once had a similar conversation to this with Reno. The two of you share some mannerisms, Zackary."
"I guess he rubbed off on me a little. So, what do you do in here? Read? Meditate?"
"Both, depending on my mood," answered Tseng.
"Why don't you go ahead and tell me what the deal was back there," insisted Zack. "Who were those guys, really?"
"Former members of the president's cabinet, as I said."
"But…they were Wutaian."
Tseng nodded. "Yes. When Rufus' father first gained a foothold in Wutai, he employed some of the native republic officials to work in the senate, to procure negotiations between Wutai and the company. He misled them. They were desperate to save their culture and way of life. President Shinra promised leniency if they would use their influence to encourage surrender."
"So he lied," guessed Zack with a frown.
Tseng nodded and he adjusted the floor lamp to shine it directly where he needed it. "The war only became bloodier, until the president was forced to send in SOLDIER operatives to handle the rebels. Those men today realized that the president had no intention of sparing Wutai's historical treasures or culture, so they orchestrated the theft of some of the most sacred artifacts of the land. They did it to preserve our…I mean their country's treasures, rather than see them taken by foreigners to be displayed as curiosities."
"That sucks," remarked Zack. "I can see where they were coming from. I can't really blame them."
Tseng offered him a brief smile—lips and all. "You have a generous nature, Zack. Far too trusting, but generous."
"Thanks. I mean about the generous part. I don't think you meant the trusting part as a compliment."
"It could be," answered Tseng. He found the slug and he carefully worked it out with the tweezers. "I think it wouldn't suit you, if you were to become as jaded as the rest of us. The truth is, those men had good intentions, but in the end they bowed to greed and vengeance. When offered enough gil and the chance to see a SOLDIER operative pay the ultimate price, their honor was oddly lacking. I had no intention of shooting you when this began, Zackary. I had to improvise. I knew you could escape if I let them take you and I intended to trail you with my associates, just in case."
"Why didn't you just tell me the truth, before we got there?"
Tseng deposited the bloodied piece of metal on the tray with a "clink" and he looked into Zack's eyes. "Because in addition to being somewhat overly trusting, you're also too honest. I needed you to be sincerely surprised when I 'turned' on you. If I had told you the plan in full, I doubt you could have put on a convincing enough act."
Zack sighed, conceding the point. "You're probably right. I'm a cruddy actor. I'm still kind of mad at you, though."
"I understand." Tseng again put his regret aside, for the greater good. "I have faith that you'll forgive me eventually, though."
Zack stared at him as he closed the wound and temporarily sutured it with medical tape, to keep it tightly sealed for the healing spell and reduce scarring. "Well, at least you're taking good care of me now. I guess that makes up for some of it."
Tseng chuckled softly before he could contain it. "Typical Zack Fair; thanking me for healing the damage I caused in the first place. You haven't changed."
"You have."
"Have I?" Mildly surprised by the observation, Tseng activated the Cure materia and magically healed the wound. Satisfied with his efforts, he removed the tape.
"Yeah," answered Zack. "You smile a little more than you used to. You were so serious and brittle when I first met you. Maybe it was because you were trying so hard to earn approval or something, but you seem more laid back, now."
"Or perhaps it only seems that way because we're more familiar with each other, now," suggested the Turk. "I tend to show old acquaintances more of my true face."
Zack watched him curiously.
"What is it, Zack?" Tseng finished up and began putting everything away and wiping things down.
"Nothing," answered the Soldier glibly with a lopsided shrug. "I guess I'm just wondering how much of that 'face' I've seen, so far."
Tseng's eyes met his again, and he answered with complete honesty and sincerity. "More than most outside my circle have, I assure you."
Zack's lips parted and he looked as though he wanted to make another inquiry, but he frowned at his newly healed arm instead. He made a soft grunting sound and he picked up his left wrist with his right hand, lifting it off the arm of the chair and dropping it.
"I still can't feel my arm. Aren't you going to undo whatever you did to make it go numb?"
"It will wear off on its own," assured the Turk. "You should start to feel tingles within the next ten minutes."
"Oh." Zack gave another lopsided shrug, apparently satisfied with the answer.
Tseng's phone rang and he answered it with a polite, apologetic glance at Zack. "This is Tseng. Yes? And there was no trouble? Good. Have our people bring the transport to assist you. The president will decide how to bring them to Wutai. Yes, he's fine. Thank you, Elena."
Zack waited while Tseng ended the call. The Turk looked at him, his gaze sliding over the shirtless, powerful body in an assessing manner. He looked a bit pale. "Why don't you have a shower and allow me to treat you to dinner, Zack? I could arrange a flight home for you today, but I think you should recover your strength."
