In Times of Desperation

Squint-and-tilt-your-head-sidways-to-see Tseng/Rufus

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the places, or the pot plant or the clock... and I can't bake to save my life.

AN: Very OOC Rufus


Rufus ShinRa

Eye Colour: Blue

Hair Colour: Blond

Currently: Locked in his office surrounded by paperwork, unhappy and hungry. Very hungry.

Rufus scowled as he scanned the office again. Tseng had gotten him out of bed at a horrendously early time and dragged him (figuratively) kicking and screaming to his office. Then left and locked the door behind him with a final passing comment, "do all your work and I'll be back to let you out later". So far, this hadn't really inspired Rufus to do anything except bemoan the fact that he hadn't had any breakfast. The clock, hung on the other side of the room between a pot-plant and a portrait of the Turks, told him the time was 10:10 am. Rufus slumped in his chair and reluctantly picked up a pen.

The finished work pile was looking considerably smaller than the to-be-done work pile. Bigger than it had been, but still small. The ShinRa boy kicked his desk impatiently.

"This isn't fair," he complained to the pot-plant, "I shouldn't have to be pushed around by Tseng!"

Rufus crossed his arms and sulked. 10:56

10:57

10:58

Rufus picked up the next document and twirled the pen between his fingers.


"…Requesting permission to build blah blah blah on the site of blah blah, old and derelict church blah, needs renewal blah, flowers blah. Blah," Rufus read out loud, "permission DENIED! HaHA!"

Rufus ShinRa grinned evilly and stamped the document before signing it. He then proceeded to toss the sheet onto the slowly growing pile of finished work. He smirked.

"That'll show them."

The clock ticked in disapproval. 11:24

Pangs of hunger shot through his stomach. Damn that Tseng. I need food.


Rufus ShinRa, for not the first time in his life, had a good idea. He was going to escape. And that was that. But how?

The young blond could feel his brain cells dying from lack of food, his mind becoming a sloshy puddle of mush. He didn't not appreciate the idea of this happening. He kinda needed that brain. 12:01

Then, he spotted it and everything slotted into place. It was so obvious, so easy, yet so devilish. He chuckled to himself.

The air-vent. Typical escape route of every hero in history. Now, for the first time a ShinRa would use the forever-handy air-vent. Degrading? Slightly. Brilliant? Absolute genius.

The clock on the wall made a disparaging remark with a flick of its second hand and Rufus glared at it. 12:02

The air-vent was located in the centre of the room. Perhaps, if Rufus had been any other person he would have not seen the solution, but here he was, standing on top of his wheelie chair in the middle of room reaching for the grate. But, he was just a few measly inches too short.

Rufus, however, was not going to be stopped by a few inches. So, balancing precariously, arms out reached to the ceiling, he jumped.

And hung on to the grate, his fingers curled around the metal bars. His feet dangled above the chair and he kicked out, grinning wildly. Suddenly, the grate swung down and Rufus' hands slipped. He landed with a thump on the chair and winced.

Pushing the chair back into position, he quickly stood up on it again. His foot slid out from underneath him and his eyes widened as he came crashing down to earth. Rubbing his backside, Rufus realised he'd have to be more careful in the future.

The blonde wafted a hand in front of his face; this was hot and tiring work. He slipped the jacket from his shoulders and tied it tightly around his waist. Rufus stood up slowly on chair and reached upwards. This time his jump propelled him further and his pulled himself up so his arms were inside the vent. Looking down, he realised with a gulp that his jump had pushed his chair across to the other side of the room. There was no going back now.

Rufus wriggled his legs and pulled himself up into the vent so that his chest was now resting on cool metal of the vent. Which, to Rufus' relief was quite spacious. He pulled himself fully into the vents and started shuffling forwards. His grin widened as he got into a rhythm and so he so shuffling along the vents at a reasonable speed. The ShinRa boy took a turn to the left on a ventilation crossroads and followed what smelt like the wonderful scent of freshly baked cookies.

The smell got stronger as Rufus approached a grate. He peered through the bars but the room below was an empty office with a plate of unsuspecting cookies on the neat desk. Carefully swivelling around in the vent so his feet pointed at the grate, he gave the grate a swift kick and it obliging swung open.

Rufus began his descent. Feet first he leapt out of the air-vent and landed on the desk next to the cookies. His shirtsleeve caught on the grate and he came down and tore the way up to his shoulder. Grinning madly, he crouched on the desk and tucked in to the delicious smelling baked goods.


Tseng had a headache. It had started this morning when he'd had to get Rufus ShinRa out of bed early and drag him to work. The boy had protested loudly the whole way. When he'd finally gotten that out of the way, he'd settled in a discussion with the other Turks on their objectives and such for this month.

Now, as he was returning to his office, the Turks had followed after him; Elena complaining in one ear that she wasn't getting enough pay and Reno in other whingeing that he didn't get a long enough vacation to Costa del Sol. Rude was trailing silently behind both of them.

Tseng reached his door and opened it violently with the intention of closing it in the other's faces only to be faced with possibly the most headache-incurring thing of all.

Rufus ShinRa, blond hair tousled in every direction, jacket hanging loosely around his waist, white sleeve neatly ripped revealing his arm and wild blue eyes that shifted up the moment the Turks entered the room, was feasting on a platter of cookies.

Behind him, Tseng heard Reno stifle a laugh and Elena cough politely. No doubt, Rude had pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose and turned away. Tseng sighed and massaged the pressure point above the bridge of his nose.

"Rufus," the leader of the Turks began, "no, you know what? I don't really want to know."

He turned around and the spot and started walking. A voice from behind stopped him in his tracks.

"Tseng?"

The named Turk turned around very slowly.

His eyes met the wide blue ones that belonged to Rufus.

"I'm sorry," Rufus held out a delectable cookie, a smile tugging on the crumb-covered corners of his mouth, "did you want one?"


Reviews appreciated. Belle.