...Part Three...
Outside the restaurant, Tseng held the car door open for her to get in.
"Well, it's true..." She muttered, slipping into the car with a bright smirk. "You are both a gentleman, and no fun."
He closed the door as soon as her feet were inside. He walked around the car, thinking about that comment. He breathed over his cold hands - balled into one big fist- and crouched down onto one knee to glance under the car. No bomb. Of course there was no bomb, but today he didn't feel well, today wasn't fun, and checking made him feel better. Was that so bad?
He opened the door on the driver's side of the car. He sat down, pulled the door shut.
"I am no fun," he said, rolling the comment over his tongue to taste it. Bitter. Oh little shotgun, how could you be such a bright radiant light? He was a darkness that sucked every ray of light up - she should turn from him, not move closer like she seems to do every time they were in the same space together.
Shona regretted the comment as soon as it was said, but there was no taking it back. Words were funny that way, weren't they? Always hada way of biting, with no way to remove the venom. And always, always finding their mark. She swallowed to clear the lump in her throat, and turned to face him. "That comment was both uncalled for and tactless. It should not have been said, and I am truly, deeply sorry."
She turned back in her seat, facing the windshield and attempting to steady her breathing. Now would not be the time to begin using her outside voice, as it would further irritate her colleage.
Tseng started the car, and the lights on the dashboard illuminated the sharp angles of his face. His hair was pulled back perfectly, his mouth a downwards bow. The lights of the dashboard, nor the lights of the lantern poles of houses seemed to reach his black eyes as they drove.
"It's alright," he said softly when they were on the speed lane.
No, it's not... she thought, defiant to her very core. Made her wonder why she chose the Turks in the first place, as she hated orders, and work, and strenuous activity. Yet here she was. Finally finding her voice again, she replied, "Would you believe me if I said I used to be more stuck up than Gun?"
"Would you give me a reason to doubt it?" he asked, barely audible to counter her loud voice. He glanced in the rear mirror, then the side mirror, and overtook a large truck. He drove above the speed limit.
"Good Gaia, I don't feel like dying tonight, sir," she snapped, glaring at his reflection in the rear veiw mirror. She loved flying in the choper, but hated driving. Just more confounding facts about the woman. "And I'm not sure what you mean..."
"Sorry, I forgot." He instantly took his foot off the gas pedal. The car slowed down to a reasonable speed. He glanced out of the window, and then pressed a button with his index finger. The roof folded back, and suddenly the black car had a view of the city lights above. There were no stars, those remained obscured by the skyscrapers.
"Better?" he asked. "Not as confining."
"You're too kind," she deadpans back, biting her lip to keep from laughing. So he did really care! With most of Tseng's normal actions and reactions surrounding the Turks, one would think he was heartless. But she knew this to not be true. She saw the way he looked after the President, and it wasn't just for the pay check. For lack of a better phrase, he'd grown fond of the other man. Sighing for what felt to be the hundreth time that night, she continued. "But really. Thank you."
He reached out, and put a hand on her knee. He squeezed her leg softly, then put his hand back on the manual gear. He switched gears from 5 to 3, and glanced at her face. Then back at the road.
"You're welcome," he said softly. "And I apologize - I'm not at my best today."
"None of us are, sir." And that was the honest to Gaia truth, as she had seen even Cloud sway under the dark aura that now surrounded their President. Although, who could really blame him, considering what, or who, caused it. But it was even harder to deny the weird thrill that passed through her as his hand met with her leg. "But you're not the worst of the lot, to be perfectly frank."
He laughed.
Tseng laughed out loud, into the night sky, with clear ha-ha-ha's. Then he reached out and ran a hand over her head like he would do to a child, a little girl. She was a little bright light, this girl, and she didn't know the darkness he held, and to her it didn't matter, did it? So he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and kept his eyes on the road.
He took a turn, and they entered a neighborhood area. He stifled his laugh, but the smile remained as he asked: "Which house is yours again?"
And THAT sent a shiver down her spine. He probably had no idea what he was doing at the moment, and it was infuriating. But also thrilling. And his laugh! A gorgeous sound, and that was a compliment the Turk did not use often. One filled with the warmth he normally worked so hard, and succeeded, in supressing. "S-smallest on the left..." she murmured, eyes wide and staring ahead.
Even in the darkness he could see that she was flustered. He had not touched a girl's hair since he had tugged Aerith's behind her ear, or Elena's behind her ear. He grabbed his tighter, and focused on the road ahead.
He decided that this entire day had been strange and nasty. At least it had all ended well.
