It was several months before Sephiroth was forced to report back to
Headquarters. He never failed to marvel at how life inside the monumental
building never seemed to change. Sure the cut of the numerous suits and
the hairstyles change, but the general routine was always the same. He was
almost certain he could step into the building years after his last visit
and still see the same people doing the exact same things that they were
doing today. He thought it must have be a sad existence, to get up
everyday and do the same thing for the rest of you life, no variety,
nothing exciting to break the endless monotony.
He shuddered at the thought as he strode to the glass elevator. He'd kill himself before he let himself get caught in this kind of endless drudgery. He swiped his card through the card reader so he could access the top levels of the building. With well practiced stoicism he ignore the not- quite-hushed whispers of the various gaggles of secretaries that looked at him then looked away and giggled. And some people honestly wondered why he didn't date.
A new secretary was in the waiting room, though you never could have told from the rapidly forming puddle of drool forming under her. Honestly he didn't know what was so appealing about his chest in the first place. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, his head bowed so that the long silver bangs obscured his face. He didn't look up until he heard the outer office door open and then shut. Out of curiosity he glanced up, only to see Highwind, looking as uncomfortable as ever walk through the doors. Again he was dressed in the ill-fitting suit, which he was so evidently uncomfortable in. Highwind was not a suit man like Palmer was, he struck Sephiroth as the type of man to be out in the field, getting his hands dirty, not sitting in an office and politicking.
He new the moment Highwind realized he was there, not that he'd been trying to hide himself. Hell, it wasn't like he could hide himself, at least not effectively anyway. He was however quite surprised when he saw the engineer walking over and taking a seat next to him. Usually the only people who tried to get close to him were hormonal women. There was silence between the two men, though it wasn't a heavy silence as one might expect. Instead it was easy, almost friendly silence as the two seemed to almost have an understanding in their mutual dislike of offices.
"Cid." It was so abrupt that Sephiroth blinked stupidly for a moment before turning to look at the blonde man he quirked an elegant blonde eyebrow in question, his features remaining otherwise impassive. "My name, its Cid. Palmer kind of overlooked it the last time we met."
Sephiroth nodded, a smile twitching at the edge of his full lips. "Palmer's like that, he only remembers the things that will advance him." Which was true, Palmer was nothing but a sycophant with a natural talent for taking the credit for other people's hard work. He didn't even have the occasional flash of brilliance that Heideggar sometimes got, or the technical know how and assets that Scarlett possessed. That Palmer had become the overseer of any branch of ShinRa was either a miracle or a fluke, and Sephiroth tended to believe it was a fluke of paperwork.
"Don't I know it. Damned bastard took credit for my idea when we pitched it to the President. The man wouldn't know serious aeronautical design if it smacked him in his fat face." The image that accompanied that statement was so funny that Sephiroth had to choke back a laugh, though the usually cool green eyes lit up with amusement. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't afraid to speak their mind. Years of being forced to maneuver the political zone that was ShinRa had taught Sephiroth enough discretion to survive.
"So why are you here? Waiting for Palmer to waddle in?" His comment brought a snort of bitter laughter from the other man.
"Well I was supposed to be in on the meeting between Palmer and the President that's taking place now, but after I did my little part I was rather politely told that I wasn't needed and I should go wait outside until they're done." Cid rolled his clear blue eyes in exasperation. "They did just about everything but pat me on my head and tell me to go outside while the grown-ups discussed grown-up stuff."
Sephiroth sighed and patted Cid on the shoulder, his gloved hands looking almost cumbersome as he did it. "Such is the way of ShinRa. Give it some time Highwind, you'll get used to it. Who knows, maybe you'll learn enough to not get politely shoved out the door." The smirk that graced his face took some of the sting out of the words, though not by much.
Cid groaned, hiding his face in his hands before racking them through his hair, which made the short blonde locks go everywhere. "If I ever get like that, I want someone to shoot me so I can be put out of my misery."
Sephiroth chuckled, a deep rumbling sound, which sent the poor secretary into spasms. "I promise Highwind, if you ever start to act like Palmer I'll shoot you myself." Cid grinned a little bit at that, though the expression was quickly erased when the doors to the President's office opened and Palmer came out.
"Ah Sephiroth, getting to know our Mr. Highwind are you? Well I hate to steal him away but we have work to do. Yes, yes, much work, come along Highwind." And with that Palmer waddled out of the room, never once looking back to see if Cid was actually following him.
