Chapter 18: Transitions
Reno, as it turned out, didn't go back to his room.
He tried. Reno said it, and she believed it. But someone - Arien had a good idea who - had apparently decided to get back at Reno for whatever vice he had, and when Reno left her apartment that evening, she had sent him off without so much as a "I love you". So she naturally believed he had forgotten something when he rang her door five minutes later.
"Did you forget something?" She asked, chewing on the biscotti. She had just been settling into her sofa with a novel she had been putting off for months, and was nonplussed to find him at the door.
"No," he said. "Can I come in?"
Arien raised an eyebrow, but moved out of the way as the redhead entered. He sat down on the sofa, throwing his legs out in front of him; she walked into the kitchen and got a mug, deciding that she'd rather not stand up again once she sat down. Pouring coffee, she brought it back to the living room and handed it to him, then sat next to him, frowning; it still hurt a little to sit, and she shifted her weight. Reno was leaning against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed and drinking coffee, and she could see his sternum from the unbuttoned collar.
"Reno?"
"Someone," he said, "trashed my flat."
Arien, who was biting into her biscotti, stopped. "Er, what?"
"Someone trashed my flat. Looks like someone had more fun in my flat than we did last night." He winked, but Arien saw simmering anger in his eyes.
"No, I heard what you said. What do you mean, trashed my flat?"
"Well, usually it means someone came into my flat and ripped the place apart." He looked around warily. "They even ripped my mattress apart. And smashed up my TV."
"Anything gone?"
He shook his head no. She absently handed him the biscotti, then stood up. "Let's go."
"Go where?"
"To your room." She walked slowly, then turned. "Coming?"
"Well," she said, standing with her hands on her hips, "you have to give it to them, they did a pretty thorough job."
"They?" Crunch crunch. Reno was chewing on the remains of the chocolate and pistachio biscotti.
"Or she. I have a feeling I know who did this." She turned. "Just how many girls did you bring here, anyway? I'm guessing your list's so long it'd take a day and two to get the names."
"Are we really going there?" He swallowed. "I thought I said…"
She waved his protest away. "Not that. I think whoever did this was one of your trysts." She pointed at the mattress. "Special attention to the mattress. Usually, people don't vent out frustration that much on the bed. They tend to go for other things."
"Like what?"
"TV, computers, things people'd value." She turned around. "Who else might trash your apartment?"
"You?"
She glared up at him. "Funny," she muttered. "But seriously, Reno. I think we're… what's this?"
She bent down to take a good look. It looked like a photograph torn in two; the other half was missing, but she could guess what the other half showed, from the torn edges. There was a kitchen knife stabbed through it, pinning it to the floor. She pulled it out and picked the photograph up, then looked up at the redhead.
"Where did you get this?" She asked.
"I think someone from the Intelligence took that photo. Gave me one." He shrugged as he dusted his hand off with his trousers. "Axil? Maybe?"
Arien got to her feet, her dark hair falling about her face. The photograph had been her; it must have been taken while she was unawares, for her eyes were focused elsewhere. She was in a white shirt and seemed to be laughing; Tseng was in the background, and she could see what appeared to be Rude's arm and a flash of red. Reno's hair. She remembered that day; it had been after lunch on a Thursday, and Reno had been trying to hit Heidegger in the head with a pebble as the executives walked their way up to the Shinra villa. The vehemence with which the knife was driven into disturbed her. Someone really didn't like the idea of Reno being an item with… anybody. And well, here it was, the aftermath.
"Do you want to stay at my place for the night?" She asked softly. The flat was in no habitable condition. He looked at her.
"Did you just say what I think you said?"
"Well, Rude's place is across the sector. My place would be easier."
He raised an eyebrow at her with unspoken suggestions. "You sure you want to?"
"Well…" trepidation did hound her. After all, this was Reno they were talking about. Had it been Tseng or Rude, she might have felt a little more comfortable inviting to stay over for another night, but this was Reno, and he attracted trouble like tornadoes to trailer parks. But well, he pretty much had done the maximum damage he could, so what could another night do? Get her apartment ripped up? "Yes," she finally replied as she began her way out.
"Thanks."
"You've already stayed last night, what's another night?" She pressed the elevator button. She did not tell him there was a part of her that was happy he'd be staying. She realised she actually liked his company, despite the constant nagging annoyance; and maybe it was crossing boundaries, but she could admit it to herself now.
The ride up the elevator was silent. There was nothing to be said. Arien wondered just how the relationship had progressed from a drunken trap at Shiv's party to this, then realised that Reno probably hadn't eaten. For that matter, neither had she, and she wasn't up to going out. He was also going to see her share of daily routines as a living and breathing female, but if he didn't like it, well, he was going to have to live with it.
"Hey, are you hungry?" she asked when they returned to her apartment. She was looking through her refrigerator. She really needed to go food shopping; she was running low on milk and eggs, and she couldn't figure out what had happened to her tomatoes. She knew she had them, but suddenly they had disappeared. Either the fridge was eating her food or she she couldn't remember where she had put them.
Reno, who was flipping through the channel - domestic felicity at its finest - looked up at her as she stood in the doorway, leaning onto the doorframe. "Uh, actually, now that you mention it…"
Arien went back to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards. She had goat cheese, a brick of Costan parmesan, pasta, walnuts, frozen green beans, and some courgettes. She was seriously running low on stock.
Reno kept an eye on her as she went about, remembering the beach at Costa del Sol. Maybe it was seeing her in the kitchen, he thought, that reminded him of the sun on the coast. He remembered her in a white swimsuit, walking in the sand, her dark hair floating in the wind as she shoved her sunglasses up on her forehead. Despite it being hell, this year's camp was actually a happy memory for him; he guessed going out for dinner during one of the evenings when Rude and Tseng were busy actually counted as their first date. He remembered her teasing and languid gaze. She'd been in a white dress…
"Earth to Reno. Is anyone there?"
