Dionne moved slowly towards the bed, her neutral expression stalling as she looked at Elena properly. Her eyes that were so reminiscent of Elena's became glassy as the extent of her sister's situation sunk in. This clearly was not what she had been expecting, Tseng thought.
Tseng rose from his seat and gestured for the former Turk to sit. Without waiting for a response, he crossed the room to retrieve another chair that was in the far corner. When he returned, Dionne was standing close to the bed, looking down at Elena with an emotional intensity he had rarely witnessed in her as a Turk. She had always been sternly professional and highly competent, carrying out her orders as though it were all so effortless to her. Tseng had consequently had a lot of faith in her. Liked her, even. Dionne had never really been one to fit in, though. She would spend her free time elsewhere, rarely socialise with her colleagues, and generally keep herself at arm's length from her immediate co-workers.
He found himself wondering what she must have been like as a sister. Tseng knew that she and Elena did not see eye to eye and they had, once or twice, come to blows when Dionne had still been a Turk and Elena a trainee. It seemed at the time that Elena was the only one capable of cracking Dionne's otherwise impenetrable wall of composure; when it came to disagreements with anyone else, Dionne would usually utter a few terse words and walk away, but that was not so with Elena. Tseng could well imagine that, as siblings, they knew very well which buttons to push in order to rile the other. Elena he knew had something of a complex about her sister outdoing her. Dionne, on the other hand, had never appeared outwardly competitive. She simply did her job, and she did it better than most. Casting his mind back a few days, he recalled the conversation he had had with Elena about Dionne's wedding; the deflated, hurt look on Elena's face as she relayed to him that she wasn't invited, and that her sister had only told her she was getting married the day before.
Tseng watched as Dionne gripped the bed guard firmly and realised the tight feeling mounting in his chest was discontentment, of a sharper nature than he had really expected. Whilst he reminded himself that he was still somewhat out of kilter after the events of the past few days, and he was probably subject to more heightened emotions as a result, there was no denying the fact that he felt protective towards Elena in light of her family's unsympathetic behaviour towards her. It would have been inhuman not to, he thought, especially now when Elena was so vulnerable and unable to stand up for herself.
"Elena?" Dionne muttered cautiously, reaching out to touch her but she hesitated before her fingertips could make contact. It was difficult to find an area that was unscathed enough to touch, even if Elena wasn't in a position to complain. "What happened?"
Tseng waited a few seconds before answering, his demeanour unaccommodating. "A mission didn't quite go to plan."
"Well, that much is obvious," Dionne replied shortly. "Let me guess – I'm out of the old boys' club so you're not going to tell me."
"Something like that," Tseng pulled his lips into an empty smile as he spoke. Dionne locked her gaze with his in that way she did when she was not planning on relenting. "We got our hands on something someone else wanted. Badly," he explained. "We were captured and tortured." She probably had a right to know the outline, he reasoned with himself.
Dionne swallowed and returned her gaze to Elena. Tseng thought that her hardness had declined over the years, even if she was clearly trying to contain her emotions. In fact, he would have been more disconcerted had she been as controlled as she was attempting to be. He noticed her eyes lingering on the bandage around his head. No doubt she thought he had got off lightly.
For a short while the only sounds in the room were of the machines keeping Elena alive and the occasional, hushed chatter of the two nurses in the administration area.
"Who told you?" Tseng asked. He was curious to know, since Rude had given him the impression that only her parents had been contacted; that no one had spoken to Dionne. Which could only mean one thing.
"My um, our father called me," Dionne replied, sniffing discreetly. She lowered herself slowly onto the chair, not once taking her eyes off Elena. "He said someone from a hospital in Healin had got in touch about Elena – that she wasn't in a good way. You might think me heartless, Tseng, but I wasn't going to sit sunning myself on the Costa del Sol after hearing that."
"Your honeymoon?" Tseng queried, eyes glistening with something akin to disdain. "I believe congratulations are in order." Dionne nodded, swallowing as she finally dared to allow her fingers to rest tentatively on her sister's hand, careful to avoid disturbing the tubes and dressings.
"So she told you," Dionne grimaced, glancing at Tseng. "Of course she did. Never could keep her mouth shut."