Cid rolled his eyes as stood up. "Does he want to me fetch and roll over too?" Sephiroth shrugged, and though he wasn't smiling, his green eyes again had an amused light in them. With a negligent wave Cid turned and followed Palmer towards the elevator as Sephiroth turned and strode into the President's office.
Several hours later a much more tired and edgy Sephiroth left the President's office. Since he wasn't due for a check up this visit he planned to go back to the barracks and get some sleep. Dealing with the President was always a draining experience when you weren't there to kiss his ass. Big egos were always so tough to be around because they didn't leave room for much of anything else, especially common sense. And few egos came bigger than President ShinRa's.
Sephiroth was surprised to see a figure dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans, a button up white shirt and a grease stained jean jacket standing near the elevator with a cigarette between their lips. Upon closer inspection he realized that it was none other than Cid Highwind. The man definitely seemed more comfortable in this attire than he had in that suit. The dull thumping of Sephiroth's boots caused him to look up. When he realized that the approaching person was Sephiroth, Cid straightened himself, scratching his head slightly.
Sephiroth paused in front of him, his long black coat rustling slightly in the stillness. The two regarded each other calmly, perhaps even a bit warily. In the end, it was Cid who broke the silence. "Meeting go well?"
Sephiroth's answer was a shrug of broad shoulders. "It went as well as they usually go."
"That good huh?" Cid took the cigarette out from between his lips, absently running a hand through the disheveled blonde hair. "Well you want to go get a drink then? I heard of a good bar down in Seventh Sector. A bit seedy but I kinda doubt that you'll really mind." For some unknown reason, the idea appealed to Sephiroth. Maybe it was the stress from meeting with the President, or the prospect of another night in his quarters reading through an endless stack of reports, but the idea of going into town with the man and having a couple of drinks seemed rather tempting.
There were very few people that Sephiroth got to interact with on a social level. Most were either attracted to the power he held as the general of SOLDIER, and the benefits they thought they would get from being in his good graces. His men feared and respected him, which was how it should be, but it also meant few tried to honestly get to know the person and not the commander. And lastly there was the endless parade of women (and men too) who only wanted his body and the ability to say they 'scored' with the great Sephiroth.
Yet he didn't detect anything like that from Highwind. The man seemed to be showing a genuine interest in having a friendly drink with someone who shared similar feelings and somewhat similar experiences. The idea was simple in it's simplicity, and so Sephiroth agreed and found himself sitting on a barstool in the middle of the Sector Seven slums, drinking scotch that could probably degrease an engine, as Cid had so colorfully put it.
He shuddered at the thought as he strode to the glass elevator. He'd kill himself before he let himself get caught in this kind of endless drudgery. He swiped his card through the card reader so he could access the top levels of the building. With well practiced stoicism he ignore the not- quite-hushed whispers of the various gaggles of secretaries that looked at him then looked away and giggled. And some people honestly wondered why he didn't date.
A new secretary was in the waiting room, though you never could have told from the rapidly forming puddle of drool forming under her. Honestly he didn't know what was so appealing about his chest in the first place. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, his head bowed so that the long silver bangs obscured his face. He didn't look up until he heard the outer office door open and then shut. Out of curiosity he glanced up, only to see Highwind, looking as uncomfortable as ever walk through the doors. Again he was dressed in the ill-fitting suit, which he was so evidently uncomfortable in. Highwind was not a suit man like Palmer was, he struck Sephiroth as the type of man to be out in the field, getting his hands dirty, not sitting in an office and politicking.
He new the moment Highwind realized he was there, not that he'd been trying to hide himself. Hell, it wasn't like he could hide himself, at least not effectively anyway. He was however quite surprised when he saw the engineer walking over and taking a seat next to him. Usually the only people who tried to get close to him were hormonal women. There was silence between the two men, though it wasn't a heavy silence as one might expect. Instead it was easy, almost friendly silence as the two seemed to almost have an understanding in their mutual dislike of offices.
"Cid." It was so abrupt that Sephiroth blinked stupidly for a moment before turning to look at the blonde man he quirked an elegant blonde eyebrow in question, his features remaining otherwise impassive. "My name, its Cid. Palmer kind of overlooked it the last time we met."
Sephiroth nodded, a smile twitching at the edge of his full lips. "Palmer's like that, he only remembers the things that will advance him." Which was true, Palmer was nothing but a sycophant with a natural talent for taking the credit for other people's hard work. He didn't even have the occasional flash of brilliance that Heideggar sometimes got, or the technical know how and assets that Scarlett possessed. That Palmer had become the overseer of any branch of ShinRa was either a miracle or a fluke, and Sephiroth tended to believe it was a fluke of paperwork.
