I have decided that in my world Rufus's office -is- on the sixty-ninth floor... because it's sort of, you know, innuendo... ish and stuff. W00t. I don't own the Final Fantasy VII characters or anything. And I apologize in advance for typos, it's quite late as I upload this, so there are bound to be some errors. I'll catch 'em eventually. And review this bitch, okay! I've got 200 frickin' hits for this thing and 7 reviews! (Which were all wonderful, thanks a million for them!)
1:21PM
Lunch had gone incredibly well for Reno. So far beyond drunk, the girls had all leaned on him, and each other as they stumbled back to the Shin-Ra building, tripping over their heels, with those in closest to him telling him he smelled nice and had pretty hair. He resolved to get them all piss-drunk again, and soon. Very soon.
Reno had hardly been back five minutes and he was already getting antsy. His lunchtime buzz was wearing off and he was in the mood to cause some trouble. (Really, though, when wasn't he in the mood to cause trouble?) But what could he do...?
As he thought on that, Reno uncapped the calligraphy pen and began doodling on a post-it note. He drew a ridiculously well-endowed stick figure, giving it a ponytail, labeling it 'me,' and sticking it on the desk. His next sketch was of a remotely feminine looking stick figure, labeled, 'Shannon.' He stuck it on the desk too. He followed that up with a picture titled 'The other chicks.' After that, simply, 'IT'S PLAYTIME!'
"You're late. Again," Rufus informed Reno, over the intercom, causing him to mess up on his fifth post-it project: a gaggle of stick-women with giant 'O' mouths, seemingly admiring stick-Reno's impressive manhood.
Reno rolled his eyes, crumpling the tiny paper and throwing it away, then moving onto yet another little yellow sheet.
"I'll be informing your boss of your repeated tardiness," Rufus continued.
Reno rolled his eyes again. Really, what good would telling Tseng do? Talk about stating the obvious. That was about like telling someone Rude was bald, or that Palmer was fat, or that Scarlet was a slut. Hmm...
"Hold my calls," Rufus instructed him. "I'll be on lunch for the next hour, at least. Try not to screw anything else up."
"Affirmative, chief," Reno said, almost cheerfully, leaning over the phone as he stood up, post-it's and calligraphy pen in hand.
"For the last time, it's President Rufus."
"Sure thing, your highness," Reno agreed, taking the phone off the hook when he was certain Rufus was finally done talking.
He practically bounced to the elevator, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
1:32PM
Reno somehow found himself outside of the ladies room on the sixty-sixth floor... with his ear pressed against the door.
"That Reno's pretty cute..."
"Yeah, but he's kinda short."
Reno's smirk faded to a look of utter dissatisfaction. Of course, none of the ladies had any idea he was so grumpy about the remark, as he was outside eavesdropping, rather than being an active, welcome participant in the conversation.
"Oh, I bet he more than makes up for it in the bedroom..."
Outside, Reno had resumed smirking, and was nodding and thinking, 'Damn right I do,' to himself.
There were giggles and squeals, and the phrase "Oh, Shannon!" echoed by at least four women.
"You know who I think is hot? His partner - the big, bald guy. What's his name?"
"Rude? He's kinda creepy."
"No he's not! I think he has a tragic past. He's totally sexy. I bet he's all muscle underneath the suit."
"Yeah. And I bet he's an animal in bed!"
"I wonder what color his eyes are."
"Blue."
"No way. I bet they're brown."
"No, they're green. I'm sure of it."
"Maybe they're gray..."
"I shouldn't have had so much to drink. I think I'm gonna throw up..."
Reno decided it was time to leave. Listening in on oh-so-private girl talk was one thing, but hearing any one of his prospective one-night-stands puking her guts out? No thanks.
2:24PM
Nearly out of post-it notes and back behind the desk, Reno thought some more about his new lady friends. The overheard restroom conversation had been most enlightening for him. Shannon was the obvious ringleader. Queen of the upper-floor secretaries, if you would. Then the others, whom Reno had since opted to identify by their best trait, rather than by name. That, he had since decided, was just far too much to remember. So it was Shannon, Legs, Lips, Blue Eyes, and Giggles. If he had to give Shannon a nickname, Kinky would do. Least that was what Reno hoped. Especially since she seemed the type to attract followers. If Shannon... er... Kinky were to jump from the roof of the Shin-Ra building, Reno had no doubt the others would follow right behind her. The way he saw it, he only had to lure Shannon into his bed, and he'd have himself a scene worthy of depiction in a novel much like the one he 'd been reading earlier.