Tseng cocked his head a fraction to one side, expression far from amused. "Actually, I asked," he corrected her flatly. Dionne shifted in her seat and dropped her eyes as she realised that Tseng had not lost his authoritative touch, even if she was no longer his subordinate. A guilty expression crept onto her face as she looked at Elena, as though she expected her to react. But Elena remained as she was, eyes closed, her hand relaxed under Dionne's tentative grip. It seemed wrong that she and Tseng were talking over Elena so frankly, and it was clear that both of them felt it when their eyes met once more.
"Look," Dionne began, "I know you probably think I'm a right bitch, but I still care about her. We haven't always seen eye to eye, sure, but… she's still my sister."
"You know that I don't like to interfere," Tseng said, in a way that suggested he would be making an exception to that habit. In fact, his tone was loaded with implications and Dionne had always been sharp on the uptake.
"You have no idea how much I wanted her to be at the wedding. In recent months… we've been getting on a little better. The occasional phone call, birthday cards etcetera."
"But?" Tseng raised an eyebrow. Dionne sighed and sat back in her chair. She looked miserable, her cheeks flushed enough to rival the brilliant red of her loose silk blouse.
"Things aren't so straightforward," she shook her head. "Our parents—"
"Yes, where are they, by the way?" Tseng interrupted.
"You can't hold me responsible for their choices, Tseng," Dionne replied firmly. "Believe me, I don't like it any more than you do."
Tseng hesitated, expression reluctantly softening a little. There was an honesty in her face, in her voice, that he couldn't ignore no matter how much he might have been inclined to. He met her gaze. Fair enough, he conceded with a drawn out blink of his eyes. Dionne tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. It was longer than she used to wear it, pushed back behind her head into a makeshift bun. Physically, she and Elena were very alike, even in their facial gestures. Elena might have been a little easier to read than Dionne but, for the occasional fleeting moment, Tseng could almost trick himself that it was Elena sitting across from him.
"As you probably know, her joining Shinra didn't go down well with our parents," Dionne continued, relaxing a little. Every so often, her eyes would switch to Elena's face. "They're very old fashioned and they're used to having to keep up appearances in their social circles – Junon high society hasn't exactly moved into this century yet. Keeping up with the Joneses is what they do best. And so they wanted the best of both worlds; a daughter with a glittering career – me – and a daughter who marries into a well-to-do family – Elena. The ironic thing is… I never—" Dionne broke off, taking a deep breath. "I never wanted a high-flying career. The Turks… it was just a job to me. Nothing more. I was good at it because I threw myself into the work. If I hadn't I would probably have had a breakdown. My husband is an ex-SOLDIER – we met whilst I was a Turk and we… well," she cleared her throat, clearly deciding to skip over the details. "With time, I realised that I wanted to settle down – to stop having to constantly look over my shoulder, to stop putting my life second to Shinra's needs. I wanted more from life than isolation and dirty work. I'm not the kind of person who lives to work – it's not me." Dionne released a deep sigh, as though she were relieved to have got that off her chest. Tseng judged by the way she kept looking at Elena that these were things Dionne wanted her younger sister to know; things that she had left unsaid until now.
"I never would have been able to go through what she has to protect Shinra's secrets," she admitted, struggling to hold Tseng's gaze. "My heart wasn't in it the way hers is. No doubt you think less of me because of that, but there came a point where I realised I wasn't prepared to die for the Company. And that's when I knew I had to go – you had my resignation the day after, in fact." An earnestness had crept into her voice. "Elena always thought I went out of my way to outdo her when, really, that wasn't my intention at all. I was hard on her, yes – because I knew how good she could be. She responded well when I told her she wasn't good enough; she'd go the extra mile to make sure she was. When I quit, I knew it wouldn't be long before she made it into the Turks – if I did nothing else for her, I made her hell bent on being a better Turk than me."
Tseng looked at Elena, his eyes drawn to the dressing covering the bullet wound in her chest; a reminder of the fact that she had risked her life for him, and for the mission. If it wasn't for her, he could well be dead and the Remnants could easily have obtained Jenova back at the Crater. It was certain, however, that there was no way they would have escaped from the observation base if Elena had not managed to free first herself, and then him, despite the torture she had endured. And there was little doubt in to his mind what would have happened had they remained there. Elena was as good a Turk as he could ever hope to work with. But he also knew that, to him, she was an awful lot more than that.
"I have to admit your resignation came as a surprise," Tseng replied, breaking from his thoughts. "You were always so… dedicated. But having said that," he reconsidered. "I never did think your heart was in it. But then the Turks isn't really a group for those who wear their heart on their sleeve. Some might even go as far as to say that the General Affairs Department isn't a place for those who have a heart at all."
