A/N: Written for the FFVII Rare Pair Week 2019, Day 5: Emotions

Silver Lining

Elena pants through tightly clamped teeth, her face screwed up in concentration. One wrong move will turn her careful and controlled descent into a crash-landing.

"Careful now," Reno warns. "This is the hardest part."

"I know that, all right?" she growls. Cold sweat beads along her hairline; her muscles, already weary, are beginning to tremble. The last thing she needs is some smug, scraggly chowderhead pointing out the obvious.

An unexpected pang in her lower back wrecks her focus. Elena's legs fail her and with a yelp, she collapses into the couch.

"Told ya. Sitting down is the worst part, yo."

At the hospital, Elena had thought that the doctor poking her back had been the worst part. She had thought that it would be over as soon as the doctor cast the Cure, and had been relieved when the woman declared her fit to rest up at home.

Now, Elena has second thoughts. Lots of them.

"I think she missed a spot," she whines. "When she Cured me."

"It's just muscle pain. You oughta be fine by morning. 'Til then…" Reno plops down beside her and drapes his arms along the back of the couch. "…you've got me to keep you company." He grins. "Ain't you a lucky gal?"

Elena feels anything but. His landing jostled her in unwelcome ways, setting off another round of protestations from her freshly-healed muscles. She can't even settle back and go limp; the way he's got his arm laid out right behind her neck, she'll bump into it the moment she tries to relax.

It was the same in the car. He kept pushing himself into her awareness by chattering on about nothing that mattered, when all she wanted to do was close her eyes and drift off. By the time they arrived at her address, she was too wound up to sleep.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer." Elena manages something that feels close enough to a smile. "Thanks for the ride home."

"Don't mention it."

She waits for the hint to sink in, but his long limbs remain motionless, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes up into the ceiling.

"Reno," she says, louder. "You can go now."

With a contented sigh, he sinks deeper into the cushions and crosses his ankles.

"Nah, I think I'll stick around."

"What? Why?"

"Tseng told me to." He glances at her out of the corner of his eye and smirks. "Gotta keep the rookie from getting into more trouble, since she can't go one damn week without getting herself all banged up."

Heat surges up her throat and fans out over her cheeks.

"Tseng said that?"

He places a hand on his chest. "Cross my heart."

Elena's face is on fire. She wants to sink into her damned couch and stay there forever, but the world is never kind enough to grant her wishes.

Reno doesn't shy away from her stunned stare. His smirk has vanished, and with his eyes wide open and his brows tilted in sympathy, he's the very picture of blue-eyed innocence.

Too innocent.

As realization dawns and dampens the mortification, Elena narrows her eyes.

"You're full of it."

His face splits into a shit-eating grin.

"Heyyy," he croons, "you're getting the hang of this Turk thing." He nudges her shoulder.

Elena wants to wipe that grin off his face with some lethal comeback, but an eye-watering stab of pain in her lower back puts a quick end to that. She grits her teeth and sags back against the couch. The mission should have been nothing, just plain routine; yet here she is, crumpling from a playful shove like a house of cards. Useless.

"Shit. You okay, Laney?"

Reno's smile is gone. His hand still hovers over her shoulder, but he doesn't attempt to touch her again.

"Are you trying to put me back in hospital?" she hisses.

"I'm used to hanging out with Rude. Guess I oughta dial it back a lil'." With an awkward chuckle, he clamps both hands between his thighs, as if setting himself a physical reminder.

"Or you could just leave," she growls through clenched teeth. "Go slap Rude's shoulder instead. Tell Tseng I'm fine while you're at it. No need for this so-called help."

"Now, now, Laney, we both know that's just the pain talking." He looks around, craning his neck. "Got anything to drink around here?"

"I can't drink," she sputters. "They pumped me full of painkillers!"

"You can't, you're right about that." The grin creeps back onto his face. "But I can."

Reno hops off the couch and pushes his hands into his pockets. Whistling some tune she doesn't recognize, he strolls into her kitchen, ignoring the holes she's glaring into his back.

No sooner has he vanished from view than the front pocket of her jacket begins to vibrate. With a quiet groan, Elena reaches for her phone, making sure to move as little of her body as possible. She doesn't even bother to check who's calling.

"What?" she snaps.

"Elena?"

The moment she recognizes Tseng's smooth baritone she tries to sit up straighter, only to wince when it triggers another spasm in her lower back.

"Yes, sir," she manages. "It's me."

"I heard you got released from hospital. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, sir," she mutters, trying to knead her clenched muscles into submission. "I'd be even better if Reno would agree to leave."

"Reno? He's with you?"

The surprise in his voice throws her off.