What would he call this tale? Reno thought on that, biting his pen. Though he was the only of his group involved, Turks Orgy! was the first thing to come to mind, but along with that title, catchy as it may have been, came unwelcome images of both Tseng and Rude. Elena... Well, that wouldn't have been too bad, Reno mused, but Tseng and Rude... He loved them both like brothers, but that was the only way in which he ever intended to love either man. 'Shin-Ra Orgy, then?' Reno silently asked himself. Of course that brought to his already questionable mind thoughts of the likes of Hojo, Palmer, and Heidegger. Cringing, the redhead decided that it was probably best to leave erotica to a professional, propping his feet up on the desk, and reaching for the slightly tattered copy of The Princess of Unbridled Passion.
3:37PM
Rude emerged from the elevator on the sixty-ninth floor, and headed for the reception desk, ill-prepared for what awaited him. Feet up on the desk, leaning back in his swivel chair, and wearing a pair of rectangular reading glasses on a beaded cord, was Reno. He had a book in his hands, too. One of those trashy romance novels, Rude decided, once he was close enough to make out the picture on the cover. It was a voluptuous woman in a flowing red dress, bosom spilling over the top, and looking as though she was about to be ravaged by a shirtless man wielding a pitchfork.
Leave it to Reno to get off on something like that.
"You stupid cock. She doesn't love you. She loves the muscular stable boy, okay? So quit trying to thrust your throbbing manhood into her already, Jean Paul!" Reno grumbled, seemingly to the book itself, a look of frustration lighting up his pale, and oddly accessorized face. "Besides, stable boy's already thrusted the shit outta her," he added, with a somewhat lecherous chuckle. He looked up from the book and at Rude.
Rude just shook his head. Now that he'd had a minute to get over the shock of his partner wearing pink framed glasses and reading something called The Princess of Unbridled Passion, the big man just couldn't help but be amused by it all. Though his expression hardly changed, and there was probably only one person on the face of the planet who knew him well enough to detect it, Rude just happened to be in the presence of that one person.
"What?" Reno asked, somewhat snippy, and took off the reading glasses, letting them hang from his neck. "Something funny? What do you need?"
Rude just shook his head, and signaled 'cigarette.'
"Okay. Sounds good," Reno agreed, standing up and nonchalantly tossing the book onto the desk. He took those couple of steps around the desk to Rude's side.
Rude raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Reno demanded.
Rude didn't speak, instead he just reached out to the pair of spectacles dangling from his partner's neck.
"What about 'em?" Reno asked, casually.
"Take them off."
"You take yours off," Reno challenged him.
"Those aren't even yours," the bald man reminded him.
Reno frowned, but removed the reading glasses nonetheless. "I didn't take them off for you," he insisted, tossing the controversial eyewear onto the desk, near the equally controversial novel that had been discarded just a moment before.
Rude merely turned away and headed for the elevator.
"I didn't," Reno reiterated, a half-step behind, as Rude hit the call button.
Being the bigger man, both physically and metaphorically, Rude diplomatically changed the subject, asking, "How's your day?"
Reno shrugged his shoulders. "Booze, women, phone calls, Rufus - power-hungry little shit. Porn... Well, sort of porn. Is it still porn if you have to read it? Because, I mean, nobody actually reads the articles in porno magazines... but they're still there, so... but there's also pictures of naked girls touching themselves..." He rambled on for a minute, until somewhat abruptly changing the subject and asking, "So, how's your day been?"
"Nice," Rude replied. "Peaceful."
Outside, Reno lit up one of the cigarette's he'd liberated from Jeannie's desk, and handed the pack to Rude, along with his lighter.
"I mean," Reno paused to take a drag. "these women should know that when they talk in the bathroom I can hear everything from outside with my ear pressed against the door."
Rude shook his head and smirked at Reno, who full-out grinned back at him.
"You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I found out. And not just listening in on their bathroom conversations either."
Rude said nothing, though Reno continued as if he had.
Reno nodded. "Oh yeah. They seem to have it in for Elena."