"Feeling guilty?" Zack grinned at him.
"Obligated," corrected Tseng. "I rarely suffer guilt or offer apologies for professional decisions."
"But you still apologized," reminded Zack.
Tseng's mouth quirked, and he knew he was being teased. "Yes, I did. It seemed like the polite thing to do. I did shoot you, after all."
Zack sat up in the chair with a grunt, and he accepted Tseng's offered hand to help him up. "Yeah, you did. What the heck, I could eat. Is there a good motel or something around here where I can shack up for the night?"
"The company can give you a suite in Headquarters, free of charge," answered Tseng. "Just as we did when you and Cloud helped with Deepground. Conversely, you could take my guest room for the night. I can drive you to the airport in the morning to see you off." He made the offer casually, reminding himself that he had no place fantasizing about satisfying the desire that Reno alone had thus far picked up on.
Zack thought about it for a minute and he nodded. "If it's no trouble, I'd rather crash here for the night than go across town to HQ. I'm a little tired."
Tseng nodded. "Of course you are. You've lost some blood. Come, I'll show you to the bathroom and the guest room, and I have a bathrobe you can use. We'll wash your clothes while I'm cooking."
"Sounds good to me," agreed Zack."
Tseng felt another smirk threatening. So trusting…even now.
~*****************************~

Once Tseng gave him a brief tour of the house, Zack showered, put his clothes in the wash and helped himself to a beer at the Turk's insistence. He felt a little out of place in the fine satin kimono provided for him as a bathrobe, but he had nothing else to wear while his clothes were washing. Tseng served a dinner of stir-fry, keeping it simple for Zack's sake. Zack was familiar enough with Wutai culture to take his place at the floor-level table without any awkwardness. He situated himself on one of the sitting pillows and he sniffed the air in appreciation as Tseng brought in bowls of food.
"I hope rice is okay," said the Turk as he set the ornately decorated bowl before Zack. "I considered noodles."
"Rice is cool," Zack assured. He watched as Tseng sat down opposite of him at the dark stone table and sprinkled some sauce into his own bowl. Noticing that the other man had a pair of glossy black chopsticks, while he had a fork and a spoon laid out on his napkin, Zack's adventurous spirit came forth.
"Hey, could I try eating with some of those?" He gestured at the chopsticks as Tseng began to stir his food with them.
The Wutaian looked down at the utensils in his hand. "I suppose no harm can come of it, provided you don't put your eye out."
"Ha…ha. I'm not that clumsy."
Tseng smirked, and he slid the chopsticks holder in the center of the table Zack's way. "By all means, feel free."
Zack thought the device looked something like a pencil holder, but much fancier. Glancing at the traditional paintings on the walls of the dining room, he took a pair and he looked at Tseng, trying to mimic how he was holding them.
"Like this? Oops." He dropped the left one onto the table and he quickly picked it up again. "I'll get it, you'll see."
"Would you like me to show you?"
Zack looked at the other man, his gaze unconsciously straying to the top three buttons of Tseng's white shirt. They were undone, and he'd removed his blazer and tie. It was perhaps the most casual Zack had ever seen the man look. With his raven hair falling loose down his back, it was easy to pretend he was just a normal—albeit very attractive and exotic—guy. The bindi tattoo in the center of Tseng's forehead lent an even more exotic appeal to his sculpted looks.
~The dude is really…pretty. Gotta stop looking at him that way, though. He'd probably flip me on my back and stab my eye out with one of these chopsticks if I told him so.~
"Zackary?" One of those straight black brows lifted in an elegant, inquisitive manner.
"Uh, yeah…sure, why not? I'm usually a pretty fast learner, but I do better when someone shows me how, first."
Tseng put his chopsticks into his bowl and he picked it up, along with his glass of wine. He got up gracefully and he circled around to the other side of the table to sit beside Zack. Setting his food and drink down, he took the fighter's right hand in his and he helped him to situate the chopsticks.
"Hold them this way," he instructed, "almost like a pen. It allows you to grasp with them."
"So how do I scoop up the rice?" Zack queried.
"It will take practice," answered Tseng, "so don't be embarrassed to use the spoon or fork. Practice picking up the larger pieces and use the other utensils for the rice. Otherwise, your meal will get cold before you can get halfway through it and you'll probably end up with most of it in your lap."
Zack chuckled. "Right. Okay, here goes my first try." He managed to grasp a piece of broccoli, but as he got it halfway to his lips, the chopsticks went askew and the hot vegetable dropped onto his satin-clad thigh.
"Aw, no! I'm sorry, Tseng. I got sauce on your nice robe."
