A/N: Tseng is very, very hard to write, and this is how I always saw Aeris. A different idea of them both, and them together, I think. Hope you all like.
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I saw her walk in out of the corner of my eye. The bar was filled with smoke, a dull gray curtain that rested over the scene and lent an oily, almost wet sheen to the flickering overhead lights. The overall illusion was that of a moments-old shipwreck, passengers dead and yet intact, floating dully about, at the mercy of the larger forces of the ocean. I felt my lip curl in contempt as I sipped my drink. Or, nearly sipped it, to be precise. I froze in a rather undignified position, my lips pursed slightly to take the edge of the glass that was millimeters away, as a soft figure draped in pale pink disturbed the bleakness of the bar.
I tensed instinctively and then relaxed. She was trying to sell flowers to the bar patrons, of all things. Half the men she spoke to were too drunk to even comprehend her sales pitch. The others seemed to laugh openly at her wares, more interested in the glimpse of her full bosom they could get as she leaned over to bat her eyelashes at them. Not enough of a glimpse to convince them to hand over their drinking money for flowers, apparently. She moved across the room to a dark corner of the ungainly sprawl of tattered, stained booths that cluttered the left side of the bar, holding her woven basket out. She gave a high-pitched squeal as a hand shot out and seized her arm, dragging her down into the lap of a large, rough-looking man whose hygiene, as I observed distinctly even from a considerable distance, left much to be desired. She twisted and struggled as the man laughed raucously, a look of revulsion twisting her delicate features. He clasped a hand to her breast and squeezed. A resounding slap echoed across the bar, and she jerked free, stumbling back, trying to maintain her dignity. She whirled and strode away from the corner. She marched straight over to me without looking up and drew in a breath, clearly getting ready for a rehearsed speech. It was almost comical, the way the words completely died in her throat and her eyes became saucers as she looked at me.
"Tseng?! I'll scream," she whispered frantically, "I'll scream as loud as I can." I couldn't restrain a snort. As if a man dragging a screaming female out of a bar would turn a single head in Midgar.
"Why, Aeris," I replied smoothly, "what makes you think you have any reason to scream? Shinra still urges you to come work with us for the good of humanity, but we would never force you. We hope you'll agree to make the world a better place of your own free will." Complete shit, and we both knew it. But the orders from headquarters were hardly urgent. The President was too occupied with the Avalanche business to begin serious action on his megalomaniacal project. Neo-Midgar indeed. She was considering me, her head cocked to the side so that her hair ribbon trailed onto her shoulder, her lips pursed up thoughtfully.
"All right, then." She grabbed my arm, to my surprise, and started to pull me away from the table. "This place is making my eyes water. Let's go outside!" Well, why not? I had walked into the decaying hole for the expressed purpose of a whiskey and soda, but from the brief whiff I had gotten of my drink I seriously suspected that the bartender had long run out of whiskey and had begun substituting transmission fluid. I tossed a few bills on the counter behind me, leaving an insultingly large tip, and allowed her to lead me away. We walked a few steps out of the door and into the open air - if you can even call it that - of the city. In the next moment, she had thrust her basket under my nose and smiled sweetly. "Won't you buy a flower? Only one gil each." I arched an eyebrow at her.
"And what do you expect me to do with a flower?"
"I expect you to put them in a vase, of course. On your desk!" She seemed pleased with her suggestion, and I bit back a smile, thinking of the constellation of harsh, metallic angles that made up my office.
"A flower would hardly complement the Shinra decor." I murmured dryly, and she favored me with a disappointed pout. A sudden twinge of guilt assaulted me. I had often wondered if she really made a decent living from her flowers. As beneficiaries of Shinra, the people of Midgar had long ago realized that the beauties of nature were vaguely treasonous and at best an enemy of progress. I drew a ten gil note from my pocket and handed it to her. "Just keep it. I don't want the flowers." She gave a high-pitched huff of indignation.
"You have to take the flowers. I'm not going to just take your money and not give you flowers. That's charity," she drawled out the word with condescending deliberateness. "I don't need that from Shinra. Or you!" She added with a small, childish flash of temper. I found myself fighting back a smile again. Funny, that. Smiles for me had long, long since become rare and faintly disconcerting, like a violent rainstorm in the desert, and here she had nearly dragged two out of me in less than that same amount in minutes. She busied herself with carefully selecting ten flowers, scrutinizing each like a jeweler picking diamonds. She handed over the resulting bouquet with a lofty look. I looked at them and then back at her bemusedly. She gave a theatrically exasperated sigh and said, "Give them to someone special!" I handed them back to her before I could completely think the action through, seizing on the loophole that she had thrown me.