"Don't I know it. Damned bastard took credit for my idea when we pitched it to the President. The man wouldn't know serious aeronautical design if it smacked him in his fat face." The image that accompanied that statement was so funny that Sephiroth had to choke back a laugh, though the usually cool green eyes lit up with amusement. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't afraid to speak their mind. Years of being forced to maneuver the political zone that was ShinRa had taught Sephiroth enough discretion to survive.
"So why are you here? Waiting for Palmer to waddle in?" His comment brought a snort of bitter laughter from the other man.
"Well I was supposed to be in on the meeting between Palmer and the President that's taking place now, but after I did my little part I was rather politely told that I wasn't needed and I should go wait outside until they're done." Cid rolled his clear blue eyes in exasperation. "They did just about everything but pat me on my head and tell me to go outside while the grown-ups discussed grown-up stuff."
Sephiroth sighed and patted Cid on the shoulder, his gloved hands looking almost cumbersome as he did it. "Such is the way of ShinRa. Give it some time Highwind, you'll get used to it. Who knows, maybe you'll learn enough to not get politely shoved out the door." The smirk that graced his face took some of the sting out of the words, though not by much.
Cid groaned, hiding his face in his hands before racking them through his hair, which made the short blonde locks go everywhere. "If I ever get like that, I want someone to shoot me so I can be put out of my misery."
Sephiroth chuckled, a deep rumbling sound, which sent the poor secretary into spasms. "I promise Highwind, if you ever start to act like Palmer I'll shoot you myself." Cid grinned a little bit at that, though the expression was quickly erased when the doors to the President's office opened and Palmer came out.
"Ah Sephiroth, getting to know our Mr. Highwind are you? Well I hate to steal him away but we have work to do. Yes, yes, much work, come along Highwind." And with that Palmer waddled out of the room, never once looking back to see if Cid was actually following him.
Cid rolled his eyes as stood up. "Does he want to me fetch and roll over too?" Sephiroth shrugged, and though he wasn't smiling, his green eyes again had an amused light in them. With a negligent wave Cid turned and followed Palmer towards the elevator as Sephiroth turned and strode into the President's office.
Several hours later a much more tired and edgy Sephiroth left the President's office. Since he wasn't due for a check up this visit he planned to go back to the barracks and get some sleep. Dealing with the President was always a draining experience when you weren't there to kiss his ass. Big egos were always so tough to be around because they didn't leave room for much of anything else, especially common sense. And few egos came bigger than President ShinRa's.
Sephiroth was surprised to see a figure dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans, a button up white shirt and a grease stained jean jacket standing near the elevator with a cigarette between their lips. Upon closer inspection he realized that it was none other than Cid Highwind. The man definitely seemed more comfortable in this attire than he had in that suit. The dull thumping of Sephiroth's boots caused him to look up. When he realized that the approaching person was Sephiroth, Cid straightened himself, scratching his head slightly.
Sephiroth paused in front of him, his long black coat rustling slightly in the stillness. The two regarded each other calmly, perhaps even a bit warily. In the end, it was Cid who broke the silence. "Meeting go well?"
Sephiroth's answer was a shrug of broad shoulders. "It went as well as they usually go."
"That good huh?" Cid took the cigarette out from between his lips, absently running a hand through the disheveled blonde hair. "Well you want to go get a drink then? I heard of a good bar down in Seventh Sector. A bit seedy but I kinda doubt that you'll really mind." For some unknown reason, the idea appealed to Sephiroth. Maybe it was the stress from meeting with the President, or the prospect of another night in his quarters reading through an endless stack of reports, but the idea of going into town with the man and having a couple of drinks seemed rather tempting.
There were very few people that Sephiroth got to interact with on a social level. Most were either attracted to the power he held as the general of SOLDIER, and the benefits they thought they would get from being in his good graces. His men feared and respected him, which was how it should be, but it also meant few tried to honestly get to know the person and not the commander. And lastly there was the endless parade of women (and men too) who only wanted his body and the ability to say they 'scored' with the great Sephiroth.
Yet he didn't detect anything like that from Highwind. The man seemed to be showing a genuine interest in having a friendly drink with someone who shared similar feelings and somewhat similar experiences. The idea was simple in it's simplicity, and so Sephiroth agreed and found himself sitting on a barstool in the middle of the Sector Seven slums, drinking scotch that could probably degrease an engine, as Cid had so colorfully put it.