The houses passed by, and he stopped the vehicle at the smallest house. He clicked the button so the room went back onto the top of the car. He walked around it, opened the door for her.
She hummed as they slowed, then stopped, fully ready to open her own door. But of course the most well known gentleman in ShinRa was having none of that. She waited, silently impatient as he loped around the car, finally opening her door while remaining silent and calm as a panther. She slid out with the grace of practiced skill, and nodded to the man, fully intending this to be the end of the night. Even though she had promised a song. "Well... This was an interesting day..."
He walked her to the door. "Your song," he said. The rest of the street was quiet. "I forgot about it."
"...Ah. As did I, I'm afraid. So, I was thinking, The River Flows In You?" Her favorite song, and that was no lie.
"A good choice." Tseng stood with one black shoe on the outside doormat, with the other on the tiles. He looked down on her, their height difference more apparrant when they were not seated.
And he remained there, a long figure with a long dark blue coat. And he continued to look.
Shona had the crane her head to see Tseng as she flipped on the hall lights, only standing at 5'2". "You can go inside, you know. I'm not going to bite you for intruding on my territory, or something else ridiculous." But then he continued to gaze at her, and his expression was puzzling.
"I don't want to impose," he said softly.
"I promised you a song, did I not?" She always, always kept a promise. Or rather, stubborn demand as tonight's had been.
He stepped over the threshold. He looked at her as he closed the door with one hand, and without breaking eye contact, he shrugged off his coat and hung it up on the coatrack as if he had come here daily for a year.
His black eyes seemed to suck in the light. "I have a song for you, too."
Removing her own, much shorter pea coat, she glanced up at the man through her lashes with a well groomed brow raised. She'd never heard the man sing, let alone play an insrtument, in her time at the company. But she would take his word for it. "I have a piano, a cello, and a violin in the next room. I'm sure you can play one of the three, if you do, as they're most popular." Without another word and a hearty clearing of her throat, she slipped off her dress shoes and strode down the hall. She couldn't bear to look into those entrancing eyes for another second, lest she go insane.
He followed her, and opened the zipper of his Turk jacket. He shrugged off the jacket too, realized -when the jacket was halfway his elbows- that he was completely armed and it would take a while to disarm himself- to keep it on. He followed her to the next room, and watched her go about in a rushed and nervous manner, like a small animal. He liked watching girls. He liked the flow of their hair, the way the light touched their soft skin, the gentle manner with which they approached the world even when they were dead serious.
Tseng liked watching Shotgun.
Had she known his thoughts, she would have no doubt gone twenty different shades of russet. Red wasn't the correct word here, as she would have been so dark crimson her face would resemble a tomato. Instead, she loosened her tail of hair, letting the straight brunette strands fall against her spine as she took of her Turk jacket, unlike her superior, and un-holstered the single pistol from her side, finally settling on the piano bench and turning to said superior. "So, which of us will be going first?" she asked, again deadpan to hide her growing embarrassment.
Tseng gestured to the musical instrument she was seated at, and said: "It seems you have already answered that yourself. Do play for me."
He himself sauntered to the window sill. He closed the curtains, and dimmed the bright light. It then switched to yellow half-light. "What are you waiting for? Do start."
Was he taunting her? No, Tseng was above such trivial things. Giving him one last wry glance, Shona turned to the well kept up, glossy insrtument before her, and proceeded to pick out the very first notes of her favorite piece, both to hear, and to play. As the song picked up, she could imagine silver tendrils carrying the music from her beloved piano across the room, and out the window that he say near. She could imagine the song creating a life of its own, not unlike the Lifestream itself. The joy she felt at the simple beauty would eventually have to end, and she lifted her fingers from the keys as the last notes resounded of the walls. Canting her head, she looked back to her superior and stood with that same practiced grace, and motioned for him the take his turn.
Tseng had stood there with his hands in his pockets, open jacket pushed back behind his wrists. Then his chin slowly moved down and up, in the smallest nod. "Well played," he said. "I would like you to play it again for me. Will you?"
"Now, or...?" she asked, voice soft as if coming down from an exhilarating ride. She wouldn't mind playing another time for him; in fact, it would be a dream made to reality.
He crossed the room, and stood behind her. He used the pocketknife on the ring of his car keys to cut the elastic out of her hair. He pocketed his keys, and ran his hands through her golden hair. Gold, gold, gold. It slipped through his fingers like water.
He tugged her hair to make her look up to him.
He stood above her, tall and mighty. Then he let go of her head a little. "Yes, right now."
The Turk Director ran a hand through her hair. "Do you mind... this?"