Dionne released a short laugh.
"In answer to your assumption that I might think less of you," Tseng continued. "I actually think it takes a certain amount of nerve to be able to look at oneself honestly and realise where your limits lie. Most in our profession like to think they have none." He straightened in his chair and uncrossed his legs. "I was, however, a little surprised that you accepted Shinra's 'terms of departure'." His eyes darted pointedly to Elena and back again.
Dionne's gaze once again fell upon the floor. Turks were privy to the most damaging of Company secrets, and considering Shinra was the sort of enterprise to wipe whole towns off the map when it came to a convincing cover up, it was an unspoken rule that Turks did not simply walk away from their jobs. Many did not live long enough to quit, whilst those who did were usually sufficiently bribed and blackmailed – the latter more so than the former – into silence. Shinra's version of an Official Secrets Act came in the form of an unsigned execution order in the Turk leader's bottom desk drawer, which could be retrieved and signed if it was suspected that a former employee was even considering selling information.
"Heidegger might have liked to refer to Elena as my 'insurance policy' when he was informed I was resigning," Dionne replied quietly, "but it's a 'policy' Shinra will never be cashing in on. You know as well as I do – and you knew it then – that I would never leak any information. Not when it would cost her her life – and probably me mine."
"And supposing someone came after you, having found out who you were?" Tseng raised an eyebrow. "It has happened. Albeit once."
"That particular Turk was careless," Dionne replied, her eyes boring into his. "What do you expect if you go around bragging about your glory days as a Turk? Besides," she went on, "the Turks isn't exactly a high profile group so it's not likely that anyone's going to come looking for me with the intention of prising the finer points of Shinra's dirty past from my lips. You rewrote my record yourself – as far as most people are concerned, I worked in Urban Planning. And even if they did, don't think for a minute that I've allowed myself to become rusty. You know that I'm far from careless, Tseng."
Tseng's face lightened into an unsurprised smile. "I do," he gave a nod. Dionne nodded also, as though satisfied that she had got her point across. For a moment, Tseng felt sorry for her; having to come to Healin to find her sister in intensive care, and having to rake over and justify elements of her past and present that she would probably rather have left alone for the time being. However, a question sprang to mind that he could not help but follow through.
"Do your parents know about it?" he asked, his tone a little more gentle than before. But just a little. "That Elena is the reason you were allowed to leave so easily?"
Dionne sighed. "It has come up in one or two family arguments," she nodded. "Elena came to see them not long after she was promoted to the Turks. I think she thought that maybe she had a chance of reconciling with them once things had worked out more or less as they wanted. They only let her in to save embarrassing themselves by arguing in front of the house," Dionne shook her head. "A lot was said – none of it very nice – and I remember my father saying to her that she should be more like me; that she should learn to respect them. Elena lost it at that point, and told them about how it was that I was allowed to leave the Turks so easily."
Tseng raised an eyebrow, urging Dionne to continue. Admittedly he felt marginally uncomfortable delving into Elena's private life – and Dionne's, for that matter – but after all that had happened he could not deny that he was virtually overcome by the desire to know what could possibly justify Elena's parents not being prepared to come to the hospital. He was rather taken aback that Dionne was being so forthcoming when she had always been such a private person, but he supposed the current situation with Elena had something to do with it. And it seemed she was almost grateful for the opportunity to talk things over. He did not doubt that she was the sort of person who bottled things in and allowed them to ferment to the point that something had to give.
"He slapped her," Dionne said quietly. "Told her not to be so poisonous, and that she was only saying it because she was jealous of me. I didn't tell them before because… well, I suppose I was ashamed that Elena was my get-out clause – ashamed that I allowed her to accept Shinra's terms. And I suppose I also was in denial – I refused to see her as my so-called insurance policy because I knew that I would never sell information, so in many ways the whole thing just felt unreal. I set my father straight, of course. He went quiet for a few days, and then carried on as though nothing had happened." Dionne trailed off, looking almost bewildered. "So yes," she cleared her throat, the strength returning to her voice. "They know. For all the good it's done. Elena hasn't seen them since. Our parents are both too proud to just give in, to accept that things didn't quite go as they'd wished, and move on. They're just… not like that."