"Yes… Didn't you ask him to stay?"

"I gave him the afternoon off. He didn't tell me why he needed it."

Elena casts a suspicious glance toward the kitchen. She thought Reno was only lying about Tseng's commentary, not the order itself. Just what the hell is he playing at?

At the other end of the line, Tseng sighs.

"If he's bothering you, I can have a word."

The heat of her earlier embarrassment still lingers on her face. Reno keeps tricking her, and she keeps falling for it, every damned time. What kind of a Turk is she if she can't even keep a coworker in line?

Not this time. Whatever he's trying to pull here, she'll beat him to it.

"No, it's fine," she says firmly. "I just… let the pain do the talking before."

A pause.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Take tomorrow off, too. I'll see you on Monday."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

As Elena puts away her phone, Reno wanders in.

"Trouble?"

She pauses, wondering how he could tell it was Tseng. Then she realizes the mistake; it's what Reno always asks when one of them answers the phone.

"Just a friend." She keeps her tone light and breezy, because Reno is right about one thing: she has gotten the hang of this "Turk thing".

He has a glass of orange juice in each hand; he offers her one of them. Hesitantly, she accepts.

"Did you spike this?"

"Aw, c'mon, gimme some credit." He chuckles as he plants himself back down on the couch. "It's just orange juice. The doc said to keep your blood sugar up. Loads of hungry muscles to feed after all that Curing."

"What do you know about blood sugar and muscles?"

"As much as I need to." He raises his glass like a toast. "Get Cured, drink a bottle of OJ," he declares in his announcer voice, as if it's some poorly-written slogan. "Always worked for me, yo."

Elena watches him like a hawk as he raises his glass to his lips and takes a sip. Try as she might, she can't find even a glimmer of deception in those blue eyes of his.

Well, not quite blue right now; their color has shifted toward green. It must be the light. The lamps in her home are warmer than the cold white fluorescence of the office. They soften the gaunt angles of his face, smooth away years of drinking and smoking and probably worse. It makes makes him look more… boyish, especially when he keeps his eyes cast down, watching his glass as he gives it a swirl.

Dear Gaia, those eyelashes go on for days. They're dark too, darker than she would have expected from a redhead. Have they always been that long?

Hang on, what was she thinking about again?

"You," she blurts. "Staying, I mean. How long?"

He shrugs. "As long as it takes."

"As long as what takes?"

"You." He grins. "Getting better, I mean."

He even mimics her tone of voice. Her irritation flares.

"If you're just going to sit there and make fun of me all day, then you can do us both a favor and go home!"

Reno arches an eyebrow. After another sip of juice, he sets the glass down on her coffee table.

"Tell you what." He straightens up and drapes one arm over the back of the couch, facing her. "If you're feeling well enough to kick my ass, I'll call this job done."

He says it with an easy smile on his face. Elena hates it even more than his smirks, because it's so damned charming.

"You really are trying to put me back into hospital," she grumbles, shifting gently. Why did she have to notice those pretty eyes? Now she doesn't know where to look, so she places her glass on the table as an excuse to look away.

"Nah, you won't end up in hospital again while I'm around," Reno says. "I'll make damn sure of that."

He's still smiling, but there's a shift in his voice when he says the last part; a tremor so faint that Elena isn't sure if she imagined it. Her stomach flutters oddly.

"You can't keep a promise like that." She rolls her shoulder gently and makes a face when the dull ache turns into a twinge. "Not in our line of work."

As he watches her, the glint of humor fades from his eyes. She can't blame her imagination this time; he isn't even smiling anymore.

"Yeah. Guess I can't."

Elena was going to figure him out; that was the plan. Now she isn't so sure she wants to.

"I talked to Tseng," she confesses. She's had enough of this game. "He didn't know you were here."

She barely has time to see Reno's eyes widen before he drops his gaze.

"Look… I just…" He rubs the back of his neck, then takes a deep breath. "Okay," he mumbles to himself, then raises his voice. "To be honest… I wasn't sure you'd want me around, but after the shit that went down today… I didn't wanna leave you alone in here."

Elena's stomach dips. She expected indifference or evasion or even smugness, not… whatever this is.

"So you lied." It shouldn't piss her off this much, but it does. She's sore, and tired, and they're tiptoeing around something she's barely noticed before, and she sure as hell isn't ready to acknowledge it. This is so not the way her day was supposed to go!

One corner of Reno's mouth rises in that half-smile of his.

"Lying is what I do." As he looks up again, his smile grows wide enough to show a glimpse of teeth. "And I look after the rookies. Lying and babysitting, that's my job description right there."