Reno started. Arien was standing in front of him, looking amused. "Deep in thought?" she asked teasingly. "You're starting to scare me."
He gave a faint grin that told her he probably wasn't thinking about anything decent. "Whatd'ya say?"
"I said, is pasta okay?"
He nodded, but followed her into the kitchen as she began bustling about. He had been surprised at first, back at Costa del Sol, when he learned that this woman was actually quite versatile in the kitchen. He had automatically assumed that Gunslinger wasn't much good at anything else, but apparently she was rather skilled with kitchen knives too. If required, she probably could make a stand in the kitchen, with frying pans and a meat cleaver. Not that he expected her to ever do it.
"The academy didn't provide good food for boarders," she had explained when he had asked. "And you really have to learn how to cook for yourself if you want to weight-control."
It still felt odd for him to see her, usually in pressed shirt and a suit, puttering around in a turtleneck and jeans. It was also odd for two killers to be eating pasta on a Friday night. Come to think of it, when was the last time he'd eaten something his girlfriend cooked? His past girlfriends weren't too skilled in the culinary area, and he remembered a pie a few years ago that had exploded in the oven. That had made bomb dismantling look like a cakewalk.
"Reno, if you're just going to stand in the kitchen, you might help me," came the plaintive voice from his left. She was shaking the frying pan with one hand while she stirred the pasta with the other. "Just keep the frying pan from burning," she directed as she opened another cupboard and got the plates out. He obeyed, wondering to himself why he was following her orders; but she seemed to be in a good mood as she set the table, so he shut up. Besides, keeping her in a good mood might get him goodies later. He doubted they'd just say good night and fall asleep; at least, he hoped not.
A few minutes later, they were at Arien's kitchen table, eating. Reno had to admit, she did have a talent. She might suck in bed, and she had an attitude that made Rufus almost seem adorable, but maybe it was worth putting up with her if she was going to feed him this kind of meal everyday, especially considering that she had apologised she couldn't do much else; that meant that if given proper ingredients and tools, she could whip something up that was far better than what he was eating now. He wasn't that fussy, but he'd rather eat good meals than pizza every day.
"You seriously think it was one of my ex's?" He asked as he shoved the pasta into his mouth. Arien chewed thoughtfully.
"I can't think of anyone else who'd stab at my face with a kitchen knife," she said. "We've been water cooler fodder for a few months, so I guess it's safe for me to assume that the gossip's travelled all the way down to the ground floor lobby by now. I'm surprised HR hasn't chased us with a staple gun, demanding us to file forms acknowledging our relationship."
"English, Arie."
"Well, we haven't really told HR that we're dating," she said, shrugging as she poured water into her glass. "Even though the whole building probably knows."
He bit off the end of a green bean. "They're that interested?"
"Are you joking? That was all my friends talked about for a good three weeks, until they realised we hadn't done anything and got bored." Reno raised an eyebrow at it, but then again, she was a female and probably had female friends who had the magical ability to talk for hours on end on the phone. Reno never understood that; what exactly did they have to discuss in such length? His phone calls mostly involved thirty-second conversations involving location and time.
After washing the dishes and putting them away, Arien accompanied him upstairs to grab "a few things", which eventually turned into a scavenger hunt for things that were not broken. It appeared the culprit's rage had done a pretty thorough job of destroying Reno's possessions, including, but not limited to, his pillows and nightstands. Arien was impressed.
"She must have really liked you," she noted as Reno riffled through the drawers, looking for clothes that didn't resemble a rag. He stopped, straightened, and stared at her, who was looking through his wardrobe, which looked as if a hurricane hit it.
"Are you shitting me? Where d'you get the idea?"
"Because it takes effort to rip someone's flat up this badly." She shoved torn jackets away to the left. "Usually it seems to involve angry answering machine messages of 'Hi, it's me, you're a dick!'."
"Sounds like you have experience."
"No, but I've been present when the said phone calls were made." She threw a jacket onto a bed. "So she must have liked you a lot."
"Yeah. Too bad she didn't leave a name." Reno finally found underwear that didn't have a hole in it. "Where did I keep my spare toothbrush?"
"What happened to your old one?"
"It's snapped into about five different pieces."
"She didn't take its head as a memento?"
"Not funny." He brought the bundle onto the bed and kissed her. "Mm."
"Reno, we're not done yet."
"Yeah, we aren't."
"Good grief, I didn't mean that." But her eyes lingered on him. "Where's your razor?"
"I'll get it." He disappeared, and a moment later Arien heard him swear. She could only guess that state of his bathroom, but she supposed it looked just as smashed up as the rest. The woman must have been infuriated, but usually girls took out anger on other girls, not the boys. Odd.
Oh well.
She sat down on the ripped up bed, wondering just how many women had been on this mattress. Dozen? Two dozen? She'd never know; she doubted he knew. But no other woman would be using this mattress; this angry rampage had ended that. Reno had been the only man in her bed, and it was likely the situation would be that way for a while. She realised she was starting to feel possessive of him, and mentally slapped herself. Reno'd leave when he felt like it. End of discussion.
And then he came back. He was humming a song - out of tune - as he walked in, carrying a bag of toiletries; she was acutely aware of his scent as he walked in. Something about his scent was arousing, and she suddenly imagined herself being pushed down in this mess of a room with him on top of her.
"Okay, I think I have everything!… why're you staring at me like that?"
Arien started, shaking her head. "Nothing," she lied. She knew what he wanted from her that night, and she was beginning to change her mind about it. Maybe she'll let him, she thought as he threw the package in his hand onto the bed; maybe she'll just let him carry her away to wherever he wished.