"It's okay," assured the Turk patiently. "It will wash."
He picked up the broccoli and Zack felt an unreasonable stir of tension in his lower belly and pelvis in response to the brief contact. Tseng put the broccoli on a napkin and he took the chopsticks from Zack. "Here, watch how I do it."
Zack did as instructed and he tried not to think of the things those hands had done to people. Tseng had an artists' or physician's hands, for certain. It provoked thoughts of what they might be capable of doing to give pleasure rather than pain, and Zack remembered the book he'd "borrowed" from Tseng years ago. He started to blush, and it only got worse when the other man grasped a bit of chicken and brought it to his lips.
"Here," offered Tseng, his dark, almond-shaped eyes holding Zack's.
Zack automatically parted his lips and allowed the Turk to deposit the morsel into his mouth. He chewed mechanically, vaguely noticing how much better Tseng's stir fry was than his own attempts at the popular dish.
"Mm, good," he complimented after swallowing. His face felt hot.
"Zack, there's no shame in requiring some help with chopsticks," soothed Tseng, misunderstanding the reason for his embarrassment.
"You make it look so easy," excused Zack, watching as Tseng put his chopsticks down to get a bite of food from his own bowl.
"I grew up using them," reminded the Turk after chewing and swallowing. "You didn't. If it's any consolation, the first time I tried using a fork was a nightmare."
Zack grinned and reached for his beer. "Yeah? I would have thought forks would be a lot easier to figure out than chopsticks. I mean, you just point and stab, basically."
"One would think," agreed Tseng, "but I had never seen one before, except in television. Wutaians use spoons when appropriate, but the fork was a completely new thing for me."
Zack carefully picked up a mushroom with his chopsticks and he stuffed it into his mouth before he could lose his grip. He pocketed the food against his left cheek and asked a question, before chewing. "So how did you handle it, for the first time?"
Tseng shook his head and sighed. "Like a harpooner going after a whale. I actually chipped the plate."
Zack choked on his drink and he hastily reached for the napkin to cover his mouth as he recovered. "Oh man," he coughed when he could trust himself to speak again. "That must have been a sight! I would have loved to take a picture."
"You and Reno both, I imagine." Tseng returned his smile and had another bite of food. "But it just goes to show that we all falter when faced with something new, for the first time."
That heat returned then as Zack thought he detected an underlying, hidden meaning to those words. He reasoned brutally with himself, insisting that nothing was different between them and the only reason this situation felt the way it did was because he'd never been in one like it before, with this man. Nearly all of his previous interactions with Tseng had been work related. Yeah, he'd always thought Tseng was kind of beautiful in an untouchable way, but he'd never actually thought of him romantically, before. He blamed it on the situation and the fact that the man had nursed his injuries and cooked him a meal—never mind that the injuries wouldn't be there to begin with, if it weren't for him.
"So this artifact situation really meant a lot to you, huh?" Zack said, trying to steer the subject towards a more casual—or at least less romantic—direction. He gave up on trying to eat with the chopsticks, because he feared Tseng might hand feed him again and if he did that, he might try to kiss him.
Tseng nodded, washing down a bite with a sip of wine before responding. "It did. These days I'm a Turk first and foremost, but I try to honor my heritage, all the same."
Looking around, Zack understood. Tseng's décor was very Wutaian. He even had custom-built sliding paper doors throughout the house, rather than wooden ones. "Roots are important. I've got to say, I love how this place is set up. It's like I'm in Wutai."
Tseng smiled with obvious pleasure, for once unguarded. "Thank you. That was the intention. I think I like this place more than my old one in Midgar."
Zack stared at the expression, entranced by the newness of it. He felt like he was finally peeling away some of the layers. "Do you ever get homesick?"
"This is my home, now. Being reminded of Wutai is a comfort to me, but I belong here."
"Hmm. I guess that makes sense." Zack took another bite and he waited until he'd swallowed it before going on. "I think about Gongaga sometimes, but I don't really miss it. I miss my family and some of the villagers, but I wouldn't want to live there again. I'm a different guy, now."
"We all change," agreed Tseng.
"So uh, what do you think you'd be doing for a living now, if you hadn't joined the Turks?" Zack questioned, feeling like he could get away with digging a little more.
"I'd probably be a surgeon," answered Tseng. "Or a martial arts competitor."
Zack nodded, unsurprised by either supposition. "I'll bet you'd kick ass at both. Where did you learn to do all that stuff with the pressure points? Shouldn't those other guys have known something about that, if it's a Wutaian thing?"
"What I did to you was a forbidden technique," answered Tseng, "and the academy would immediately bar anyone found to have used such a skill against another human being from ever entering tournaments again. Killing is unacceptable, and that was a killing move."
