Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Note - I realised I uploaded chapter 10 but not chapter 9. All sorted out. Sorry 'bout that.

Chapter 9
Back in my office, the first damn thing I did was light up a cigarette and reach to the underside of my desk. I might be stupid at the best of times, but occasionally I can be such a sly son of a bitch that I surprise even myself. I felt the bulge of the canteen stuck to the underside of the desk and ripped it off, electrical tape and all. I needed some damn fresh air, and something to calm my nerves. I took a deep gulp from the canteen and felt that old familiar burning in my throat. I sighed and closed my eyes. I thought I was over this shit, but then being used like a disposable sex toy wasn't something too easily forgotten.
Before I knew it, half the damn canteen had gone. I swore under my breath and stubbed my cigarette out on the desk absently, once again staring down at that blank piece of paper only this time it wasn't last night going through my head.
Fuck this, I needed to take my mind of it. I could always go see Tseng? But knowing him he'd probably take the opportunity to tie me to the chair and give me a lecture. I could nurse my pride by heading down to the canteen and flirting with the waitresses, but I really wasn't in the mood. There was only one thing for it.
I sighed forcefully, stuck the canteen back in it's totally ingenious hiding spot and dumped my jacket back on, swaying just a little. Pulling a 50 gil note out of my pocket, I decided I'd better settle up my bet with the walking bowling-ball next door. If I didn't pay up, he'd probably break my fingers, and I kinda like my fingers the way they are.

***
"There." I slammed the note down on Rude's desk a little too forcefully. He just stared at me, that stupid, blank look, made even more stupid by the sunglasses permanently glued to his face. "And you better get me a fucking drink outta that tonight, you robbing son of a bitch."

Rude grunted in that non-commital way and slid his hand across the desk, taking the note and sliding it into his pocket, staring at me as if daring me to try snatching it back. I stood there and raised an eyebrow expectantly. After a second he smirked evilly.
"Got no change."
"Bullshit."
"Prove it."
"Fuck you."
Rude snorted in what passed for a laugh, but what really sounded more like a pig having an epileptic fit. I hitched myself up onto the desk, shoving his half-written report to make space.
"So the boss didn't kill you?"
Huh? I blinked for a second, confused. What the hell was he talking about now?
"Last night. You fucked up."
Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me of that little screw up Rude. What are friends for?
"Guess he's thinkin' how to kill me and make it look like an accident." I lied. Well what was I supposed to say? Tell him Tseng tied me to a bed and had his wicked way with me? Fuck no. Rude was about as straight as you could get in a crooked town like this, and he was the only friend I really had up here. As much as I hate to admit it, I couldn't afford to lose the bald, stupid son of a bitch. Besides, even if he didn't care if I was banging the boss, I couldn't trust him to keep his fat mouth shut.
"Maybe you should do what you're told."
"Yeah? Well maybe you should buy a toupee."
I jumped off the desk just in time to avoid having my kneecap smashed by a fist the size of a brick. I grinned - a real grin this time. Trading insults with Rude is in my 'Top 10 ways to not go batshit insane during work hours' list, and it was really taking my mind of the shit this morning. It's also what passes for affection in our fucked up little friendship.
Yeah, other people say it with flowers; me and Rude like to say it with abuse.
Rude made to get up out of his chair for a second, but then thought better of it. I just smirked, knowing exactly what he was thinking. I might not be as strong as that asshole, but when I wanted to be, I was fast as a rat out of a damn sewer.
"Get your pasty ass back here."
"Hey, get your mind off my ass, Rude. I ain't into that." Well, not with him anyway. That idea was enough to land me in a rubber room.
He snorted in revulsion and grabbed his paperwork from across the desk, turning to it with that look of concentration that put me in mind of a constipated bulldog. I took that as an end to the hostilities, and suddenly feeling way better, I made for the door.
"You gonna be at the bar, tonight?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. He grunted in assent.
"Not carrying you home again, though."
I didn't reply to that. He said that every damn time we went out, and he never followed through. The great thing about Rude was that although he could crush your damn skull with one hand, at heart he was a soft bastard. I'd gotten so drunk that I couldn't remember my own name. Once I'd even proposed to a fucking lamp post, and not once had he left me in the street, in a pool of my own vomit.
Now that's real friendship.
I closed the door behind me and slunk down the hallway towards the coffee machine, pretty much back to my old self again, and decided that it would probably be a good idea to grab a coffee and get what was left of the whiskey outta my system. The last thing I needed was Tseng smelling booze on my breath. As I stood there, waiting for the coffee machine to decide it wanted to work, I realised that Tseng's office door was ajar. I frowned.
Even on the hottest days of the Summer (and thanks to the permanent clouds of pollution, Midgar was like an oven on full blast) Tseng was such a secretive bastard that he'd rather roast like a chicken than let his door stay open. This couldn't be good.
I dared to peer through the door. The room was empty, the only thing I could hear was the coffee machine beside me making painful screeches as it tried to remember what its job was. I'd never seen that office without Tseng in it, it was like seeing Rocket Town without the rocket, or Palmer without a cream cake in his fat mouth. It seemed... wrong. Forgetting the coffee completely, I pulled open the door and walked in, peering in the corners as if expecting Tseng to jump out and eat me whole.
Tseng's office was just the way you'd expect it to be: Ordered. Piles of paperwork sat on his desk, perfectly aligned as though he'd taken a damn tape measure and set square to them. A pen holder sat in pride of place at the front of the desk with some expensive looking silver pens sitting in it, and right at the front, aligned perfectly with the edge of the desk, sat a plaque.
'Tseng R., Head of Turks: Special Operations.'
There was something out of place, though: one file was sitting on the desk out of place, like he'd been reading it before he'd left. And, being the nosy son of a bitch that I am, I opened it.
The picture of a girl stared up at me. She looked about 16, with long brown hair tied up with a pink ribbon. She was staring into the camera with a huge smile on her face, and just underneath were just two lines, written in Tseng's way-too-perfect handwriting.
'A. Gainsboro. Highest priority. Regular surveilance imperative.