I stiffened at the look that stole over her features and marveled at the same time, that the expression on her face could remind me so much of early morning light creeping over the water. A strange, nearly panicky feeling gripped me; I felt like I had been caught doing something incriminating. Well, I suppose I had. Her eyes were wandering my face carefully. I could practically see the wheels in her head turning. She looked down, the dark curl of her lashes resting against her creamy cheek, and then looked back up again, smiling coquettishly. It was an artful gesture. Alluring and innocent all at once. I wondered if she practiced. She accepted the flowers while holding out her full skirt and falling gracefully into a curtsy. "Thank you kindly. I have a pretty vase in my bedroom that will be perfect for these." She held them against her breasts, blinking up at me. Warmth stole over my cheeks, but it absolutely could not have been because I was starting to blush. I do not blush. My phone chose that fine moment to ring.
"Be careful walking home," I said coolly, about to turn away to answer.
"Wait!" She held out a hand to stop me, looking unsure. She clasped her hands together nervously for a moment, or maybe because she was aware of the way that motion accented her cleavage above the curving line of her dress, and then sidled up against me, rising on her tiptoes to press a soft, not-entirely-innocent-at-all kiss to my cheek. "Thank you for the flowers," she murmured, a surprisingly sultry undercurrent to her naturally lilting voice. Oh, Aeris, I thought, you don't have to do that. You've already sold me the flowers, haven't you? The phone rang again insistently, and she stepped back, spinning away lightly so that her dress swished around her knees, revealing long, smooth calves. She hurried away through the crowds, her light, girlish laughter floating back to me. I lifted the phone to my ear.
"Yes?" My voice had no business sounding that hoarse.
"There's been an update, Tseng." Heidegger. Better than a cold shower.
"About what, sir?" I inquired.
"The Ancient bitch. Find her, drag her all the way here if you have to. The President is going to be starting up his Neo-Midgar project." He started up with his obnoxious guffawing. So much for the insane plans being put on the backburner while Shinra faced a dangerous terrorist organization. I had a startled moment where I half-wondered if he knew that I had been speaking with her, but I quickly dismissed the notion. As if a Turk could be spied on.
"Yes, sir." I said simply. Heidegger spent a few moments winding down his laughing fit.
"Get the other boys on it, too." The phone clicked off, and I quietly returned it to my pocket. I glanced over my shoulder towards where Aeris had disappeared and then began to walk steadily in the other direction. I stopped abruptly as I passed the entrance to the bar that we had exited together, and I strolled back inside. I made my way over to the shadowy corner and found myself sneering slightly as I looked over Aeris' assailant. He was more unattractive up close. He shot me a surly look when he noticed my standing there, and I smiled coldly back.
"That was no way to treat a lady, sir." The man snorted unpleasantly.
"What's it to you? You her pimp or somethin'?" He growled, leering up at me. As well-spoken as he was well-groomed. The man didn't even have time to look surprised before I drew my gun and put a neat hole in the precise center of his forehead. I turned and walked crisply out amid a chorus of drunken cries of surprise and fear.
I tensed instinctively and then relaxed. She was trying to sell flowers to the bar patrons, of all things. Half the men she spoke to were too drunk to even comprehend her sales pitch. The others seemed to laugh openly at her wares, more interested in the glimpse of her full bosom they could get as she leaned over to bat her eyelashes at them. Not enough of a glimpse to convince them to hand over their drinking money for flowers, apparently. She moved across the room to a dark corner of the ungainly sprawl of tattered, stained booths that cluttered the left side of the bar, holding her woven basket out. She gave a high-pitched squeal as a hand shot out and seized her arm, dragging her down into the lap of a large, rough-looking man whose hygiene, as I observed distinctly even from a considerable distance, left much to be desired. She twisted and struggled as the man laughed raucously, a look of revulsion twisting her delicate features. He clasped a hand to her breast and squeezed. A resounding slap echoed across the bar, and she jerked free, stumbling back, trying to maintain her dignity. She whirled and strode away from the corner. She marched straight over to me without looking up and drew in a breath, clearly getting ready for a rehearsed speech. It was almost comical, the way the words completely died in her throat and her eyes became saucers as she looked at me.
"Tseng?! I'll scream," she whispered frantically, "I'll scream as loud as I can." I couldn't restrain a snort. As if a man dragging a screaming female out of a bar would turn a single head in Midgar.
"Why, Aeris," I replied smoothly, "what makes you think you have any reason to scream? Shinra still urges you to come work with us for the good of humanity, but we would never force you. We hope you'll agree to make the world a better place of your own free will." Complete shit, and we both knew it. But the orders from headquarters were hardly urgent. The President was too occupied with the Avalanche business to begin serious action on his megalomaniacal project. Neo-Midgar indeed. She was considering me, her head cocked to the side so that her hair ribbon trailed onto her shoulder, her lips pursed up thoughtfully.
