Summary: Vincent and Rude find themselves working on a mission together. They discover they might have more in common than they might have initially thought, much to their surprise. This may end up being a few chapters in length, but probably no more than five.
Disclaimer: I don't own FF, and if I did...Advent Children would have a rating of NC-17. XD
This is written for fun, not profit.
Rude could not help but be awed the first time he worked alongside Vincent Valentine. The man was a legend, after all, and a former Turk to boot. In Rude's typically quiet demeanor, however, he didn't gush over the man; merely sat back and took it all in. Rude hoped he wasn't gaping stupidly at Valentine, but he definitely admired him - quietly, and from afar. Rude's much more outspoken partner, however, made his hero-worship all too obvious.
Reno absolutely hounded Vincent, peppering him with questions about what it was like "being a Turk way back in the day." Way to go, Reno…way to remind Valentine he lost nearly thirty years of his life, while he was in that coffin, Rude thought, with a bit of disdain toward his partner's thoughtlessness – and a bit of empathy toward Vincent. It was easy to forget, though, that Vincent was technically thirty years older than his chronological age. The man appeared ageless; his skin, as yet unmarred by wrinkles; and his hair was ink-black silk, devoid of any white strands. Like a prehistoric insect, suspended in amber, Rude mused thoughtfully as he studied Vincent one day. Frozen in time.
Surprisingly, Valentine took it all in stride; seemed a bit amused by the whole thing, really. Vincent was now - to use his own term - 'freelancing.' The legendary gunner was working in tandem with the Turks and some former members of AVALANCHE, on certain missions where Tseng had determined a bit more 'muscle' was needed. During the first such mission, Rude was quietly impressed with the former Turk's clean precision, in dispatching the enemy. Rude's usual weapon of choice was his own fists; however, after seeing the firepower of Cerberus, he had to admit that Vincent had something impressive there.
Rude also knew, as did most everyone who knew Vincent, that when he was pushed – Vincent had some secret weapons of his own. Sometimes, he could not quite control these inner demons, these monsters, when his limits had been pushed just a bit too far.
It was after the sixth such mission with Vincent, that an unspoken rapport and camaraderie had developed between the elusive former Turk and Rude. Vincent grew to like the taciturn Turk; he'd honestly become a bit annoyed with Reno's constant babbling, and wondered how Rude put up with being partnered with the loudmouthed redhead for so long. Perhaps that's why Rude is a man of so few words, Vincent thought wryly. He simply can't get a word in edgewise, not with Reno around. Rude and Vincent soon took up the habit of hitting the local pub together upon completion of a mission; the Turk learned that Vincent was a bit of a wine snob, and Vincent learned that Rude was a beer snob. The two would share a quiet meal with each other on such occasions, and after a few microbrews, Vincent noted with some amusement that this was the key to getting Rude to talk more; several really good beers with a high alcohol content, that is.
It was the first real friendship Rude had, outside of the Turks. And it was different from his rapport with his partner Reno, although Rude wasn't quite sure exactly why. He only knew that his heart felt lighter any time he learned that Vincent would be joining them on a mission. Am I...attracted to Vincent?Rude puzzled over the possibility, but quickly dismissed it in his head. There was no denying that Vincent was attractive, certainly; Rude figured that anyone who wasn't blind could see that. Objectively, of course.
Then came the dreams, in which Rude would awaken in the middle of the night; his sheets soaked with sweat, wrapped in and around his legs, as he clutched his pillow to his chest for dear life, blood pounding in his ears as he woke. One name was on his mind upon waking from these torrid dreams: Vincent. Initially, it troubled Rude, that he seemed to harbor these unexpected, lustful feelings for Vincent; after a while, though, he simply dismissed it as his subconscious playing tricks on him. After all, everyone has the occasional inappropriate dreams about co-workers or other acquaintances, Rude told himself. Except...I've never had dreams like this about Reno or Tseng. And I'm having these dreams night after night...Eventually, as with other things, Rude simply pushed these thoughts aside, believing nothing would come of them.
For the next mission, the Turks were being dispatched to Nibelheim. It was now a ghost town, more or less. Rufus wanted the Turks to investigate the area, and the mission was really just a basic site survey. Cloud and Vincent had been nabbed for this particular mission, given their familiarity with the area. It was, of course Cloud's hometown; and Vincent had been an inhabitant of the nearby Shinra mansion for many years. Years which were spent in self-exile, sleeping in a coffin for over twenty years, as if in a time capsule. He spent over twenty years like that, undisturbed…until that fateful day years ago, when Cloud came along, and somehow convinced the man to join their party.