Dionne sat forward in her chair and smoothed a hand over her face. Tseng had never seen her look so unhappy.
"You know, Elena was so determined to join the Turks," Dionne breathed, and it was clear from her face that she was reminiscing in her mind. "She wanted to serve the Shinra Company she believed in, to fulfil her sense of duty. She'll never say as much but she was so proud that our father worked for the military academy, and I think it inspired her to do something similar. A couple of years after she joined Shinra, when she was making progress in the Security Department, I realised we could… 'swap', if you like. I could take on the life our parents wanted for her, and she could take on mine. It seemed like the perfect solution only, in our parents' eyes, it wasn't so simple. I mean, I had thought it might take them a while to come round but… for Elena, that never happened."
Tseng had always known how set Elena had been on joining the Turks. And, during their conversation the other day, he had discovered just what price she had paid for it.
"So they accepted your decision to leave Shinra?"
Dionne shook her head. "Not straight away but they came round in time. After all, I'd been at Shinra for a good number of years, and I didn't leave under a cloud. When they found out my now-husband is reasonably well connected… well, they were pleased. They just never forgave Elena. In their own way, I think they're proud of her but… they'll never forget that she 'embarrassed' them by going against their wishes. But it's more than that," Dionne added, eyes glazing over as she seemed to recall something.
"I suppose… as children, I was always the favourite. I did as I was told, and I did well at what I was told to do. Elena," she shook her head. "Elena didn't go out of her way to annoy them, she just didn't go along with things she really didn't want to do. So she ended up the black sheep, by no real fault of her own. As she fell out of favour with our parents, the divide between us also widened. She got it into her head that I was better than her, I suppose because, in our parents' eyes, I was. She became jealous and competitive… and yes, at times I hated her – not as a person, but because she had it so wrong about me having the perfect life. If anything, I used to envy how strong she was – that she had the guts to go for what she wanted regardless of our parents. I never could. It was easier to go with the flow, even if I also did actually believe in being loyal to our parents. Sure, they might be misguided but we never wanted for anything as children. They honestly believe they did their best for us and… well," Dionne shrugged. "I'll always stand by them, even if I don't agree with every decision they make."
Dionne broke off as a nurse appeared and smiled briefly to both of them. She fetched out the folder at the end of the bed and began writing in between glancing up at the various monitors.
"Even if that means going against what you want in favour of placating them?" Tseng asked.
"I know I've let Elena down," Dionne conceded. "I should have been stronger – I should have stuck up for her more, and I should have invited her to the wedding regardless. I guess I'm just not made that way – that's probably why I made such a good Shinra lapdog. I did what I was told to the letter."
"You should probably have that conversation with Elena," Tseng replied. Curious or not, he wasn't going to wade too far into what was, first and foremost, something that was Dionne and Elena's personal business. Elena was the one who needed to hear those words, not him.
"I know," Dionne agreed, shifting her chair back slightly so the nurse could pass between her and the bed in order to continue making her checks and observations. "And it's wrong that it's taken something like this to happen for me to get round to it. Things are going to change, Tseng. It's not an ideal world and there's no easy solution to all of this but… when I said that I believe in standing by our parents, I don't mean to imply that I won't stand by Elena, too."
Their gaze met for an intense moment, where both of them seemed to be thinking the exact same thought. If she makes it through this, that is.
The nurse slotted the folder back into its place at the end of the bed, cast her eyes briefly over Elena once more as if to make sure that everything was as it should be, and left.
"It's ironic, you know. Elena was always so insecure about being outdone by me all the time," Dionne began, her eyes still fixed on Tseng's face. Something told him that she was going somewhere with what seemed like just a passing thought spoken out loud. "At heart, I felt it was really the other way around – and in more ways than one," Dionne looked knowingly at Tseng, a mildly suggestive expression on her face.
"Meaning?" Tseng asked, inwardly unsettled by the challenging glint in her eyes.
Dionne smiled. "Well, firstly as a Turk, and secondly she's always gone her own way regardless of any pressure to do otherwise." Tseng was now convinced Dionne was working up to something. Her tone was just a little too relaxed, as though what she had just said was only the opening line to a more damning revelation. She was looking at Tseng intently.
"Thirdly – now, don't get me wrong," Dionne continued. "I'm a happily married woman, but there was a time when I thought you were… charming. It seems my little sister here has made considerably more of an impression on you than I did, though."
