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Taking Care of Business	By : Turkaholic Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1121 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter 8

I'd been a Turk for two and a half years now. Two and a half years of shootouts, bullet wounds, severed body parts and explosions, and you know what? I still couldn't get used to this crap: sitting behind a desk like a good little Shinra worker, writing reports about the people I'd just killed.

I sighed and rubbed my head, wondering what the hell I was meant to be writing again. This was not what I wanted to be thinking about right now. What I wanted to be thinking about was the events of last night. Nearly being shot in the damn head aside, it was probably the best night of my crappy little life.

Not that there's really much competition for that wonderful award. Up until a few months ago, my life consisted of drinking myself into a stupor - alone or with the bald bastard in the next office, getting my face ripped open, or just being a miserable fuck. Let's be honest here: a Turk ain't meant to have a happy or long life, but as far as histories go, I'd say my life story would score at least a 9.2 on the Crapometer. I still have trouble realising that it was the bastard who made my working life a living hell that turned it all around.

But I'm getting sappy here. The point is, when I signed up for this shit nobody mentioned that I'd have to write about the crap I did. I figured I had an easy ride up from the Slums. All I had to do was blow some stuff up, walk around like I owned the place, and get paid for it. This was not what I had in mind. Lying bastards.

The blank paper stared up at me, but I didn't see the paper. My head was half way across the Plate, in an apartment block. I was helping Tseng change the bedsheets, me grinning like a dick at the mess we'd made, while Tseng looked at me with pure goddamn amusement. We were sitting on the bed, me sprawled out shamelessly butt naked, while Tseng tried his hardest not to look, pretending to read a book instead...

Heh... I'll let you guess how that one ended.

The familiar, angry click of a door down the hall made me sit up like a lightning bolt. I know that sound too damn well, and you can bet your ass it don't mean anything good. I looked around, making sure that there was nothing painfully obvious to scold me for today, and rested my arms across the blank page in a pathetic attempt to hide the lack of work I'd been doing.

My door swung open. No fucking surprise. I looked up, trying to force an expression of innocence on my normally guilty-as-hell face. It had never worked, but hey, I could still try.

Tseng stepped in, back to his old, stick-up-the-ass self, hands folded behind his back as he glared around the room, looking for something to pick on. I tried to smile innocently. It made my face ache.

"What can I do ya for, Tseng?"

I stopped the grin threatening to spread across my face just in time. I guess I could have worded that better, but the look on his face was worth the risk. He glowered at me, eyes narrowed to slits, and I felt a swell of good old fashioned evil glee rising in my chest. Ok, I admit it: I kinda get off on the rush of pissing the guy off, but if it was a choice between possible decapitation and paperwork, hell, I'd choose decapitation any day.

"Your emails, Reno."

I blinked stupidly. What had I done now? I remembered trying to apply to Heidigger for maternity leave a couple of months back, but Tseng had already torn me a new one for that. My brain goes into automatic when I get accused of something. Generally, when someone accuses me of something I'm probably guilty, so before I knew what I was saying, My fat mouth opened and I heard my voice saying the words. Those fucking fatal words.

"I didn't do it!"

Wow. I mean really. After a whole damn life of lying, cheating and screwing around, you woulda thought I could come up with something better than that. It was about as believable as Scarlet's virginity.

Tseng just continued to glare at me like a dog that had taken a dump in his shoe. The corner of his eye twitched dangerously. I leaned further forwards, trying to hide my non-report better.

"Your emails," He snapped after a pause, "should be read at the beginning and end of every shift."

Wait... this is what he was nagging me about? I tried not to roll my eyes like a damn schoolkid and shrugged.

"Yeah yeah, I know the drill, Tseng. I read them already." Another big fat stinking lie, and a fucking bad one at that. You know, I used to think I was a pretty good gambler? Then I met this son of a bitch, and somehow he always wins.

"Really?" Came the reply, in that slow, dangerous tone. He quirked an eyebrow at me and smoothed the lapel of his jacket, cooly. "Then perhaps you can tell me why you're not currently downstairs in the boardroom?"

Crap. I tried to scratch around my imagination for an excuse that would work, while Tseng stood in the doorway calmly, with just the slightest hint of amusement behind the disapproving glare. Fuck, I swear Tseng just likes seeing me squirm, the twisted bastard. Maybe this was what passed as worktime entertainment in his sick little mind. Then again, that was pretty much what his idea of entertainment was outside of work, too.