So many things have changed since then, Vincent reflected, as he gazed out the window of the Shinra chopper. Imagine…some of us working with the Turks now, for one thing.
As if reading his mind, Rude, seated in front of Vincent, glanced back and murmured, "Funny…last time Reno and I were here…well, things were a lot different, weren't they."
"Yeah," Reno agreed, banking the helicopter as he prepared to land it near Nibelheim. "Back then…well, let's just say the cover-up was one of Shinra's biggest failings," he remarked bitterly. "I know, I don't speak out against the company too much, but that…that was just unforgivable."
"I'm inclined to agree," Cloud said dryly. "You know…my head was messed up enough after Hojo's experiments…then, when Zack died…but when I went back to Nibelheim that time, and everyone acted like nothing had happened? I snapped."
"Understandable," Vincent murmured. "The Shinra cover-up in Nibelheim…it was indeed despicable. I'm a bit amazed that we're working with Shinra now, actually."
"Rufus had nothing to do with that cover-up," Reno retorted, perhaps a bit too defensively. "It was during his father's administration. Still…the president realizes that he needs to make reparations…"
"That's the understatement of the century," Vincent murmured dryly. Rude turned around and glanced at Vincent again – and smirked. The corners of Vincent's lips threatened a smile, as he exchanged a glance –or, he thought he did…hard to tell with those ever-present sunglasses he was always wearing. Vincent leaned back in his seat, and returned to looking out the window as Reno landed. Ghosts, he pondered. So many of them here…have I finally put them all to rest?
The mission itself was simple; fly out to Nibelheim, investigate the now-abandoned village. Ever since the Shinra cover-up had been exposed for what it was – and the 'plants' that lived there, posing as villagers who claimed to be ignorant of Sephiroth's razing of the town – most of Nibelheim's inhabitants had moved on. They'd either died out, or - ashamed of their own involvement in the cover-up – had moved far, far away from the mountain village.
Vincent wouldn't admit it out loud, but he worried about how Cloud would react, upon returning to Nibelheim. He knew the planet's hero was stronger now, both physically and mentally, than he had been so many years ago when his mind splintered. Still, the former Turk knew how painfully difficult it was to confront one's ghosts, and wondered how well Cloud would fare in doing so. Vincent was not particularly looking forward to confronting his own, but knew it would probably be done at some point on this mission – whether he liked it or not.
About the third day in, the group had ascertained that Nibelheim truly was deserted. "Just like Modeoheim," Rude observed. They were gathered in what had been the center of town, near the giant water tower that had once served as the hub of this small mountain village. Now it stood dusty and deserted in the middle of the town square, like some sort of lifeless monolith.
"Yeah, how about that?" Reno remarked, his EMR slung over his shoulder. He noticed Cloud staring quietly into the distance, his gaze focused on Mt. Nibel. Reno moved over next to Cloud, and nudged him gently. "You okay, man?" the Turk asked, his voice tinged with a bit of concern.
Cloud sighed and nodded, glancing over at Reno. "Yeah," he replied. "I won't say I'm fine…because I'm not. But I guess it's been good in a way, coming back here," Cloud said as he panned around the center of town, taking it all in. "I think…I can safely say that I've put all my ghosts to rest now."
"Well, that's good, yo," Reno replied, clapping a hand comfortingly on Cloud's shoulder. "I think we can also safely say that this town is dead. Nothing's doing here, and hasn't been for some time, from the looks of it." Reno frowned as he glanced around, and locked eyes with his partner. "Hey…uh, Rude? You seen Valentine? He was just here a minute ago, wasn't he?"
Rude frowned as well, behind his dark glasses. "He was just here," the bald Turk murmured, perplexed. Vincent just has this way of…disappearing, he recalled. And then reappearing, when you least expected it. "You know," Rude continued, suddenly remembering. "I think I did see Vincent walking in that direction. I thought he had just been pacing, but…maybe he did go up there. It's possible."
Reno muttered irritably. "Well, I really wanted to dust off soon, guys," he said. "Seeing as this area is secure…vacant, more like. I want to head back to headquarters soon, and get some damned sleep, yo. Cloud…any idea where Vincent could have gone? You know, if he had a damned cell phone, I could track him down, but oh no…" The redheaded Turk kept babbling, not even giving Cloud a chance to answer.