Report to: Hojo'
I looked again at the picture, and felt a dim kind of sympathy for the poor kid. Whoever she was, if Hojo was interested in her, she was in really deep shit.
"Can I help you, Reno?"
Holy shit, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I spun round on the spot, a guilty look on my face. The file slipped off the table and fell to the floor.
Tseng was standing in the doorway, his arms folded in impatience and a frown of disapproval on his face. I scratched the back of my neck.
"H-hey boss. You left your door open, and I uh -"
"So I see." He butted in, looking at the room, as if expecting to see something missing. "Is there a reason why you're in my office? Were you expecting to find me hiding in the filing cabinet? As flattering as that is, I doubt I would be able to fit."
Not for the first time with Tseng, I had no idea what the hell to say. Was that Tseng's attempt at humour? To give myself a little thinking time, I stooped down to pick up the file, then handed it to him. He strode over to the filing cabinet and placed it inside. "I was wondering if you were here to hand in your report? You seemed so eager to finish it this morning."
Ah hell, I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass. Lets try to change the subject.
"I... just wanted to ask if you'd got any leads on those douchebags that jumped us last night."
Good one, Reno. Maybe you ain't such a shitty liar after all.
Tseng sat himself in his chair and sighed, leaning forwards and rubbing his temples. Almost instinctively I shut the door and sat myself down in one of the chairs opposite the desk.
"No." He admitted quietly. Something in his voice sounded different, almost like we weren't at work at all. Not wanting to get shut out, I stayed silent (for a change) and listened. "I've just been to see Heidigger about it. It's obvious enough that the attack was planned, and it wasn't just a half-baked idea like something you or Rude would come up with." I nearly opened my mouth to object, but thought twice about it. "There have been rumours of an Anti-Shinra terrorist group for some time, but recently you may have noticed we've had more... business than usual. I'd like to take an educated guess and say the reason for it is those men we met last night."
There was a silence, and Tseng looked up at me with those dark obsideon eyes, a severe expression on his face.
"You think they'll try that crap again?"
"I think that I won't be sending you or Rude out solo for a while." He looked at me hard. "And you, for a change, should be careful. Those men wanted us out of the way for a reason."
I got up. I know Tseng pretty damn well by now, and I knew when the end of a conversation had arrived. He picked up his pen and started writing on a fresh sheet of paper. Making for the door, something started gnawing at my slow-moving brain, like I had a rat scurrying around inside my head.
"What the hell are they after us for, anyway?"
Tseng put his pen down slowly for a second, glancing upwards.
"That," he growled dangerously, "is precisely what I intend to find out."
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Taking Care of Business