Summary: Did Reno forget something, or is he taking casual Friday a bit too far? Except, this isn't a Friday, and Reno's gone way beyond casual here. Silly crack-fic, the title says it all, really.
I think this is the first time I've ever written Cissnei!
Disclaimer: Don't own FF, wish I did. This is written for fun and not profit.
Monday morning was traditionally Reno's least favorite day of the week. Especially if the Monday in question had followed a weekend of hard drinking and partying. It was not out of the ordinary, therefore, for Reno to show up to work on Mondays looking a bit tired and disheveled.
However, more often than not, Reno would at least be in uniform, no matter how rumpled it might appear - he would be wearing his suit. Rude and Cissnei were already sitting at their desks, sipping on their first cup of coffee when Reno showed up - late, as usual. This was not a surprise to any of the Turks, really.
Tseng's office door was open, and he didn't even glance up from the reports he was poring over when he heard the door open and shut, followed by a "Fucking Mondays, yo."
"Good morning, Reno," Cissnei said sweetly, booting up her Shinra laptop in order to download the roster of assignments from that day. Rude guzzled his coffee and got up to pour himself another when he stopped short, eyes traveling up and down the lanky frame of his partner, noting with mild alarm - and some amusement - that one major part of his Turk uniform was not there.
"Uh...Reno?" Rude muttered. "Feel like you're...missing something?"
"Hmm?" Reno murmured absently, bloodshot eyes blinking as they attempted to focus upon Rude. "Missing what?" The redhead grinned as he spied the familiar-looking bakery box on the nearby counter. "It's donut day, yeah!" Reno said gleefully as he grabbed an everything bagel out of the bag. "Oh, I love donut day," he said wistfully, biting into the pastry. "And I love bagel day too, but donut day fuckin' rules."
Rude and Cissnei both exchanged a glance, and Cissnei tittered awkwardly. "Reno...don't you feel a draft?" She ventured slowly with the question; granted, Reno wasn't fully awake until after his first six cups of coffee, but still, Cissnei thought that surely he must be aware of his lack of trousers.
"Huh? Nah, the weather's fine," Reno said absently, slurping his coffee, and making a face. "Not enough sugar." He grabbed three more packets and dumped them into his coffee, stirring it with his finger rather than taking two seconds to grab a plastic coffee stirrer from the box. "There. That's better," he declared, taking another sip. Reno tilted his head back, glugging the overly sweetened beverage until the mug was drained. He looked up to see his two co-workers still staring at him, blinking.
"What?" Reno said irritably. Really, he hadn't had quite enough coffee yet. And another donut couldn't hurt, he reasoned, reaching for a second one. "Why are you two staring at me? Do I have a booger on me?" Reno asked, running his hand underneath his nose to check.
Rude groaned, shaking his head, and Cissnei grimaced. "It's not that," Cissnei told him. "It's just - well, Reno...aren't you kind of underdressed?" she asked, pointing at his skinny, pale legs. He stood there in his rumpled, button-up shirt and black jacket, and black silk boxers with red hearts patterned all over them. On his feet were black socks and his usual mud-caked boots - Shinra standard-issue black lace-ups.
"Nice underwear," Rude murmured. "I suppose we should be grateful you're wearing any at all."
"Tch," Reno muttered, glaring at Rude. "That ain't fair. I only go commando on the weekends, you know. Or if I'm on a hot date," he added, grinning stupidly. "So...by the way, has anyone seen my pants?" Rude and Cissnei collectively groaned, and exchanged yet another hopeless look, as if to say what are we going to do with him?
At that precise moment, Tseng's head poked out of his office. He regarded Reno with his usual mixture of mild amusement and infinite patience, as one would have when dealing with a small child. "Ah, Reno, good morning," Tseng said quietly. "You are out of uniform, but I'm sure you're aware of that."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, sir," Rude muttered, touching his fingers to his temple, massaging the little flicker of pain that was starting there. Why does everything have to be so difficult with Reno? Something as simple as his pants, and he can't find them...gods help me.
"Yeah, about that," Reno replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Has anyone seen 'em? Because I can't find them."
Tseng lofted an eyebrow and bit his lip to keep from smirking. "Is that so? Reno...surely you must have more than one uniform? Or another pair of pants you could have worn?"