Rude offered one firm, thoughftul head bob.
"You know how many of them wanna boink us?" Reno asked, suddenly.
"I can only imagine," Rude deadpanned. He could also imagine how quickly that number, whatever it was, would drop if they knew what Reno was really like. An eavesdropping, borderline alcoholic with a one-track mind and very violent tendencies. And that was on a good day.
"They think you have a tragic past."
Rude nodded.
"Apparently, it makes you hot. They were even arguing over what color your eyes are."
"They were not."
"Oh yeah," Reno assured him.
"You didn't...?"
"Tell 'em? Nah. Thought about it, though. I was tempted to bust in there and tell 'em you didn't have any eyes, and that's why you wear shades all the time - to cover up the giant holes. Coulda said it was all part of your tragic past."
Rude sniggered a little.
Both men finished off their cigarettes, and Reno broke the momentary silence between them by clapping Rude on the back, somewhat suspiciously remarking, "Good to be alive, ain't it, Rude?"
Rude didn't say a single word, he just reached for his back. He peeled a canary yellow post-it note from his suit, reading it to himself, crumpling it, and casually tossing it aside.
Reno just laughed.
"Well, that explains the 'Will put out for lard' note I saw Palmer wearing earlier," Rude remarked.
Reno grinned.
"And the 'Will put out for just about anything' note on Scarlet."
"Oh, there's more where that came from," Reno assured his partner.
Though Rude offered no reply, no doubt he was thinking, 'I bet.'
4:04PM
"What?" Rufus grumbled over the intercom.
"Your four o'clock is here," Reno said, simply, and far too unassumingly.
Rufus groaned, and Reno imagined he was pouting from inside his big, luxurious office. "I wasn't aware that I had a four o'clock. Fine. Send them in."
"Yesiree," Reno said, his tone that of genuine excitement. He looked up from the phone and at the trio sitting in the waiting area. 'So worth the wait.' Reno thought to himself, as he stifled a chuckle and told them, "President Rufus will see you now."
Past Reno, and into Rufus's office walked a policeman, a construction worker, and a cowboy. Each man had the physique of a bodybuilder. The cowboy was carrying a boom-box and the policeman's handcuffs were fuzzy pink.
'President Rufus'll see them, all right.' Reno sniggered, and looked down at the business card one of the men had given him, after he'd allowed them access to the sixty-ninth floor. "'You've Got Male, Escorts and Entertainment...'" he read the card aloud.
Reno leaned back in his, or rather, Jeannie's chair and allowed himself a moment to bask in the glory of his genius. Then he mentally declared 4:04PM "the new five o'clock" and prepared to make his exit. Rufus could thank him for everything later.
Reno had nearly reached the elevator when he heard Rufus shout his name, followed by a string of curse words, the likes of which even Reno hadn't heard before. He stopped, sighed, and did an about face. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't just... no, he had to go back.
5:23PM
Rude said nothing as he took in the vision of Reno, hunched over on a barstool, in their favorite pub. An empty glass and an ashtray could be seen on the bar in front of him. He had a cigarette in his left hand. Rude shook his head slightly and sat down next to Reno. He decided he wouldn't mention the object in his partner's right hand; he knew it was only a matter of time before Reno attempted to explain it all himself.
Reno looked up from the book, and, as if knowing what Rude was thinking, said, "Took off a little early," then signaled "two" to the bartender.
A pair of shot glasses were noisily placed in front of Reno and Rude. A brief, wordless toast ensued, both men downing their shots a second later, not surprisingly, like pros.
Reno sort of slammed his empty shot glass down on the counter, snuffed his cigarette out in the ashtray, then somewhat violently turned the page in his book. "For the last time, she's in love with the fucking stable boy!"
Rude ignored the stares and chuckles - Reno was completely oblivious to it all - and simply signaled for two more shots.
Um... yeah... Hope this was enjoyed. As for the Rufus-bashing - I used to hate Rufus. A lot. In fact, I started an anti-Rufus livejournal community. Hasn't been touched in YEARS, but feel free to swing by! It's www-dot-livejournal-dot-com-slash-community-slash-rufus-underscore-sucks. In story-related news, I don't quite like the last section of this part. Sorry it sucks. Epilogue will make up for any suckiness... I hope. XD
