All the King's Men
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters: Elena, Rufus
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Property of Squaresoft. No money is being made off this.
Chapter 1
The empire was before him. The spread of Neo-Midgar was beneath the glass pane of luxury restaurant, fifty stories above the earth---realized only after abandoning the remains of the old….
There, in the ruins of the sad city left demolished in Meteor's wake, only the Edge thrived. Midgar needed a new future, a new vision. No half-retarded wake of a phoenix could compare. So Rufus shifted his expansion to the West. Not only a fresh change of scenery, but to make the statement that this was a new beginning. That the dynasty hadn't died. No, ShinRa was still powerful, but now it had to negotiate its power. Now, there were limits.
So, no, Neo-Midgar wasn't built on the promise land (if there was ever any such thing?). But it was built and finished, and even expanding nonetheless.
The funds of the old world helped the new. Thousand of investment options, research, favors; Rufus had, with such effort and pain, stocked them up to be used in these trying times. When the ashes were still warm.
The woman besides him chuckle. Saying, "Rufus, you're so serious! It won't do. You'll get wrinkles before your age."
So, he thought, the name ShinRa still had its currency.
After all, people still believed in the old because it was familiar (even if they were betrayed by it). And there was that whole idea of legacy and legitimacy.
He smiled at the woman. A superficial, charming and somewhat wicked smile that melted her like butter—she couldn't sense the venom and seething ambition beneath it; the whole point of seeing her now.
"I'll call for some alcohol," he suggested.
Something to loosen the tongues, then maybe later…
The shirts and the clothing…
More currying of favors. And the woman was beautiful. Round, supple breast. Ample hips and good height---legs on end; and thankfully, like most others in her class, vacant in the brain. Still, being the daughter of an influential politician had its advantages and Rufus was interested in those advantages, even if it did mean…
Underneath the table, Rufus' hand glided up smoothly on her thighs. A lascivious gesture that had her flushing. She exclaimed, her face twisted in a way that admonished him playfully, "Naughty, naughty boy. I didn't know it was time for dessert already."
"Dessert?" He played along. "My dear, this is just the appetizer."
He leaned in and sucked gently on her earlobes, causing her to shiver. And Rufus reflected on what a sonofabitch he was.
There as shuffling. The sound of plastic wrapping being torn open and someone heaving in desperation. In disbelief, even.
Twenty hours after returning from the mission in Nibelhelm, Elena was squatting—quite ungracefully—on the toilet in her small apartment bathroom. Besides her, inside the sink (there wasn't any room for a counter), was a discarded box and plastic wrapping dumped haphazardly there.
And Elena looked panic.
What had tipped her off to doing this, she had no idea. A hunch, maybe. Silly and enough to disregard, but she didn't.
She had heard another female Turk remarked, offhandedly in a joking manner: "Morning sickness?"
"Ahhaha," Elena waved her hand dismissively, laughing it off.
But then she found herself later in the convenience store running a tab of twenty gils for home pregnancy testing. You know, one of those, instant deciders-of-fate things…
The type that keeps you up in the middle of the night, pale-faced and wondering, what the hell did I do?
And she had been so careful!
Her watch alarm rang and she beeped it off, dropping her feet to the ground and then, taking a deep breath, she peered at the result—a tiny green line. No, two tiny green lines.
Elena tossed the stupid stick aside (what does a pee stick know anyways?). "Damn thing's broken!"
Then she looked again to the discard bin, and at twenty other broken pee sticks. And suddenly, she can't breath; the room felt hotter, warmer, stuffy like they were in Costa del Sol on the beach.
The air conditioning was still on…
She checked the box, reading the instructions again for the twelve hundredth time. And the facts, the totaling data had such incredible weight—they were staring at her right back. The only question now was what to do. Elena put her hands on her face and groaned; she really didn't know what.
"The President, please."
Regina, Rufus's pretty, pretty little secretary looked up from her computer (and the exciting game of solitaire), to see Elena looking down at her, expectant.
"I'm sorry," she responded, "is he expecting you?"
"Well, no…" Elena admitted.
"I'm sorry, Elena. He's in with a meeting with an investor at the moment. Maybe if you come back at 3? I'll pencil you in then.
Pencil me in?
Elena sighed. Downcast eyes and a general expression of dragging her feet had her looking like she wanted to meet the big boss after all. Still, she pressed, "Yeah. But this is an emergency. I won't be long."
"So sorry," the other girl proffered up that much as apology. My hands are tied, her eyes say.
And Elena nods, because she understands: this is the way things are. So Elena turned, hands stuffed in her pockets—ready to leave. And the girl at the desk (pretty, pretty brunette), reassured, went back to looking busy, by double clicking on the ace she had just uncovered in her game when suddenly…
Whoosh, a breeze of blur shot right by her.