"Wow…" Zack realized how close he could have come to rejoining Aerith and Angeal in the Lifestream. "You really could have killed me today, and I wouldn't have even got the chance to fight back. That's kind of humbling."
Tseng smirked sidelong at him. "Keep your pride, Fair. Considering you faced down the entire ShinRa army once on your own and nearly won, today was no failure. The only reason I succeeded in putting you down was because you trusted me, and you had no reason to expect an attack. If I were to attack you now—"
Zack saw it coming even as Tseng spoke the words, and he caught the other man's wrist as it came down. He detected the glint of fine metal in Tseng's hand and he stared at the sharp blade of the paring knife that hovered over his half-bared chest. The kimono had slipped, and Zack could feel it sliding down over his previously injured shoulder as he held Tseng's arm captive. Bewildered, lavender-rimmed blue eyes stared into calm, velvety brown ones as their gazes locked.
"You see?" murmured Tseng, opening his hand to let the weapon drop. "Your trust in me is damaged, and you saw it coming. I stand no chance against you, now."
"Where did you even get that?" demanded Zack, his eyes flicking to the knife.
"It was on the table," answered Tseng. "I took it just before I made my move. You were too absorbed in our conversation to notice, however. You're usually so much more observant, than that."
Zack's breath quickened as he stared into those fathomless eyes. Tseng's body was pressing against his and though he wasn't trying to escape the hold on his wrists, he strained against it. There was an intensity in his eyes that Zack was all too familiar with—though he had never seen it coming from Tseng, before now.
"Zackary," murmured the Wutaian in that low, seductive drone of his, "I would like to make up for my deception today."
Zack didn't release him. His groin started to swell beneath the kimono and he licked suddenly dry lips. "I don't know where you're coming from, man. I don't know what you're going to do next. One minute you're feeding me and making jokes about yourself and the next, you're coming at me with a butterknife."
"A paring knife," corrected Tseng. "And I wouldn't have stabbed you, even if you had failed to deflect me."
"Since you shot me without blinking today, I'm thinking I'd better not take your word for that."
Tseng smiled subtly. "You don't find it thrilling?"
"Knowing someone I thought I could trust gets off on putting me full of holes? No, not really."
Contrary to his statement, Zack's groin swelled further and he grimaced, hoping his companion wouldn't notice. Tseng's lips were so close and so inviting. The truth was, a good spar with someone he liked turned Zack on and Tseng probably knew that. He wasn't going to admit it, though. He thought back on the sparring sessions he'd shared with the Turk director in the past, when he was trying to get used to his wings and his resurrected body. He'd suffered a couple of boners then too, but there wasn't this kind of…intimacy…to make it so personal.
"I was trying to prove a point," pardoned Tseng, still holding Zack's gaze. "Forgive my lack of tact."
Suddenly, his mouth closed in on Zack's and his lips pressed against his. The fighter loosened his hold on Tseng's wrists out of surprise, and the Turk pulled the left one free and cupped the back of Zack's head. His lips moved against Zack's in a passionately coaxing manner and the long fingers threaded through his damp hair. Zack impulsively started to kiss him back, though his mind was so full of questions he could hardly think straight. Tseng's tongue traced the crease between Zack's lips and the fighter parted them, allowing it in to fence with his. Zack put his arms around Tseng and pulled him closer, overcome by the moment and a rush of desire he wasn't prepared for.
Being the sort of man he was Zack started to do what he did best. He began to deftly unbutton Tseng's shirt, and he traded dominance of the kiss with him, until he had a better understanding of what sort of mouth actions turned him on the most. Once he'd tested the waters, he took over the kisses and he slid his tongue into his mouth to stroke Tseng's, caressing either side of it alternately before fondling the tip. Tseng made a sound in the back of his throat that was unique to him. Zack had never heard anything quite like it before, and he slipped a hand into the Wutaian's open shirt to explore the tight, toned chest. He circled a nipple with the pads of his fingers and Tseng shivered in response, murmuring in pleasure against Zack's lips.
Sinking deeper into the moment, Zack kept teasing the tightened, dusky bud and he released Tseng's mouth and brushed his hair aside with his free hand. He started kissing his throat and he splayed his hand against the small of his back. Tseng's hands began to untie his Kimono and Zack groaned against the Turk's neck as the hand that had been cupping the back of his head slipped into the garment to rub his thigh. He twitched and swelled further, entertaining thoughts of pushing Tseng down on the imported table and tearing his clothes off. He never would have pictured himself getting it on with this man before, but now it felt like he simply had to.