"All right, then." She grabbed my arm, to my surprise, and started to pull me away from the table. "This place is making my eyes water. Let's go outside!" Well, why not? I had walked into the decaying hole for the expressed purpose of a whiskey and soda, but from the brief whiff I had gotten of my drink I seriously suspected that the bartender had long run out of whiskey and had begun substituting transmission fluid. I tossed a few bills on the counter behind me, leaving an insultingly large tip, and allowed her to lead me away. We walked a few steps out of the door and into the open air - if you can even call it that - of the city. In the next moment, she had thrust her basket under my nose and smiled sweetly. "Won't you buy a flower? Only one gil each." I arched an eyebrow at her.
"And what do you expect me to do with a flower?"
"I expect you to put them in a vase, of course. On your desk!" She seemed pleased with her suggestion, and I bit back a smile, thinking of the constellation of harsh, metallic angles that made up my office.
"A flower would hardly complement the Shinra decor." I murmured dryly, and she favored me with a disappointed pout. A sudden twinge of guilt assaulted me. I had often wondered if she really made a decent living from her flowers. As beneficiaries of Shinra, the people of Midgar had long ago realized that the beauties of nature were vaguely treasonous and at best an enemy of progress. I drew a ten gil note from my pocket and handed it to her. "Just keep it. I don't want the flowers." She gave a high-pitched huff of indignation.
"You have to take the flowers. I'm not going to just take your money and not give you flowers. That's charity," she drawled out the word with condescending deliberateness. "I don't need that from Shinra. Or you!" She added with a small, childish flash of temper. I found myself fighting back a smile again. Funny, that. Smiles for me had long, long since become rare and faintly disconcerting, like a violent rainstorm in the desert, and here she had nearly dragged two out of me in less than that same amount in minutes. She busied herself with carefully selecting ten flowers, scrutinizing each like a jeweler picking diamonds. She handed over the resulting bouquet with a lofty look. I looked at them and then back at her bemusedly. She gave a theatrically exasperated sigh and said, "Give them to someone special!" I handed them back to her before I could completely think the action through, seizing on the loophole that she had thrown me.
I stiffened at the look that stole over her features and marveled at the same time, that the expression on her face could remind me so much of early morning light creeping over the water. A strange, nearly panicky feeling gripped me; I felt like I had been caught doing something incriminating. Well, I suppose I had. Her eyes were wandering my face carefully. I could practically see the wheels in her head turning. She looked down, the dark curl of her lashes resting against her creamy cheek, and then looked back up again, smiling coquettishly. It was an artful gesture. Alluring and innocent all at once. I wondered if she practiced. She accepted the flowers while holding out her full skirt and falling gracefully into a curtsy. "Thank you kindly. I have a pretty vase in my bedroom that will be perfect for these." She held them against her breasts, blinking up at me. Warmth stole over my cheeks, but it absolutely could not have been because I was starting to blush. I do not blush. My phone chose that fine moment to ring.
"Be careful walking home," I said coolly, about to turn away to answer.
"Wait!" She held out a hand to stop me, looking unsure. She clasped her hands together nervously for a moment, or maybe because she was aware of the way that motion accented her cleavage above the curving line of her dress, and then sidled up against me, rising on her tiptoes to press a soft, not-entirely-innocent-at-all kiss to my cheek. "Thank you for the flowers," she murmured, a surprisingly sultry undercurrent to her naturally lilting voice. Oh, Aeris, I thought, you don't have to do that. You've already sold me the flowers, haven't you? The phone rang again insistently, and she stepped back, spinning away lightly so that her dress swished around her knees, revealing long, smooth calves. She hurried away through the crowds, her light, girlish laughter floating back to me. I lifted the phone to my ear.
"Yes?" My voice had no business sounding that hoarse.
"There's been an update, Tseng." Heidegger. Better than a cold shower.
"About what, sir?" I inquired.
"The Ancient bitch. Find her, drag her all the way here if you have to. The President is going to be starting up his Neo-Midgar project." He started up with his obnoxious guffawing. So much for the insane plans being put on the backburner while Shinra faced a dangerous terrorist organization. I had a startled moment where I half-wondered if he knew that I had been speaking with her, but I quickly dismissed the notion. As if a Turk could be spied on.
"Yes, sir." I said simply. Heidegger spent a few moments winding down his laughing fit.
"Get the other boys on it, too." The phone clicked off, and I quietly returned it to my pocket. I glanced over my shoulder towards where Aeris had disappeared and then began to walk steadily in the other direction. I stopped abruptly as I passed the entrance to the bar that we had exited together, and I strolled back inside. I made my way over to the shadowy corner and found myself sneering slightly as I looked over Aeris' assailant. He was more unattractive up close. He shot me a surly look when he noticed my standing there, and I smiled coldly back.
"That was no way to treat a lady, sir." The man snorted unpleasantly.
"What's it to you? You her pimp or somethin'?" He growled, leering up at me. As well-spoken as he was well-groomed. The man didn't even have time to look surprised before I drew my gun and put a neat hole in the precise center of his forehead. I turned and walked crisply out amid a chorus of drunken cries of surprise and fear.