"I..." Come on, Reno, think of something. My eyes landed on the blank paper in front of me. "I was uh, just getting some more of last night's report done." I stood up, grabbing my jacket and slinging it over my shoulder, careful to avoid letting Tseng get a glimpse of the blank paper. I smiled, in what I was hoping was a charming way, but was more than likely just another cheezy grin. "You know me, boss. Once I get into my work, I kinda lose track of time."

Why do I do this? You know, I sometimes wonder if I'm completely suicidal and I just don't know it yet. If I'd admitted to not reading my emails, I'd've probably just ended up with a slap on the hand and another boring-ass lecture. Instead I was steadily digging myself a huge fucking hole for Tseng to bury me in. I can't help it though: in-work Tseng makes me equal parts excited, and jumpy as hell.

I headed for the door, and Tseng turned to walk away. Just for a second - the tiniest goddamn fraction of a second, his smooth, warm hand brushed against mine. It was enough to make me lid my eyes a little, and memories of last night came flashing back into my head - like those flashing neon lights all over Honeybee - pretty damn difficult to ignore. Tseng cleared his throat as he strode towards the elevator. I wondered if the same thing was going through his irritating brain, too.

We stepped into the elevator together, and Tseng pressed the button to head downwards. The doors closed, and then? Silence.

I can't even tell you what my fucked up little mind was thinking, then. But then, it doesn't matter where the hell I am, my subconscious always finds a way of turning the scenario into a porno. I smirked to myself, leaning back against the railings. I could practically hear the cheesy, synthesised music starting up in the background; Me saying somethin' like 'oh no, the lift broke down'...

Tseng turned his head and looked me up and down with an air of irritation. "Button your shirt up correctly, Reno."

I blinked stupidly for a second, then stood up and fumbled under the creases in my shirt to find the buttons. Maybe the broken down lift wasn't such a good idea after all.

Finally the lift juddered and screeched to a halt. Instinctively we both fell into step, prowling out like a pair of badass, psychotic panthers. Just because I was a lazy, slovenly asshole up on floor 69 didn't mean I wasn't professional sometimes, and this was one of those times. I had no idea what the hell we were heading here for, but whatever was goin' on in the boardroom across the hall was probably important. Tseng's expression did a 180 degree flip. From looking at me like piece of crap back in the lift, there was something else in his dark, way-too-serious eyes that looked a hell of a lot like pride.

Professionalism - Tseng's version of Heroin.

Rude was waiting for us outside the doors like a good little lackey. He gave me a brief nod and a grunt, which I interpreted as 'Morning Reno, how are you?', and then fell into step with us as Tseng opened the door.

The sound of voices rose up as the huge wooden doors creaked open.

If it had been my first time in this room, it mighta been impressive, but I've seen the place so many damn times that I pretty much zone out. Bigass columns along the walls; a table so damn long and wide I sometimes wonder how the hell they got it up here, and my favourite part: A huge window at the far end, behind the seat at the head of the table showed almost the whole damn plate. If it weren't for the chimneys, neon lights, and pollution so thick you could swim in it, it probably coulda passed as beautiful. Believe me, that view had gotten me laid more times than my alcohol-damaged brain can remember. And the table? Well, let's just say I probably know every single inch of it by now. Shame Tseng never agreed to study it with me.

The sun was struggling through the window, past the smog and huge clouds of snot coloured pollution. The table was completely full. Oh great, this could only mean one damn thing: A full staff meeting.

The muttering stopped as we walked into the room and everyone turned to look, like one of Hojo's freaky, slime-covered experiments had just crawled in. Tseng ignored the reaction and walked straight towards the three empty chairs that had been left - way at the end of the table, as far away from everyone else as possible. Not that I expected any different. We're Turks: the black sheep; the scumbags. We're like that alcoholic uncle that never gets invited anywhere: Nobody comes near us or even fucking mentions us unless they need to.

"Tseng." said a voice, gruffly. "Take a seat."

President Shinra sat at the head of the table, his stomach bulging over the edge like some mutant jello pudding. Well, if I was hungry before, I sure as hell wasn't now. Tseng nodded professionally, then lowered himself formally into his chair.

Ugh. I was bored already. Why the hell did I have to come to this? They could at least make everyone where party hats or something, make it more interesting. Me and Rude sat down next to each other, and I felt him lean in to my ear.

"20 gil says Heidigger falls asleep before Scarlet this time." He grunted lowly. I smirked and lounged back in the chair.

"Make it 40 gil and you got yourself a bet."

Tseng cleared his throat loudly, and we both shut up.

It was then that I noticed something that made me feel like my stomach was full of ten ton bricks.