Back to the games, just like that. Back to the asinine jokes and the never-ending quips he thinks are so goddamned funny.

"Call me rookie one more time," Elena growls, "and I swear–"

Reno holds up his hands, showing his palms.

"Easy there, easy," he says, snickering. "Damn Laney, you're so cute when you get angry."

Her irritation flashes into a rage. She hurls her fist through the air, aimed at Reno's jaw, but the motion is too quick, too sudden. The muscles in her back lock down in a cramp; her arm goes limp before she hits her mark and with a gasp, she collapses. Reno, quick as ever, throws his arms around her and falls backwards, keeping them both on the couch.

For a moment neither of them says anything. Elena's mind is reeling. She was throwing a punch. How did she end up all over Reno?

She feels Reno's laugh vibrate in his chest before she hears it.

"You always try to punch a guy after he gives you a compliment?"

"A compliment? That was an insult, you… you jerk!" She wants to yell at him, but it comes out as a pathetic whimper into his shirt. A shirt that smells far better than it has any right to, after everything they've been through that day.

"Yeah, okay, you got me there. What did I tell ya? Professional liar, yo."

"More like a mean, smug, lying professional jerk of a babysitter." Even as Elena says it she hates every word, but how is she supposed to think of clever insults when Reno has his arms around her in the sweetest embrace she's had in years?

"Y'know, uh…" He shifts under her. "That babysitting part? Might've been another lie."

"It had damn well better be," she mutters. Who the hell is holding her? It can't be the Reno she knows, because she's pretty sure that Reno has no clue hugs even exist.

"No, I mean…"

He pauses, and Elena freezes when she feels his hand stroke the back of her head. She doesn't even dare to breathe. She can't breathe.

It's the hug, it has to be. He's holding her too tight. Her face is smushed up against his shirt, the one that smells so good, too. The buttoned part of it, thankfully.

"Maybe… I just wanted to look after ya," he finally says. "Not the rookie. Not even the Turk, just… you."

His voice has gone soft. Elena's brain short-circuits; the next thing she knows, she's giggling. She doesn't mean to, not really, but it's too late; she's giggling her ass off and all she can think of to salvage this sad disaster is to play it off as a joke.

"I bet you're going to tell me I'm special next."

Reno chuckles and finally lets her go.

"Oh, please. I ain't that corny, thank you very much."

But Elena caught the strange look that crossed his face before he said it, and she thanks all the stars in the sky for her awkward reactions turning it all into a joke, because that look alone tells her far more than she wants to know, and she has no idea what she would have done if he had gone ahead and put it into words.

Her laughter has petered out. He isn't grinning anymore either. Neither of them is saying anything, and somehow that's even worse than her dumb little giggle fit.

"I, uh…" Reno nudges the goggles on his forehead, pushing them a little higher. "I oughta get going. You gotta be tired after a day like this."

"Yes," she says, because what else is she supposed to say after a scene like that? "Yeah, I'm… that. Tired, I mean."

Reno nods slowly and gets up.

"Well…" He pushes his hands into his pockets. "See you Monday?"

Today is Thursday. Not even Thursday night, only Thursday mid-afternoon. It occurs to her that Monday is a whole lot of days away.

His jokes aren't that bad, if she's completely honest. He has her in stitches several times a day at work, so long as she allows herself to let her hair down. He brings her drinks at work too, she realizes as she eyes their glasses sitting side by side on the coffee table. Coffee with luchile milk, no sugar, a touch of cinnamon. Practically the opposite of what he drinks himself.

With a sigh, Reno turns to leave.

"Actually," she says quickly. Too quickly, before she has a chance to think it through. "I might need a hand with… stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Oh, you know." Thoughts racing, she blurts out the first things that come to mind. "Shopping… cooking…"

He quirks an eyebrow.

"You're asking me to cook for ya?"

"I'm sure you'll surprise me."

He snorts. "Guess that's one way to put it."

Elena watches him, gnawing on her bottom lip. The couch feels awfully empty already. She feels empty, and giddy, and tired, and she's pretty sure she's made a fool of herself and half of it is because of the aftershock of the adrenaline, not to mention the discombobulation of an injury followed by a Cure. She doesn't know what to make of any of this, but she knows one thing: Monday is far too many days from now, and he hasn't said yes yet.

"See you tomorrow, then?" she prods.

"Sure." Reno smiles and raises a couple of fingers to his brow, and even though he's done it a thousand times before, she can't help but find it strangely endearing. "Til tomorrow, Laney."

He leaves. Once the door clicks closed, Elena sinks into the couch. As she stares up into the ceiling, a pleasant warmth blooms in her chest and sneaks all the way up to her face. Slowly, she begins to smile.