Tseng stiffened ever so slightly, which was in no way an adequate reflection of the way his stomach clenched. The idea that Dionne had had an interest in him came as something of a surprise but it was not enough of one to rock the proverbial boat. The fact that she had picked up on his feelings for Elena, however, was not something Tseng had reckoned with and he found himself suddenly rather uneasy. Perhaps he ought to of have seen it coming; Dionne could easily have seen him holding Elena's hand before she came in and she had obviously jumped to all the right conclusions. He considered himself lucky that it had not been Reno, Rude or even worse, Rufus. The last thing he needed just yet was a bombardment of question marks over his professionalism as a Turk, which involvement with Elena would almost certainly cause. There was no telling what the reaction would be to the news that the Turk Director had a thing for a junior Turk. He would have to be more careful until he was ready to deal with the implications of anyone else finding out.
"You know, I was thinking earlier, Tseng, that that shirt does nothing for your complexion," Dionne remarked wryly. "But it seems the colour's miraculously returned to your face, so I take it back; navy looks good on you." There was now absolutely no mistaking what she was referring to, and clearly she knew he had interpreted her correctly. "I've always known you to be protective of your Turks," Dionne continued when Tseng said nothing, her voice deepening with earnestness. "But with her… it's different, isn't it?"
There was no point in denying it, Tseng decided. Dionne was no longer his subordinate and, as such, he could not dismiss her with one of his trademark glares and instruct her to forget whatever nonsense she was thinking. Had she been anyone else, and were this any other time, however, he might well have tried. "Yes," he gave in, eyes locking onto Dionne's.
Had his feelings really been so clear when he had fought Elena's corner with Dionne? Was it so obvious that it was more than just a professional courtesy for his gravely injured partner? Reno would probably have done the same, he thought, and would she have jumped to the same conclusion with him? Of course not, Tseng chided himself. Because the simple matter is… you're not Reno. As he had said himself earlier, he did not usually like to interfere and he had done precisely that, which was possibly sufficient evidence that he cared enough about Elena to cast his usual professional habits to one side. Reno, on the other hand, could not have given two hoots about whether he trampled over more personal, sensitive ground if it meant defending a fellow Turk, so no one would have thought anything of it had he been in Tseng's shoes.
But Tseng did not regret that he had said what he had in Elena's defence. In fact, to do otherwise would have been more than regrettable.
"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," Dionne reassured him. Apparently she knew him better than he gave her credit for.
Tseng allowed himself a vague smirk. This was the second time in only a short period that yet another former Turk was second-guessing him. He really was going to have to be more careful in the coming days.
"Although I will say that I'm glad," Dionne went on, a contented warmth in her eyes. "God knows, she's had a thing for you for who knows how long." Apparently, Dionne also knew her sister rather better than Elena gave her credit for.
Tseng wondered for a moment why it was that his feelings had become so visible. He had been successfully keeping a lid on them for long enough prior to that afternoon when he had kissed Elena. Come to think of it, why had he allowed them to overrun him on that day in the first place? Because she was upset and he wanted to comfort her? Because every day was becoming a trial when it came to not showing any emotion towards her and that day had just brought things to a head? Because every time she brushed against him or made casual physical contact that he would barely have noticed were it from anyone else, he had to resist the urge to just hold her there, or pull her into him, and there came a point when he couldn't resist any longer? Then there was the fact that he had nearly lost her, and still could. He had been helpless to do anything other than watch as the brothers had their way with her, helpless to do anything when she had taken a bullet for him. Not to mention that he had physically been through the mill himself, which had taken more out of him than he had really realised. What human being, Turk or not, could have pulled off an act of indifference after all of that? Still, though, he was annoyed with himself for allowing not one, but two former colleagues of his to pick up on his feelings for Elena so easily. Note to self: keep away from Turks – former or present – when you've had your head bashed in by the Science Department's failed experiments.
"I should leave you some time alone," Tseng said levelly, rising from his seat. The room swam a little but, thankfully, not as much as it had done when he had first got out of bed that afternoon. He glanced at his watch; it was now evening.
"It was a lucky guess, Tseng," Dionne replied, looking up at him intently. Apologetically, even. Clearly she had not intended to unsettle him.
The corners of his mouth tightened, pulling his face into a more amicable expression. It was not quite a smile, but then Tseng felt he did not really have it in him to smile just then. Worry and concern for Elena appeared to have drained any positive energy from him. "It's all right," he shook his head softly.
