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 7
"Well, that didn't go well."
They returned to ShinRa headquarters, now walking into Rufus's office when Regina had said that---remarking on what had followed earlier. Messy, should be the right adjective.
She was tired, as if watching the movers had tired her out; like she had been the one moving house herself. And Regina allows herself a sigh; being the President's personal confidant (as she was she was now seeing all that) had put her at enough ease to express that much.
She noted the President's countenance—his general attitude as she joined him at his desk; it was remarkable, how he could be so unaffected and calm, as if nothing had happened. Business as usual.
"If you don't mind me asking, sir," she's emboldened. "You don't seem so concerned."
"That's because I'm not," he said, taking a seat and pulling out the work that had piled on his desk---work orders that needed his signature and approval, a whole committee to oversee…
She's quiet.
Rufus glanced up from his paperwork and clarifies himself without her asking. "Given time, she'll come around to the idea. She's just..."
Here, he can't help but sigh a little—tired; pursuing Elena, he conceded, had exhausted him somewhat. He had assumed it would've been easier, but…she had given chase…
"Confused," he finally decides. "She's overwhelmed. You know, etcetera, etcetera."
He waves it off, dismisses it and tells her, "That's the details. But, I'm a patient man and determined."
Determined…
And Regina wonders aloud, "Oh, why is that?"
Why did this one matter? Her question implied.
How did this pursuit differ from any of those numerous others? Why was the President willing to expend his time and energy?
It didn't make any sense.
Rufus Shinra, she figures, has enough money and influence to make small details, the pregnancy and such, disappear. So why bother?
"One of among several many offenses I held against my father…" Rufus began to explain. "Was that he had my brother."
He stops, considering.
Then he looked up---a cool vindictiveness there, and asked, "Can you imagine that? A bastard child of a ShinRa president. Have you heard of such a thing?" And there was such callousness in his voice; as if saying that aloud had made his father's transgression all the more pronounced; all the poignant.
He was looking at her, and she suddenly realizes that this wasn't a rhetorical question. So she gives him an answer--the one he wants to hear:
"No sir, I don't suppose I have."
There were some secrets—the inner workings of the powerful, for instance—Regina doesn't want to be involved with; she doesn't want to change or challenge it, because challenging something you didn't truly understand would've been near suicidal in this instance.
But still…
Regina's line of questioning had unwittingly sparked something; and Rufus couldn't help ponder, tapping his pen against his lip idly; was it true what he just said? Was that the only reason why?
And he had given thought to it before.
He turned his chair away from Regina to face the glass window that looked out on his city—because really, this was his city.
And sure, marrying her had the added benefit of ensuring that mistake wouldn't occur again. But all that was in additionto what had truly mattered; Rufus reached into his breast pocket, retrieving the photograph from earlier—his hand tracing over the flat rendition, the lines that made up the details of her face.
And Rufus asked himself, glancing out to consider the city that they (those children) would inherit---he asked, had it been any other woman besides her, would he have care so much?
The truth was, probably not.
Elena flexed her toes in her borrowed socks; and she stretches in these borrowed pajamas that were one size too large for her; the shoulder area falls off one side---she has to constantly adjust it---for modesty's sake.
Nothing fit her all too right because nothing was hers to begin with; all that had been hauled away.
But still…
She's grateful; grateful that she doesn't have to spend the night in as impersonal a space as a motel room; grateful that she had this time to relax—no matter how short; and, most of all, she was grateful for the company, even if she couldn't talk about what really bothered her. At this thought, she looked over to the kitchen area where said company was currently mixing margaritas, grinding the ice noisily in a blender….
Reno winked at her from the kitchen, looking just as relaxed in a white long sleeve shirt and those bedtime shorts with innuendos drawn all over them; his pale—bleached white, skinny legs sticking out, awkward and lanky (she had never seen them so exposed before). Whatever he lacked in grace though, he made up in an overwhelming sense of confidence and quirkiness; walking over to her now, and handing her the drinks.
"Thank you, Reno." She smiles warmly at him.
"Any time, babe," he said, joining her---sitting down with his legs splayed out on the white furred rug in the middle of his living room. The whole place had a decided kitsch-y feel to it; not excluding this extravagant rug whose short hair felt luxuriant beneath her fingertips---and bouncy too.
He had gotten a fire started for them, closed the drape so that the room filled with a rosy red, orange-y color, warm (romantic) and, had she not known Reno, she would've thought that he was trying to seduce her.
But she did know him, and knew that this was just his way of playing around.
Gosh woman, do you have to act like a guy all the time?
His eyes looked her over, noting, "You know, Elena. You look very sexy wearing my pajamas."
"Shut up," she tossed back, laughing, knowing he was teasing her again.