Before she realized or could even get up to stop, all she could muster was a weak, "Elena, no!"
Too late.
Inside the office, the two men (and the women from the restaurant—Cindy, that's her name), looked up from the weapon model to see Elena burst in, followed quickly by panicked and thoroughly terrified Regina.
"Elena?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Regina said, "I tried to stop her."
And Elena had that desperate, kind-of, disheveled appearance that prompted Rufus to ask, "Is something wrong?"
Elena seemed to register the situation. All eyes—important people—on her. She had realized the enormity of the intrusion (Rufus never liked to be bother), and, for a second, considered maybe walking out like this never happened…
Instead she said, "President, sir. I have something very important to tell you." Her voice shaking. Words coming together firmly.
Rufus looked to his guests then back to Elena, asking, "Can it wait?"
A moment, then, a shake of the head. A firm, no this can't wait.
Rufus cleared his throat before offering to the other people in the room a: "I'm sorry. But could we possibly finish some…"
"Say no more, Rufus," the short stubby man said. "We understand. Other matters needing your attention. Please do call us to reschedule. I'm very interested in seeing where we can implement these ideas."
As Rufus escorted the man and the woman out, Cindy stopped to offer a farewell, "Rufus…"
"Cindy."
A smirk on her lips—the promise of more.
And he couldn't have cared less as he shut the door behind her.
He turned to Elena, who was wringing her hands, worried. "All right, then. What's wrong?" He asked, approaching her.
Elena's big brown eyes looked up at him, glistening like she was so panicked that she was going to cry. He registered this and was all the more confused.
Then she started in a rush of words. No pauses in-between. And he caught something like, "Sir,Ididn''msorry aobutinterruptingyou. ..Butyouwere…were…And I...I…"
"Stop," He held up his hand, "Breathe. Now what?"
And she was breathing. Hard. Finally, assuming enough control she told him, "I've missed my period."
His face: blank, emotionless. Not the reaction she was looking for, so she continued…
"It's been over a month. And, in Nibelhelm, I threw up. So I thought…I could be. You know…"
But she can't find the words to continue. Not with him staring at her like that. Like, like…
Nothing.
Just. Blank.
And there was such guilt. Elena felt like someone had just torn her guts out: him staring at her like that. And she can't face him, she thinks—
"Regina!"
Elena looked at him in surprise when Rufus abruptly called out.
The secretary rushed in, "Yes, sir?
"Clear my schedule for the day and get the car ready."
"You're going somewhere?" She asked confused. Didn't he have something really, important planned? She can't exactly remember.
"Never mind where, just do as I say."
"But what about Mister Reeves of the WRO?"
"Tell him apologies, but something's just come up."
Reno pounded his fist against the candy machine. "Stupid, broken, piece of crap."
Rude, standing next to him, adjusted his glasses and said simply, "You break it, you pay for it."
"I know that, yo!" Reno shot back, flustered and indignant. "You'd think new city, sure. New building and headquarters, great! But they can't even get functioning candy machines."
"Hmm…"
"I just want my Nutty Buddy."
Rude shook his head. To think, an elite member of ShinRa practically crying over a vending problem. We definitely have issues…hmm?
Rude notices something interesting, more like a commotion down below. They were on the second floor, which offered a view at ground level over the railing---there was a definite commotion there. Noises of excited chattering.
He peered over the railing to see: Rufus followed by an entourage of several people speaking to him all at once—as if this was their last chance to catch him today.
"Whatcha looking at?" Reno asked, joining Rude to peer over the side. He was munching on the Nutty Buddy he'd just managed to extract from that godforsaken machine.
Rude took notice, "Break me off a piece."
And Reno did. Before returning his attention over to Rufus about to exit the building. "Where's he going? Oh hey, Elena! What's she doing there? She privy to something we don't know about?"
Rude shrugged.
Reno, however, appeared more concerned than anything.
After all, if Rufus was discussing Turk business he should take it up with the head, Tseng. Not small fry like Elena. Or at the very least, Rufus would be consulting him—he was her senior, after all….
But now, watching Elena get shuffled outside the entrance along with Rufus in such haste, he couldn't help wondering if something about this was off…
The Presidential car awaited--all gleaming black in the sun. As the chauffeur quickly stepped out, wiped the sweat off his brow and nervously opened the door for Rufus.
Rufus didn't enter first as expected. Instead, he whipped his arm around to grab a hold of Elena, shuffling her into the car ahead of him. She—surprised, but still obedient—complied. Then Rufus turned to Regina and whispered for her ears only: "Make sure I'm not interrupted."
"Yes, sir."
It didn't matter if the entire hospital was busy and booked; if a ShinRa family member showed up, you damn well make room. No need for reservations, phone calls, all the rituals of seeing a doctor.
