1

Work, despite Kunsel's transient presence, was generally brutal. SOLDIER wasn't doing exceptionally well, Meteorfall marking one of the last conflicts to mar Gaian soil, if you didn't count perhaps Sephiroth rearing his argent-crowned countenance once more nor the trials and tribulations a Mister Vincent Valentine saw to an end – the Planet was, seemingly, doing well. With the help of the WRO, the environment was alleviating its punishment upon the civilians and such; impending doom did not seem nearly as 'impending' any longer. There was no stigma, or rather, Zack had not noticed any stigma midst the streets of his new domicile, Edge. His job with Shin-Ra, at the moment, was naught but paperwork.

He couldn't complain, however; he made a fair salary working for the government, although he had not entirely made amends with the company itself. Rufus was shaping things up, one miniscule step at a time, nevertheless.

Groggily, a pallid appendage weaved itself through his ebony tresses, maneuvering them out of his eyes so to see the tiny black arrangements of alphabet emblazoned upon the paper before him. Shiva I need glasses, don't I? I'm not even thirty yet, for Minerva's sake. A heated sigh aroused his lips, segregating them prior to orating a command. "Kun come here for a –"

"Clockin' out, Fair! It's five O'clock, you coming?" There was a holler from directly behind his chair, planted firmly in front of his messy desk. He turned his heavy head, fixating his oculi upon Kunsel's figure positioned adjacent to the elevator door; he had donned his baseball cap in lieu of his unnecessary helmet, dragging the bill over his eyes in order to cast a shadow; exemplify the idiosyncrasy pertaining to his visage. (There was no mystery, nor a peculiarity, however, and Zack was resolutely aware of this; the vindication behind adorning such livery and veiling his eyes in darkness was to allow him to stealthily stare at Aerith's bloated breasts; though there was a reason Kunsel seldom did field work, even when SOLDIER was at its apex: truly was he not the greatest furtive man. And Kunsel did have a penchant for concealing his face from residents, to 'employ a sense of ambiguity', as Zack described it). "I thought that we were going to watch the chocobo race at your place; I put money on Zhiguer and everything! You know my cable's out."

"Cable's out or you forgot to pay your bill again?" The SOLDIER stood from his desk, kicking the wheeled chair behind him as he retreated to his comrade's side of the room. "Doesn't matter; I've got the bigger TV anyway." A wink came to pass, immediately prior to the opening of the elevator doors.

With a heave, Kunsel stripped off his heavy combat boots (which by that time were quite antiquated; the only use for them was for heavy work in the warehouse and perchance training on the odd day) and having tied them together, slung them over his shoulder before cladding himself in a pair of worn-down sneakers. "She's totally pregnant, by the way."

"You know, I'd really appreciate it if you stopped drooling over my wife's chest."

"Well it's the most efficient way to tell if a chick's knocked up and I'm like a hundred per cent sure on this one. I was right all of the last times, too. If she just told you right away I wouldn't have to investigate."

An ephemeral glance, saturated with disbelief, was cast to the corner of the confined elevator. "But you still would."

"But I still would. I'm just a curious person, you know that, Zack."

"Curiosity killed the tonberry, Kun."

"Eh," a shrug cavalierly rolled off of his shoulders as he stepped out of the apparatus, allowing a grin to bewitch his mien. "It's not like I'm interested. Even if I was, it seems sort of pointless now. What is this? Kid three? How are you even going to support all that?"

"We're thinking of getting a renter, maybe. Even though it's a small house. She joked about stripping but I think she might have been serious – And you might not even be right; she hasn't said anything yet so maybe we shouldn't assume." He put a leather-concealed hand to the glass door, drawing it open for Kunsel to step through; Zack followed soon behind.

A chuckle broke the fleeting silence as the two men drew on, directing themselves to the skytrain station juxtaposed betwixt the Shin-Ra building and a pizza place. "You're right. Maybe she's just getting fat. In her breasts only. What a lucky guy you are, if that's the case." He rolled his eyes; having squandered years upon years beside the Fair man, he knew of his eternal hope; he knew of his unyielding optimism, and he had grown used to it for the most part. "You know that she never tells you until it's blatantly glaring us all in the face. And by 'blatantly' I mean her buttons are snapping off and hitting people in the face."

"It happened once –"

"I almost died!"

"Drama king," a snort left his person, drawing attention from only a few fellow train-boarders. "She'll let me know when she lets me know."

"Like when she starts taking your clothes because hers don't fit; then you'll know. And you'll be sorry that you didn't believe me when I called it six months before that." The blond turned his optics to the window, allowing his attention to be embraced by the caliginous sky looming aloft; it was not the remnant of smog, but it was a forewarning to something of a storm, he had to admit. "Looks like we won't be able to take Max out after the race, Zack. Rain's comin'." And with the plate installed, this never would have been a problem for the people of the dichotomized sectors; he was happy to have it gone, but rain was hardly ever something that cheered people up (unless you were a certain flower saleswoman, then it might help products grow). "Damn it. He was excited about it, too. Wasn't Spikes supposed to come along?"

"It might clear up." The male turned his infatuation to the clouds, frowning slightly in defeat. "But what kinda SOLDIER ever let a little rain get in the way of a ball game, Kun?"

"A SOLDIER who doesn't want his nephew getting pneumonia while playing in the mud in a T-shirt. And a SOLDIER who doesn't want to deal with your upset wife when Maxie gets a cold."

"We'll make him wear a jacket, don't worry. An' 'm sure that we can find a part of the plate that's still intact that we can all play under, alternatively."

"If she hits me I swear to Ifrit—" He was silenced by a half-hearted punch to the left arm, hailing from the adjacent man.