"No. I'm serious. You pull off that pouty tomboy look really well." He licked his lips to emphasis his point; taking noticed how she was playing with the fur of the rug between her fingers, and getting an evil thought; asking her lasciviously. "You like it?"
"Huh?"
"That's real fur, yo. See…we can roll around in it," he said, putting down his glass; then illustrating his point by rubbing his face against the rug, and rubbing his body along it in a sensuous manner. "Do all kinds of stuff. Nasty stuff. Dirty stuff..."
Had Elena not hung out with him for so long (been one of the boys for so long), it would've made her blushed. As it was, it just had her laughing in all the right ways.
"Anything you like, baby, I can deliver," he said, going to her, purring. "I could be your pillow if you like."
Elena wrinkled her nose and pushed him away, playful. "Ew, gross. If this is your skills when it comes to seducing women, I think you should rethink your gameplan."
But Reno had just rebounded when she pushed him, and was suddenly all up on her, knocking her over and getting atop her like an excited dog. "Come on, darling," he said, "Kiss me, yo."
He leaned down then and tried to kiss her---succeeding in planting two sloppy kisses on her cheeks before she managed to place her knee under his stomach and dislodge him, in between fits of laughter. "Ewww…get off me, Reno."
"Aw fine," he pouted, sitting back on his haunches.
Then he frowned, "You're telling me, you didn't come all the way over here to seduce me, yo? I can tell you were trying to get into my pants."
"Oh, Reno," he began, falsetto voice, trying to imitate her appearance from earlier (when she had shown up at his place looking like a lost puppy). "Some thugs broke into my place and took all my things. I got nowhere else to go. Can I stay at your place for the night?" Normal voice. "If that's not a 'let's get freaky invitation,' I don't know what is."
She laughed, disbelieving how determined he was with this, "No, no no. I was robbed. Seriously."
She emphasis her next point, stressing, "Believe me, I didn't come here looking to have sex with you."
"Fine," He sighed, settling back; done with teasing her for the moment. "Least I offered."
Sure, he flirted with her, but it was all in good jest. She was more like a little sister to him than anything; after all, he had been the one to show her the ropes when she was merely a 'baby' Turk starting out and all confused; Reno glanced at her, deciding, yeah, she's definitely changed. Matured a bit.
He can't lie. It had crossed his mind once are twice in the past; and, yeah, if she reciprocated than maybe…
I supposed it would've been a different story…but…oh wells…
As it was, Reno liked their relationship; wouldn't trade it for anything.
"So, uh, Elena," he started, clearing his throat—his way of starting out a serious discussion; she took notice and turn slightly, to eye him, wary. "You have something you wanna say to me---you should just say it, yo."
"What?"
Did he know?
Reno leaned on his elbow and raised his eyebrows, expectant. He knew something was off, but he doesn't know exactly what…
The latest shuffling in the ShinRa corporate gossip mill was that something big was happening; starting from the very top of the executive food-chain going all the way to the bottom rung. And no one knew what it was.
But Reno had been observant; at least, observant enough to notice that at that a lot of the shuffling—the unease of which--seemed to center on one particular person…
Elena.
And now, he was waiting for her to come out with it (voluntarily), because he was much more than a coworker—he figured; he was her comrade; and because, he'd figured he'd earn as much from her.
There was that hesitation. Elena bit her bottom lip, debating whether or not she could…
What that would've risk…
Reno wouldn't believe her.
"You managed to do what?!" She could imagine him, bugged-eyed at her confession: The president?! A little tomboy like her.
But, she thinks, looking down, I didn't set out to do anything like that. It just sort happened.
"Nothing," she settles; because it's easier---though she's dying for a soul to confide in. Unlike Rufus, who had no qualms about revealing their relationship to an assistant (an assistant!), she couldn't even tell her friend; not when she hadn't decided what to do---and because she knew Rufus would've wanted it on his own terms; that by admitting aloud that she was having his child, somehow negating 'choice' when it came to marrying him—it felt like that was the reality of it.
And she wasn't sure she was ready to give up that choice just yet…
"Nothing? You sure?" he asked, giving her a last chance; one last lifeline. His eyebrows arch. Come on, Elena. Reach for it.
And she looks at him, tempted; but then looks away.
He shrugged. "Don't tell me."
"There's nothing to tell."
She's a horrible liar. Years of being a Turk still hadn't changed that; too honest; still too naïve. But these were the same traits that made her endearing…
Reno wasn't one to dwell on things too long and he saw that her mood had shifted—now all downcast. He changed the subject. "Well, can't say I didn't try. So what do you want to do tonight if you didn't want to get freaky?"
He was trying to be light again; and she was glad for it.
"Mmmm…" Elena considered, and then offered, "How about popcorn and a movie?"