A short thrill traveled it's merry way down her spine as his fingers again found their way through her hair, and the shock continued when he tugged her face up to his. Her eyes wide, almost frightened, she nodded as best she could and her hands again found their way to the keys. She inhaled as best she could in her delerious state, and again found the notes she loved so much. As she continued her melody, she shook her head no. "Not at all, sir." Not in the slightest...
He ran his hands through her hair. "Stop playing if you want me to stop."
He braided her hair and unbraided it again, ran his fingers through the spun gold. He tugged it to the side, and revealed her neck. It was late, probably approaching midnight. When he had closed the door he had put it on the nightlock, and at checking the windows they all seemed to have been appropriately locked. They were alone and there was no one else here - no friends, no family, no housemates.
As she played, Tseng breathed in the scent of her almost-faded floral perfume.
This was becoming almost intoxicating, and Shona had a feeling she would play until her finger would useless if only he would continue. So she kept up her playing of the baby grand, shuddering all the while. She could snese the faintest hint of a deep, rich colgne, and it make her head spin. To think anyone would have such a hold over her... And her boss, too. So, she switched to a new song, if only to prolong his ministrations.
He leaned forward and took her wrists. He pulled them from the piano keys - stopping her in her tracks. "Not that song," he said.
Tseng leaned back, and took out his phone. He checked the messages on the lockscreen. "Rufus is home safe, and the others are sleeping over there," he informed her with a mechanic casualty. They were safe, they were in bed.
Tseng pressed Play, and he put his phone with one hand on the piano. He pressed play, and "Hungry," by Dotan, began to play. Then he put a hand on her cheek, turned her head. As the song played, he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
She sighed in defeat as his hands left her hair at long last. And it changed to one of relief when she was informed of the other's safety. But the casualness in his voice ground on a nerve. There was the cold indifference again. Her ears picked up the beginning notes of the song, and Shona recognized it. When she realized this, it was too late, and his lips had captured hers. She was sure he would pull away, and one hand wove around his deceptively slim neck. using her own strength to keep the kiss going, and deepening it.
He stood bend over for a while, not moving away and not moving closer either. The kiss lasted, and was nicer than he dared to admit to himself. He turned his head and kissed her more, then without breaking the kiss, he sat down on the piano bench himself, one leg on either side. He pushed her hair back, and opened his eyes as they kissed.
He watched her eyelashes, the light on her skin, and felt her breathe out against his lips. Their air bounched between their faces. He twisted her hair around his fingers like a corkscrew, and tugged gently.
"Shotgun," he murmured. When that didn't work, he said, "Shona. Shona," to make her pause the kisses and relieve the grasp on his neck.
The call of her alias got nothing out of her, and she flat out refused to pull away from him. She'd waited too long for this... But then he was calling her by her given name, and she froze, jerking away with an inhaled gasp. She hadn't realized he'd sat down, and was a little ashamed to say she hadn't. "I- I am sorry, that was out of line-" she said, already pulling herself up and away, cheeks hot with dread.
"Nonesense," Tseng said. He ran a hand over her knee again, "When you let me drive you home, invite me in, and play love songs... - I am a Turk, you know."
He smiled, and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. "We are off-duty now. Promise me this won't change anything in the office."
He kissed her other cheek.
Shona shivered yet again as his lips ghosted her cheeks, and she sat back down. Finding herself to be quite comfortable in the space between his arms, where she felt she didn't have to be on the offensive for the first time in a long while. "I can promise one and one thing only." Shona caught herself before she could say it, then forced the words from between her lips. "I think I'm in love with you, and have been for a while."
Tseng held her, but he leaned back a little too. The move pulled her a little to him even as he was trying to distance himself. "I cannot promise you much. I can give you tonight. As your boss, I can give you a day off tomorrow." He had almost forgotten how nice it was to hold a woman, and his hands gripped her white blouse, he held her. Tseng rubbed his nose over hers, brushed his lips over hers. "Not more, Shona. Not more."
There was her name again, ghosting over her own lips as he breathed against her, and she shook as she exhaled. This was a moment she wanted to last forever, not for one night! She was certain he'd just go back to their normal work- and- mission relationship from before should they give up this moment.
He kissed her again. He leaned back, and ran his hands through her hair. He kissed her again and this time it tasted fuller and deeper, as if he was lowering his walls one by one. Then suddenly he jerked his head away, looked to the side. He breathed out. It was unfair of him to manipulate her like this, especially because the girl had such a big crush on him. He ought to give her time to clear her head, and focus on what was wisest.