"I know you like to think that you shouldn't feel things like most of us do – or at least, that a man in your position shouldn't let it show – but you're not a robot."
"Oh," Tseng replied, a knowing expression on his face, "I know I'm not a robot, believe me. Sometimes, though, certain things would be a lot simpler if I were." He stepped closer to the bed and looked down at Elena, daring to allow his fingers to make contact with her right forearm, which was supported on a pillow wedged between her body and the bed guard. "But then…" he reconsidered, "what kind of existence would that be?"
Dionne looked up at him from her sitting position. Something in her eyes – a sadness coupled with regret – made Tseng think that she had tried it. It would somewhat explain her almost mechanical efficiency as a Turk.
"Not a very pleasant one," she replied, blinking a few times. Tseng stood there a couple of seconds longer, then took a step back from the bed, his fingers reluctant to part with Elena's skin, his eyes reluctant to leave her face.
"You know," Tseng began, stopping mid-pivot. He might not have been smiling but there was a vague humour in his dark eyes. "Reno will be dreadfully disappointed."
Dionne was quick to catch on. "All that flirting was never serious?" she frowned.
Tseng merely raised a teasing eyebrow. When Reno had first joined the Turks, he had made no secret of his interest in Elena's older sister. "Oh, I don't know."
Dionne laughed and swatted a dismissive hand. Tseng was about to turn, when Dionne spoke.
"Look after yourself, Tseng," she said. "And who knows – maybe see you soon."
Tseng nodded to her. "Maybe."
-x-
It was a guilty kind of enjoyment, really. Elena could tell herself that she took great pleasure in pushing Dionne to the limits of her self-control but there was no denying the distinct undercurrent of uncertainty that always accompanied their verbal sparring, or the bitter aftertaste that followed. She was just mindful that any sense of doubt remained an undercurrent, and nothing more. Sometimes there was nothing more satisfying than bulldozing Dionne's self-satisfied composure, especially when the Turk always took great pleasure in mocking Elena's tendency to be over-emotional and impulsive. Well, touché, Elena smirked to herself as Dionne's voice raised to a pitch that was distinctly outside the range of controlled. Today, any vague notion of guilt Elena might have experienced at punching below the belt was quite positively quashed by sheer anger.
"Do you have to be so infuriating?" Dionne ranted, flinging her hands out before her, fingers splayed. "I mean, how hard is it to have a civil conversation with you?"
Elena folded her arms and pushed herself away from the row of lockers she had been leaning against. Dionne was standing on the other side of the bench in the middle of the side section of the locker room. "You mean, why can't I just do as you tell me?" Elena snorted, moving so that she was standing closer to her sister. Dionne said nothing but folded her arms also and shifted her weight into a more defiant stance. Elena continued coming until she was virtually standing nose to nose with her. Whenever they argued, which was about all they ever did when they saw each other, Elena always found herself resenting that her sister was a few inches taller than her. A bit of extra height would have made things so much more intense. Elena dropped her gaze for a moment, then glared at her sister as a contemptuous smile played on her lips. "I leave that kind of thing to you – after all, you're good at doing as you're told, aren't you?" Her voice was little more than a whisper but ten times as hard-hitting.
Dionne raised her chin so that she was looking down at Elena from an even greater advantage. Elena saw the flicker of anger in her face, in her eyes, but Dionne appeared to be making an effort to restrain herself. Well, Elena mused to herself, there's time yet.
"Swap your shift," Dionne said slowly, enunciating every word. She levelled her gaze at Elena, reversing her previous move of widening the difference in height. "If you go to that charity function tonight in any other capacity than as a social call, they'll disown you," Dionne continued. "Publicly, in front of everyone. Someone will look at you and ask them if that isn't their younger daughter, working in Shinra's Security Department – how did she end up there of all places?" Dionne cocked her head, her voice feigning surprise as she slipped into the role of some pretentious aristocrat. Elena thought she was all too reminiscent of their mother. "And they'll deny it," she said flatly, suddenly Dionne once more. "Deny that it's you – that you're their daughter. Is that what you want?"
Elena swallowed. Shinra's annual charity function was the perfect opportunity for her to rack up some experience of working a large-scale event. Her captain had handpicked her to be there, not minding the door or patrolling somewhere else away from the thick of it all, but actually in the convention hall amongst the guests. And he had selected only ten out of the numerous hopeful security officers. Needless to say, Elena was not keen on the idea of passing up the role simply because her well-to-do parents were on the guest list. According to Dionne, they attended every year.