"Reno, I know," Cloud replied shortly, as soon as he could break into the redhead's seemingly one-sided conversation. "If I had to guess…Rude's probably right, I bet Vincent went back to the Shinra mansion," he concluded, nodding his head toward the ominous looking grand house in the distance.
Groaning, Reno kicked a rock on the dusty ground, and sighed. "Well, this is damned inconvenient. Trying to track down the most elusive dude ever, who- oh by the way - does not have a cell phone. The hell!" he muttered angrily.
"I'd rather not go to Shinra mansion again if I can help it," Cloud muttered dryly. "You know, considering…" He left the sentence unfinished; everyone present knew exactly what Cloud and Zack had been subjected to in the basement of the Shinra mansion, at the hands of Hojo.
But so was Vincent, Rude mused. Why on Gaia – if he even had gone back to the mansion – would Vincent want to return there? Rude suddenly realized, that was the difference between Vincent and pretty much anyone else he'd ever met. The man feared nothing.
"I'll go," Rude quietly volunteered. Both Reno and Cloud raised an eyebrow at this, and exchanged a glance. "I'll go," he repeated, adjusting his sunglasses. "You guys search around town, and I'll check out the mansion."
"Okay…partner," Reno drawled, shrugging his shoulders. "Suit yourself. You're armed, right? I know the mansion checked out okay earlier, but just in case…"
"Yeah, I'm packing," Rude muttered, patting his gun holster as if to confirm its presence. "Got an extra clip, too, no worries."
"Good," Reno replied. "Keep your cell phone on; Cloud and I will split up down here and check out all the buildings. I think you might be right, though, Rude…Valentine's probably back at the mansion."
Rude nodded in acknowledgement before turning to leave. A thought suddenly occurred to him as he walked northward through Nibelheim, back toward the Shinra mansion: What if Vincent…doesn't want to be found? He frowned, but quickly put the thought out his head as he trudged up the stone stairway leading out of town; the Shinra mansion loomed before him. The Turk entered through the creaking gate, long rusted and sagging because of non-use and disrepair. He readjusted his sunglasses as he trudged up the dusty, worn path leading up to the once-grand front steps, suddenly unsure if he should be hunting for Vincent Valentine in the first place; the man was notoriously secretive and elusive as it was.
Ignoring all these nagging thoughts, Rude opened the heavy, oak doors that graced the entrance of the Shinra mansion and proceeded inside, one hand on the grip of his duty revolver.
It had been quite a long time, Vincent noted, his gauntleted hand sweeping away a swath of cobwebs that fell in front of his face from the ceiling. How many years...since I've been down here, he wondered. Every now and then, Vincent would lament the years he'd lost, self-exiled in solitude in his coffin. He was in the hidden basement of the mansion, standing over the mahogany wood box that had once served as his chamber...his prison. A prison of my own making, but a prison nonetheless,he mused. He ran his leather-gloved hand along the tarnished dark wood of the coffin, now covered with a thick layer of dust. Vincent then removed his glove and ran a bared finger through the dust, making a trail.
He sighed, then suddenly stiffened; someone was approaching, the sound came from the corridor behind him. Vincent pressed himself against the wall next to his coffin, awaiting his intruder. Footsteps approached; quiet, even footsteps. This intruder, whoever he or she was, knew how to approach in a stealthy fashion. But, so did Vincent; and, thanks to Gaia knows whatever monsters Hojo had implanted in him so many years ago, the former Turk had extra keen hearing. Not even a mouse could pass by and be undetected by Vincent Valentine. His hand moved back to his hip holster, and he rested his fingers on the grip of of Cerberus, cocking back the hammer.
The moment Vincent saw the first hint of a shadow crossing the doorway, he reacted, drawing Cerberus out of his holster and leveling it into the shadowed face of the intruder. He readied himself to fire, his index finger about to press the trigger, when suddenly...
"Vincent!" shouted a familiar sounding voice. Rude...dear gods, I almost shot Rude...in the face... Vincent's heart was pounding so hard, he could feel it in his brain. "Rude!" Vincent yelled, taken aback once recognition sunk in. "Dear Gaia...I nearly shot you!"