What I noticed was a white suit. A bright. Fucking. White. Suit.

Rufus Shinra. Fuck.

My fists clenched. The son of a bitch was sitting there, almost directly opposite, lounging backwards on his chair with that pretty-boy hair and those psycho blue eyes. And he was staring straight at me. I gritted my teeth, trying my damn hardest not to fuck up; to stand my ground and not just run the fuck out of there like a pansy. A shiver crept down my back.

Fuck, Reno. Don't let him know.

Three months ago, my life had pretty much hit the bottom of the shit pile. Every single one of my worst goddamn nightmares had come to life, all in the space of a week. If there's any kind of god up there, I must have fucked him off royally to deserve that shit.

The sick, psychotic son of a whore, sitting opposite me, staring at me with that disgusted, venomous look in his eyes, was where it all began. Believe me, I ain't got any intention of sharing that story again, it was bad enough it happened; but lets just say that by the time he was done with me I'd nearly been killed twice, and going anywhere near that office of his brought back memories that made me feel like I was gonna hurl my lunch all over the floor.

So, being stuck in here with the bastard? Not my idea of a fun ride. In fact, I'd rather have taken up the job of licking clean Heidigger's toilet than be sitting here right now. Hell, I'd even have offered to do Palmer's for free.

I felt Tseng move at the side of me. I felt a warm Wutaian hand brush past mine under the table. Whether by accident, or for some other reason, I really couldn't tell ya.

But it seemed to help. A little. At least, I didn't run screaming from the room, or make a kamikazee jump out of that window. The next hour passed with me doing my damndest to avoid any kind of eye contact with the piece of scum across the table. I could feel his fucking eyes on me, burning in to me, the same way they had that night in the hospital floor. What the hell else was I supposed to do? Look at him? Smile and wave? So maybe I am a chicken, but if you were in my position, what the hell would you have done?

Three months ago, Tseng had given me some advice - keep my head down, do my work, be a good little boy; In other words: don't give the bastard an excuse. It had pretty much worked, and passing him in the corridor was starting to bother me less and less every time. But being stuck here, with his eyes right on me? I felt pathetic.

I mean the guy was younger than me, and I know for a fact that if it ever came down to an even fight, I'd kick the piece of shit from here to Nibelheim without even breaking a sweat. The trouble was, he was Shinra's son. Daddy's little rich boy. He could snap his fucking fingers and send me right back to the gutter where I came from. There was only one thing stopping the bastard from doing it, and that thing was the stoic, work-obsessed Wutaian sitting next to me.

After an hour, Rude distracted me with more bad news. He let out a snort and nudged me in the ribs. I turned and glared, then saw he was grinning gormlessly at something further down the table.

Heidigger was sitting with his eyes closed, his head on his chest, and drool dangling from his beard, forming a congealed pool of phlegm on the table.

Nice. Ladies and gentlemen: Our boss. And he'd just cost me 40 gil.

Fuck it, there went my drinking money.

"I believe that will be all. I hope you all understand what it is I expect you to do."

Chairs screeched. Scarlet adjusted her cleavage and stood up. Palmer struggled to get his fat ass out of the chair, and Heidigger jumped awake with a yell, then tried to pretend he'd been awake the whole time, and started telling President Shinra how much he'd enjoyed it.

I, however, made a bee line for the door. Trying to get the hell out of there and back to my paperwork. Anything had to be more comfortable than what I'd experienced. Putting my dick in a blender would've been more comfortable. I didn't dare to look around, but if that prickling feeling was anything to go by, Rufus was watching me intently as I nudged my way through the door, across the hall, and into a lift. I didn't even wait for Tseng and Rude.

It was only when the doors closed that I finally screwed my eyes shut and punched the steel wall, about breaking my damn hand in the process.

After the best night of my life, why the hell did Rufus son-of-a-bastard have to fuck everything up? What the hell was I being punished for? Had I pushed old ladies off cliffs in a former life or something?

Rufus was a bottom-feeder. As a rich daddy's boy, he could've hired all the whores in honeybee (at least,, that's what I would have done), but he didn't want that. What did he want instead?

Me, that's fucking what. He liked force, pain, begging. He liked knowing he was in control. All I had to do was make one tiny slip - one sign of weakness to let him know he still had some power.

I checked my reflection in the glass window of the elevator. The whole of Midgar receded downwards as I headed up, the sound of the elevator humming in my ears.

I'd gone white. Uh... Whiter

Fuck. Guess I needed to work on my Poker face, huh?
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Taking Care of Business