"I'm only thinking of you, believe it or not," Dionne sighed, straightening her uniform tie. "Just swap your shift and you won't even have to be there."
"You mean you're thinking of yourself," Elena replied bitterly, if also rather quietly. "What, did our mother tell you to make sure I wouldn't embarrass them?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Dionne frowned condescendingly. "How would she even know you're going to be there?"
"Oh please, I know you report back to them like you did when we were at school," Elena snapped, mirroring her sister's expression. Dionne sighed, rolling her eyes as if to say that she wasn't in the mood to be having that particular argument for the umpteenth time just now.
"They have no idea," she said, placing a hand on her hip. "But obviously they'll see you in there, and the first thing they will really see is that uniform," Dionne nodded to Elena, who was dressed in a fitted white t-shirt and the blue slacks of Shinra's Security Department. She was in the final months of her training to become a Turk and worked at the same time in the Security Department, gaining experience and earning a regular income. When she had left home a couple of years ago and applied to Shinra, she had been advised to take a job in the Security Department in order to complement her Turk training, which was less intense that it would have been had there been any vacancies in the General Affairs Department. Once she completed her training, she would be put on 'standby', meaning she would be considered for the job only when a vacancy became available. "And let's face it," Dionne shrugged, "it's not exactly the most prestigious position, working in Shinra Security."
Elena felt the breath catch in her throat. Somehow, it always took the wind from her sails when Dionne resorted to snobbery, and she always did eventually. Elena had been warming to the idea that Dionne really did have her interests at heart when she told her not to be on duty at the function; that her older sister was trying to protect her feelings. But of course that wasn't the case. Elena could have kicked herself for overlooking the fact that Dionne just knew which heartstrings to jerk; namely that Elena, deep down, wanted her parents to accept her decision to train as a Turk. To be proud of her, even.
"You know, that's what I've always loved about you," Elena replied, nodding quickly and managing a weak smile. "Always so supportive and encouraging. I have to work to put myself through training – not like you, who had it all paid for by Mummy and Daddy. You're nothing more than a spoiled brat who likes throwing her weight around. Well, fuck you, Dionne. I'll go just to make you squirm when they ask you what the hell I'm doing there. Explain your way out of that one."
Elena was fairly sure that the hurt was visible in her face; Dionne was always keen to point out how emotionally transparent she was. And as much as Elena could barely resist lashing out at Dionne, it was usually a telltale sign her sister had touched a nerve, or at the very least got under her skin.
"Oh, do what you like," Dionne shook her head, turning slightly and stepping to the side. "You usually do without any regard for anyone else, least of all our parents. But don't say that I didn't warn you, or that I didn't try to look out for you."
"Don't pretend you're doing this for me," Elena replied sourly. "You've never given a rat's ass about my feelings, so don't think I'm going to believe you suddenly do now."
"Grow up, Elena," Dionne retorted dismissively. "Maybe then we can have a proper conversation." She hesitated, lips parted as though she were yet to finish. "And perhaps," she said, her voice not quite as self-confident as it had been a moment ago, "perhaps it wouldn't do you any harm to give a 'rat's ass' about our parents' feelings for once."
Elena, now thoroughly pissed off, decided she was justified in firing whatever cheap shot she could at Dionne. It would only be return-fire, after all.
"I wonder if they literally did bankroll you into the Turks," Elena remarked, feigning casualness, head tilting to one side. "After all, our father worked in the Military Academy, and I'm sure that that along with a little donation to the Company would have been enough to get you in."
Dionne whipped around so fast that Elena realised too late to react. Rough fingers clenched around the neck of her t-shirt and Elena found herself being swung round and pushed back violently against the lockers. A padlock dug painfully into her back. "I'm at the top of my profession and you know it," Dionne seethed. "You, on the other hand – well, it's you who'd need bankrolling into the Turks, Elena, not me." Dionne paused, digging her fist into Elena's throat as she tightened her grip on her t-shirt. "You – well, you're so average it's painful. If they really wanted you in the Turks, you wouldn't be stuck in Security. They'd snap you up like that," she snapped her fingers close to Elena's face. "But you wouldn't last one day in the Turks."