But he couldn't stop kissing her even though he ought to. So his hands balled to fists in her hair and he pulled her against his chest as if she weighted nothing. He mashes his lips against her and the downwards-turned corners of his mouth curved up every moment she kissed back. He felt lighter and loved for a while. Love was a tricky emotion for a Turk, but one he knew to avoid well.
Shona was well aware of the mental battle raging in him; she knew his minute expressions too well. She was shocked to the point of crying out as she was forced against him, but the cry was soon muffled by a groan as the kiss they again shared was deeper, more satisfaying than their last. Her arms again snaked around his neck, and this time, it was to anchor herself to something tangible, something in the here and now. She hissed as his hands pulled on the fragile strands of hair she so carefully tended, but she was steadily figuring out that she was a masochist.
They were in the piano room, and Tseng found out that he was able to make some music after all. He played her with a frightening expertise, and when she was hungry for his kisses, he scooped her up in his arms. He wrapped her legs around his waist, and stood up. He carried her away, stopping in the living room to press her against the wall. He grounded his hips against hers, panting now himself. He ate at her lips, then carried her onwards to the bedroom. It was easy to find - the door was open. He tossed her on the bed.
He stood wide-legged before her. He opened the buttons of his white shirt with his fingers to reveal a Kevlar bulletproof vest under it, and below that, a white sleeveless T-shirt. He shed layer by layer, pulling them over his head. He pulled weapons from his body, creating a small pile. "Last chance to object."
She squeaks at being picked up as easily as a bag of flour, and stares in utter horror as she's carried to the bedroom of all places. This was only going one way, and it sort of scared her that it was profressing so quickly. Of all people to lose her innocence to, it was going to be her boss! At least he seemed to feel the same way for her, in his own way. An odd way, but someway nonetheless.
She huffs as she's tossed on the bed, then gapes in silence as his clothes are beginning to steadily disappear to her floor. Under all that material, he was lean but built like the warrior her was always meant to be. As she was asked if she wanted to back out, she shook her head 'no' as quickly as possible. Moving to rest on her knees, she slips her own shirt over her head to meet his on the floor, again capturing his lips with hers.
Shona woke the next morning, feeling groggy and sore, but not unpleasantly so. Odd? She turned over to her back, only to be met with a solid something, and her hand was met with smooth skin. A chest. A bare chest. "The fuck?"
Tseng was awake, and it was around half past seven in the morning. Light slipped through the gaps between the curtains and created a prisonbar-like pattern over Tseng's lower body. It was light from the lantern pole outside, not from the sun. And every time a car drove by, the neatly aligned bars of shadows moved over his tighs and torso, and his face. The car passed, and Tseng breathed out. He reached up, combed his fingers trough her hair.
"Not bad for a first time," he whispered to the rookie as he put an arm over her tummy and pulled her to him.
She flinched at the sound of his voice, fully under the impression that last night had been a dream. But she was lucky for one time in her life, and it wasn't. No, her crush was actually here, and had actually... Slept with her. Turning in his hold, she stared at the rather attractive man for a moment, before snuggling into his bare chest. This was another moment she never wanted to lose. "I'm glad it was with you, Tseng," she replied, finally dropping the sir.
"Mmm," he replied, as if it were the start of a reply like 'me too.' It was better to learn to do this now, than on a mission. He held her a little tighter, pressing her naked body against his. She was much smaller and much softer. He rolled on top of her, and kissed her cheek, her forehead. "I shall get up soon. Traffic will be monsterous at this distance from Headquarters."
She canted her head at his response, and shivered as the cold air from her house hit her chest when he leaned away to speak. Shona was more than happy to stay here all day, but she knew it wouldn't last. She knew their night wouldn't last. So, she nodded in reply, kissing his check once before winding her arms around his neck and breathing in his rich scent once more. "Shower's just off to the right, closet is the door on the left," she said, in reply to him leaving.
"Thank you."
He let go of her, and sat up. With his fingers he combed his black manes towards his shoulders. Then he got up. He went to the shower, showered cold, to return exactly three minutes later. He dressed, and armed up. Five minutes after he had left the bed, he looked clean as ever.
"Shona, I am sorry: I cannot allow a relationship in my life. I hope you will be discreet about our night together. If you want, you can take today off?"
Well, she was going to need the day off after that bombshell. But she didn't want him to think her weak, as others had thought of her after she showed them as much emotion as she had shown him the night before. "No, thank you sir, but I must decline," she said, standing and pulling the sheet with her to the bathroom, also showering quickly and dressing. When she finished, she expected to be alone in the house.
And she was.
Yoooo, part three! As always, I don't own anything, and my partners own the ideas.