"Stand down, it's me!" Rude stepped out of the shadows, his arm bearing a revolver which was aimed at Vincent. He quickly lowered the weapon, and exhaled a sigh of relief. "Sorry," Rude muttered apologetically. "I didn't mean to...startle you, Vincent. I only came here looking for you, because Reno wants to take off soon. And, I was...worried about you. You okay?"
"You were worried about me?" Vincent replied in amazement. He sat down upon the closed lid of his coffin, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. I nearly shot you in the face, yet you express concern for me...why?"
"Well...I, uh," Rude stammered uncomfortably. I care about your well-being? I find you...attractive? What the hell should I say?
He coughed politely before continuing. "Well," Rude said, gesturing toward the coffin that Vincent was now sitting upon. "I...thought you might be down here."
"You didn't answer my question," Vincent replied, gazing curiously at Rude. Yes, Rude and I have become friends...but I cannot figure out why he came all the way down here looking for me.
"You don't have a cell phone," Rude commented, still avoiding directly answering Vincent's question. "That makes it a bit harder to track you down, you know," he said with a wry smirk.
"So you came all the way down here, nearly get your face shot off by me, simply because I don't have a cell phone?" Vincent remarked, his voice tinged with amusement. "Is there anything else?"
Fuck it. Just say it. "I...care about you, Vincent," Rude murmured, suddenly grateful for the dark glasses that shaded his eyes, and hid his true emotions. There. I said it.
Much to Rude's surprise, Vincent did not appear entirely shocked by this admission. "Sit with me, Rude," he said simply, patting a spot next to him on the coffin. Rude raised an eyebrow in surprise, but said nothing; he did as requested, and sat next to Vincent on the coffin.
"Don't worry, I've wiped the dust off of the lid," Vincent told Rude with a hint of a smile. "I wouldn't want you to dirty your suit."
"My suits have seen a lot worse than a bit of dust," Rude commented, smirking.
"I'm so sorry, Rude," Vincent said seriously, turning slightly toward Rude. "You know, for nearly shooting your face off just now."
Rude shrugged indifferently. "No need to apologize," he said. "You were just reacting, you didn't know who I was. Of course, if you had a cell phone...we could have avoided that," Rude said teasingly.
"Yes, I know," Vincent said airily, waving his hand dismissively. "If I had a cell phone, Yuffie would be hounding me, and I cannot have that,now can I?"
Rude laughed out loud at this. "No, I suppose not," he replied, chuckling. The Turk wiped his gloved hands on his pants, as he began to stand up. "Well, I suppose we'd better get going...Reno and I are expected back at headquarters soon..."
"Not yet," Vincent said quietly, pressing the cold metal of his gauntleted hand into Rude's thigh, urging him to sit back down. "Not...just yet." Vincent ran his ungloved hand along Rude's jawbone, forcing the man to look at him. "Take them off, please," he whispered, a finger touching the temple bar of Rude's sunglasses. Without another word, Rude obeyed, and removed the sunglasses.
"I've never seen you without them, and I was...curious," Vincent murmured. He cupped Rude's chin, and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Rude melted into the tender embrace; he felt as if he were on fire, though Vincent's touch was cold. Ironic, that... Feeling suddenly emboldened, Rude removed one of his gloves, and reached out, running his fingers through Vincent's hair. "Mmm," Rude murmured appreciatively. "I've been curious too, Vincent...well, about a lot of things," he said frankly.
"I've not done that in nearly thirty years, you know," Vincent observed, leaning into Rude's warmth. "Kissed someone, I mean." The Turk placed his well-muscled arms around Vincent, embracing him. He drew him in tightly, burying his face in Vincent's neck, kissing him, and sniffing his raven hair.
"Well...how was it, then?" Rude asked teasingly, a smile working the corners of his mouth.
"It was rather nice, and I should like to do it again. Repeatedly," Vincent replied, gazing steadily at Rude. "I should be the one asking how it was for you...clearly, I've been out of practice for a long time..."
Rude shook his head and kissed Vincent again. "I have no complaints," he said, with a sly smile. "None whatsoever..." They went back to kissing, gently and tenderly at first, but the passion began to increase, as hands wandered and began groping at each other.
"Rude?" Vincent paused briefly, breaking their kiss to come up for air. "Aren't Reno and Cloud waiting on us?"
"Yeah, they are," Rude said indifferently, smirking a bit as he turned his attentions back to Vincent. "They can wait a bit longer," he murmured, pulling Vincent into his lap as they continued kissing - unable, and unwilling to stop for anything.