Rufus showed up and was greeted immediately by the chief of medicine (Rufus was, after all, the main donor here).
"A room."
"Of course."
A few curious eyes followed them as they walked towards the elevator. The President with a girl and the boss-hospital man—an interesting sight.
Inside the private room, Rufus finally made his intentions clear: "I want to see the head obstetrician."
Obstetrician? The hospital chief looked over at the girl and Elena felt an intrusive and judgmental gaze fall upon her; he responded, "Yes. I'll go call on Doctor Inman right away."
Just as the doctor was leaving, he heard, "Um…" coming from Elena.
The two men turned to look at Elena, who offered a weak, "Is Doctor Inman, by any chance, a woman?"
"No."
"Oh." Then Elena, shifting her eyes back and forth before looking up, added a small request, "Is there any way that, maybe, I could see a lady doctor?"
The chief of medicine raised an eyebrow and looked over to Rufus for consent.
And Rufus had a small sigh by way of saying, whatever she wants…
"A woman then," Rufus agreed aloud.
The chief nodded before leaving obediently.
Elena hated pap smears. There was something so exposing about it. Didn't matter if the environment was friendly, professional, and sterile; she would rather have avoided it completely. Now she sat in a white hospital gown (naked except for that flimsy excuse of a cover), with her feet held up on stirrups which kept her legs apart…
Wide enough for inspection.
Elena flushed. As if it wasn't bad enough, Rufus remained in the room.
The obstetrician, who usually asked if the man in the room was the partner or husband, simply nodded to Rufus and began to instruct Elena to disrobe. There was an unspoken code of secrecy and acknowledgement. What occurred would remain here until further notice…
The monitor beeped, but besides the doctor, no one had a clue of what was going on. Rufus was looking for a sign, anything, when the doctor said, "I see…"
She, the doctor, looked at Elena and offered a: "Well then, congratulations."
Elena felt her heart dropped.
The doctor continued, "You're an expectant mom."
"I…I…"
I mean the pee sticks show it, but here was undeniable confirmation.
"I can't be!" She blurted out.
The obstetrician was taken aback. She's had that sort of reaction before—seeing almost everything when it comes to pregnancy in her line of business (and people can go crazy)---but she wasn't expecting it from Elena, seeing as how...he was obviously the father…
Rufus came up to the woman doctor and said, quite calmly, "Show me." He indicated the monitor bleeping up images of the 'child.'
And, obliging, she pointed to a small splotch of white in the middle of the screen.
"Hmm…" Rufus, thinking, asked then, "Boy or girl?"
"It's too early to tell. We're still in the first trimester."
"Hmm…"
The ceiling was spinning and Elena had to close her eyes for a bit. How could he be so calm? Unless…
Unless, of course, he didn't think it was his. Then there wouldn't be an issue. And looking at Rufus's face--that completely impassivity---this had to be the case.
Why the hell wasn't he completely terrorized like she was? This idea of an alien life-form growing inside her. If she didn't feel battered and dragged down by this miserable of all miserable days, she would be shouting, "WE USED PROTECTION!!!" at the top of her lungs.
Elena wanted to beat someone up for this stupidity.
The doctor offered, "I'll go get the prenatal care package." She left the room, allowing time for the two inside to make up their mind about this issue.
What was there to think about though? Pregnancy? For God's sake, she was only twenty five. Sure, she took sex ED, but she paid attention! Enough to know how not to get knocked up…
So why this?
She couldn't be someone's mother; she couldn't even do her own laundry without mixing up the whites and the color.
And then there was the OTHER choice. Not that it was too terrifying or that she was opposed to it or anything; but, for Elena, that choice wasn't real for some strange reason. Like she couldn't contemplate the where, when, and how of it. And if Rufus had asked (the A-B-O-R-T word), she didn't know how she would respond.
Probably with a 'you sonofabitch,'
She felt his hand closed around hers—a warm, comforting, intimate hold—the first of the day. The first in weeks…
And just as suddenly, the formality, the space between them, collapsed. She was confused by this sudden shift his attitude as he took his seat besides her and told her, his voice soft, "This is good."
Reassuring….
"This is good."
Again, as if no one in the room actually believed it...
But Rufus continued, "Good news."
With that, the five letter word (A-B-O-R-T) was no longer a probability or even a possibility. Out the window. And now, all Elena had were the butterflies in her stomach.
She should cry, she thought then.
She should say something. Her world was just ending, after all.
But there was such nervousness that if she spoke she would probably just squeak. Instead, she nodded dumbly in agreement.
Good news, I guess.
And Rufus smiled. A small, but genuine smile (another first in weeks), and took her in his arms, pressing her head against his chest—against his heart. And, Elena supposed-- resting then, closing her eyes--there was something to say about that---that thump, ta, thumping she found there.