"Nope," Reno replied firmly, shaking his head. "I'm down to one uniform, sir. All the others got wrecked in the field. And, I didn't want to just show up in jeans. I know Rufus has a rule against employees wearing jeans on the job, yo."
"I do believe wearing jeans would be preferable to wearing no pants at all," Tseng replied evenly, rolling his eyes a bit. Reno can be so damned literal sometimes. And obtuse, he thought, shaking his head. "However, we do have some SOLDIER-issue sweat pants available for you to use in the interim, until such time as you locate your uniform pants, or order another pair for you. Unfortunately, they are custom tailored, so it's not like we have extra Turk uniforms just lying around," Tseng added in abmonishment, his stern tone completely lost upon Reno, who found the whole situation rather amusing. "Next time you find yourself short on uniform clothing...do keep me informed. I will have to requisition a new suit for you, and it will take a few days to get here from the tailor in Wutai. For now, you will have to settle for some of the surplus SOLDIER gym pants."
"Cool. I been wantin' to get into some SOLDIER's pants anyway," Reno said, then guffawed at his own stupid joke. "One SOLDIER in particular, actually." Rude choked on his last bite of honey-glazed donut.
"Reno! Too. Much. Information," Cissnei told him, rolling her eyes. The junior Turk was rather tired of hearing all about Reno's personal life. "Gods! Don't you have a filter?" The inquiry was met with a cheese-eating grin from Reno.
"I smoke filtered cigarettes, but I bet that ain't what you're asking, is it Cissy?" Reno drawled, chuckling.
Tseng gave a beleaguered-sounding sigh, and headed back into his office. "I have work to do," the Director said brusquely. "As do the rest of you. Cissnei - you will be patrolling Sector Eight today. And Reno - head down to the SOLDIER training area, and ask Lazard for some pants. Rude, you go with Reno as well - there is some intel that Lazard has uncovered regarding the terrorist group AVALANCHE - and he can bring you both up to speed on the subject."
Reno sniggered, finishing up his coffee. "All right, boss. Hey, sorry about the snafu, here. I seriously don't know where the hell my pants ended up over the weekend," he added, brows knitting into a puzzled frown.
"I have ceased to care about the welfare of your pants, Reno," Tseng replied. "Everyone, please go over your assignment rosters, head to weapons to gear up, then report back to me in within the hour. Reno, I expect you to be fully clothed at that time." With that, the Director turned on his heel and slammed his office door without another word.
"Now you've gone and done it, you idiot," Cissnei hissed, swatting Reno in the chest. "Now you've pissed off Tseng!"
"Ow! Cissy, quit it. Don't hit me," Reno protested, rubbing his chest. "And don't worry about it. I piss him off on a daily basis."
"Yeah, but you seem to go out of your way to annoy him, Reno," Cissnei pointed out, feeling somewhat indignant. "It isn't right." Cissnei had the utmost respect for her superiors, particularly Tseng, and Reno was really starting to irk her with his lack of respect. The Turks were her family, all she had, really, and Cissnei took her role as junior Turk very seriously. Sometimes Reno's inability to take anything seriously, really irritated her.
"Sometimes...you don't know when to quit, Reno," Rude finally offered his opinion, cracking his knuckles within his tight, black leather gloves. Reno just grinned at him.
"So...partner, want to take a walk with me?" Reno asked Rude, ignoring the dagger-like glares from Cissnei as she turned her attention back to her laptop screen. "Down to see Lazzy-baby?"
"Don't call Director Lazard that again. He didn't like it the last time you did that," Rude said gruffly, inwardly sighing. "You know, Reno...oh, forget it. Come on, let's get this over with. I don't know why you can't just go down there by yourself." Rude shook his head, grumbling. "Why does Tseng send me on these errands?" Rude wondered out loud. "Does he hate me?"
"Hey, I might need your protection, Rude," Reno said, still grinning. "Might have to have you fight off my fan club, if any of them see me in my skivvies like this."
"You don't have a fan club," Rude replied stonily. "Genesis has a fan club...SOLDIERS get fan clubs, Turks do not get fan clubs."
"I do so have a fan club," Reno insisted stubbornly. The two men got into the glass elevators, Reno's silk boxers billowing from the slight breeze that blew as the doors shut. "I've seen 'em, staring at me at Seventh Heaven. Like they wanna rip my clothes off or something."
Rude lofted a dubious eyebrow at the claim. "Who are these 'fans' of yours? And how many of them are there?"