Zack started to act on his urges, pushing aside the forgotten bowls of stir-fry to make room. He knocked over his beer and his arm struck the bowl of fruit in the center of the table. From his peripheral vision, he saw an orange roll across the table and he suddenly got an image of his father in his head.
"I hope you're not planning on adding any more oranges to the bushel. I think two is enough for one man, don't you?"
The recollection of the conversation reminded him that he already had two lovers waiting for him at home—one of which happened to sleep with the man he was now mauling on a semi-regular basis. Zack broke the kiss and pulled away, gasping.
"I can't," he said breathlessly as Tseng sat up and stared at him. "I can't eat another orange."
For the second time in under an hour, Tseng's expression was open. He looked genuinely, utterly confused…and a bit worried. "Zackary, I think we may need to take you to a doctor, after all. Perhaps you were out for too long."
"I'm fine," insisted Zack. "Well, I'm confused and horny, but I don't need a doctor."
"You interrupted our encounter to babble about oranges."
Zack laughed almost hysterically, and he dragged his fingers through his unkempt dark hair and straightened his kimono. He looked at the Turk with apologetic, regretful eyes and he tried not to admire how sexy and disheveled he looked right now. "I know who I am and where I'm at. The orange thing is…a thing…it's a metaphor. Girls are apples, guys are oranges. I've got two oranges and even though I'm sure one of them wouldn't mind me biting into a third, the other might get upset if I don't at least clear it with him."
"Ah, Cloud," sighed Tseng with understanding. "Of course." He combed his hair back into place with his fingers as well, casting a quietly regretful look at Zack. "I owe you an apology. I didn't intend to upset you."
"I know," Zack assured hastily. He nearly groaned as he looked the other man up and down. Tseng's shirt was still hanging open and damned if he didn't have a gorgeous, tawny body.
"I want to…you have no idea how much I want to do this with you right now, but I can't. I've at least got to clear it with Cloud and Reno. I know you've all got your uh…relationship triangles and they work for you, but this is the first time I've ever been with more than one person at once and sometimes, I still feel like I'm cheating on one of them when the other isn't around. I…I guess I'm not good at the open relationship thing."
He started to babble, hardly drawing breath between his sentences. "If I'd known you thought of me that way at all, I probably would have jumped you a long time ago, but now I'm with these two guys and I love 'em both and they love me and I don't want to offend you or hurt your feelings because damn you look and smell so good—"
"Zack…"
"—but I'm a really faithful kind of guy once I'm with someone and so is Cloud and I guess in his weird way Reno is too but the thing is no matter how much I want to make a manwich with you on this table right now I can't do that without betraying my babes and that's—"
"Zackary—"
"—Just wrong, you know? Pops said I shouldn't be greedy and he's totally right about that—"
Tseng spoke more forcibly. "Be quiet, or I'll have to cut your tongue out."
Zack took the threat seriously enough to comply, unwittingly giving the Turk his famous "puppy look" in his misery. Tseng's expression softened and he smiled a little, shaking his head.
"The only one who should apologize here is me," said the Wutaian. "I knew the sort of man you are and part of me hoped I could get around that, the way Reno did. I need to accept the possibility that you just aren't for me. Please, don't allow my indiscretion to tarnish our professional relationship…and there's no need to remind me of the gunshot or the knife attack, either. We've been over that already."
Zack took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling slightly better. He was still turned on and he self-consciously adjusted the kimono again. He wasn't sure he and Tseng could work even on a casual level, but he wasn't quite willing to abandon the possibility, after such a heated makeout session. "Let's just put a pin in it, for now. Sound good?"
Tseng nodded. "Fair enough."
Something else sprang to Zack's mind, then. Tseng really had done an awful lot for him, or at least, tried to. "Hey Tseng?"
"What is it, Zackary?" The Turk regarded him with lingering passion and some regret.
"I never thanked you. You know, for holding onto those letters Aerith sent me over the years, and for trying to get them to me and trying to help me and Cloud. That was really decent of you."
Tseng's sculpted features relaxed, and he nodded. "There's little I won't do for those who earn my respect, even if my methods seem…unorthodox."
Zack nodded, realizing he would probably never really understand the man.
~************************~

After cleaning up the beer he'd spilt and finishing dinner, Zack called Cloud and Reno to let them know he was all right and the mission was a success, and Tseng spoke long-distance with Rufus to report his progress. They went to their separate beds and both men lay awake for several hours, thinking over the encounter that neither of them had planned. Maybe something would come of it in the future, or maybe not.
The one thing they both knew was that they would never forget that one, heated moment in which they threw aside everything else and acted on their mutual, secret attraction.
~**************************~

The End
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