Elena remembered her captain telling her once that she shouldn't dish out anything she couldn't take. And how right he was. As her next move came to mind, Elena decided that she was prepared to take whatever Dionne chose to throw back.
She struggled to free herself but Dionne wedged her body up against hers, preventing her from hitting or kicking out. Although the lockers would hinder her from gaining as much momentum as she would have liked, Elena braced her head back against the metal door. As she did, she noticed a movement somewhere behind Dionne but it was too late to stop now.
Elena jerked her head forwards with as much force as she dared, plunging her forehead into the bridge of Dionne's nose. Dionne let out a short shriek, stumbling backwards with her hands clasped over her face. Blood was already visible streaming down her chin. Elena fought for balance briefly, having been released from her sister's clutches rather more quickly than she had been prepared for. As Dionne thunked down on the bench, Elena looked up to see a man in a Turk uniform standing in the central walkway that ran through the centre of the six sections of the Security Deparment's locker room, arms folded. Given the open plan nature of the area, which was arranged much like the two-dimensional, unfolded net plan of a cube, Elena wondered how much he might have heard. No doubt it was the sound of their raised voices that had caught his attention in the first place. He was looking straight at her, and it was with a sickening pang in the pit of her stomach that she recognised him as Tseng. It suddenly occurred to her just how unladylike that must have looked, not to mention how insubordinate it was to assault a superior, even if she had just successfully subdued a Turk.
"I'll see to it that you won't work the charity event," Dionne snapped, voice muffled by the hand that was protectively covering her bleeding nose. She was clearly completely unaware of the fact that they had company. She cautiously removed her hand from her face and inspected the blood on her palm. Her nose did not appear broken, and Elena found herself oddly relieved.
"No, you won't."
Dionne whipped round in her seat, and Elena could only imagine the look of sheer horror on her face. Now that was satisfying. Tseng's voice was almost impossibly clipped and collected.
"Sir, I—" Dionne began hastily, rising from her seat.
"Sit down," Tseng interrupted her, his tone unchanged. "You do not interfere with the Security Department's shifts unless given authorisation to do so. Is that clear?"
"Of course, sir," Dionne nodded once. She was obviously fighting to regain her usual calmness, and to her credit she was about halfway there. Elena, on the other hand, felt suddenly out of her depth as Tseng's eyes settled on her. "You are dismissed," he said to Dionne, sparing her only a brief glance. "Stop by the infirmary on your way; I need to know you're fit for this afternoon's mission."
Dionne nodded again, rose fluidly from the bench and was gone. Now that they were alone, Elena felt the nerves swelling from her gut. She had only seen Tseng on one or two occasions before but she had heard rumours about how rigorously professional he was.
"It's Elena, isn't it?" he asked smoothly, his face giving absolutely nothing away.
"Y-yes," Elena replied, trying to get a grip on herself. She might also have heard during one session or other of locker room banter that Tseng had a forte for martial arts, with his speciality being the old Wutai tradition of causing pain by utilising various pressure points on the human body. Naturally she had scoffed at such rumours, as had many others. Now that he was approaching her with an impenetrable expression, however, she began to wonder if there was any truth in it.
"Impressive," he remarked with a nod, breaking eye contact with her for about a second. "Overpowering a Turk." He was watching Elena's eyes make quick but small movements from side to side as she tried to anticipate what was coming. He was standing a few feet away, arms relaxed at his sides, but still Elena had the sensation of being hemmed in by him. She felt she ought to respond, even if she wasn't convinced that her tongue was quite up to the job without tripping over itself.
"Thank you," Elena replied, unsettled rather than pleased at receiving praise from the leader of the group she so yearned to be a part of. "But…" Elena glanced up at him, as though unsure of whether or not to continue. Tseng was looking at her expectantly. "Things got out of hand, sir – that shouldn't have happened."
Tseng smiled. Somehow, it led Elena to believe that he had heard at least a good part of her argument with Dionne. "Quite," he said slowly. "It would do your career prospects no harm to remember that the next time you find yourself tempted to assault a member of the Turks, be they your sister or not."
"Yes, sir," Elena nodded. Tseng held her gaze for a few moments longer, then dipped his head and turned on his heel. Before he began walking, he spoke once more.
"Good luck this evening, although I'm sure you won't need it."
Elena watched him go, her lips parted in disbelief. It wasn't long, though, before an unstoppable smile crossed her face.
-x-