Reno snickered as the elevator reached the 49th floor - the SOLDIER floor - as he disembarked. "You were there, Rude! Don't tell me you don't remember. Those two babes from Kalm, and they were practically in our laps, yo."
Rude made a face as they reached the door of Lazard's office. "Two drunk women does not constitute a fan club. Also, they kept getting our names mixed up. It was rather annoying."
"Yeah, about that...hey, Rude, you ever think we should make up aliases, for when we're trying to pick up someone?" Reno asked his partner, the question utterly sincere despite its ridiculousness.
"NO," Rude responded very firmly, giving Lazard a bit of a start as he looked up from his paperwork.
"Reno...Rude. Can I help you with something?" Lazard asked, eyes drifting over Reno's bare legs, not even wanting to ask the obvious question of why Reno wasn't wearing any pants.
Rude cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, sir...Tseng sent us down here," he said awkwardly. "Regarding the intel on AVALANCHE?"
"And some SOLDIER gym pants," Reno piped up. "My uniform pants are missing, and Tseng said it'll take a while to get some new ones in."
Lazard gave Reno a very careful look, then calmly got up from his chair, opening a drawer behind him. He withdrew a pair of gunmetal gray sweats, emblazoned with the SOLDIER logo, encased in plastic sheeting. "Here you are, Reno," Lazard replied, handing over the pants. "What happened? Did your trousers get damaged during a mission?" he asked, already dreading the answer. Lazard knew how Reno was - unconventional, but the man was good at his job at the end of the day. He supposed that was the only reason why Tseng kept this annoying creature on Shinra's payroll.
"Naw, and it's the weirdest thing!" Reno exclaimed, already kicking off his boots as he tore into the plastic-wrapped sweats, pulling them on quickly. They of course looked utterly ridiculous paired with his black suit jacket, but the fashion faux pas didn't seem to bother Reno terribly as he tugged his black boots back on. "I have no idea where I left my pants. In fact, I remember taking them off when I got home Friday night - ya know, when I get home after a day in the field, the pants are the first thing to come off when I get home!" Reno chattered on merrily like some sort of insane magpie, oblivious to the fact that Rude's and Lazard's eyes were starting to glaze over. "Then, today I overslept, Mondays, right? And I was already runnin' late, Tseng hates when I'm late, I couldn't find any pants and I was half dressed at least, which I figure is better than nothing. So I said to myself, man, you better just get your ass into work, pronto, pants or no pants!"
"You're very dedicated, Reno," Lazard said dryly, coughing as he tried to hide the fact that he was about to laugh. "So...you spent your entire weekend without any pants, hmm?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Well, you guys know how it is though, right?" Reno drawled, grinning. "When your pants are off, you feel free, more relaxed - and once the pants are off, that is it, yo. I usually stay in for the night after the pants come off. Hey...maybe there's a pants bandit around here, at Shinra. I never thought of that! " Rude couldn't hold back an exasperated sigh which went unnoticed by Reno, though Lazard heard it, and gave Rude a sympathetic look.
"Anyway, thanks for the loaner pants, Lazard," Reno said, truly grateful. "Hey, if my other pants ever turn up, I'll bring 'em back."
Lazard's lips curled up into a slight smile. "...You can keep those, Reno, it's fine. Really, it's fine."
A/N: Just a silly Reno crackfic. The idea behind the story is two-fold. I have a friend, JR, who would often meet up with us for a drink after work at the neighborhood pub. His catch-phrase - instead of saying 'hello' like a normal person, is to announce loudly in the bar, "HAS ANYONE SEEN MY PANTS?" Of course he would be wearing his pants (thank God), but usually a few people there would do a double take. Just to make sure that he was wearing them, I guess.
Second bit involves another friend, T. Anytime we'd call him up to go out for dinner or drinks after work, his reply would be contingent upon whether or not he'd taken off his pants after work. Because it all ends after he takes off his pants and gets all cozy. So the conversation would be something like this:
Me: Hey, T, you want to meet us at the pub? It's 10 cent wing night!
T: Nah, thanks. The pants are off, so I'm gonna stay home and watch something on Netflix.
I am pretty sure he just got into sweats or whatever to relax after , but Reno...yeah, I figure Reno would just sit around in his undies and let it all hang out, for the entire weekend. Hope you enjoyed! :)