Rookie Day, a final fantasy vii fanfic

For Winterfel

a dark and lovely Reno writer

Read: "Resting Grounds" or "Hours at a time" ;)

( My second Turk fic. Light stuff. )

Rookie Day
by Jess Angel

A red-haired man hummed an obscure but happy tune, while his fingers expertly tied the ends of a strip of fabric. After much verbal sparring and being on the end of some 'playful' physical abuse, Reno had finally gotten her to cave. An all-too-familiar smirk touched his lips. Not even this feisty little rookie could resist him, he thought, with considerable satisfaction. The elder Turk watched as the blonde bit her lip in apprehension. Even now she was edgy, but still willing to go along with him. Reno's smirk grew—if possible—even smugger.

…Damn, he was good.

Elena heaved a sigh as she felt the blindfold tighten and secure itself around her head. "I swear, Reno. I'm gonna seriously kick your ass if I end up in a strip club again."

There was no way she was going to relive that experience… unless duty called for it, which it had a time or two. Still, the petite blonde would have rather spent her free time in more desirable locations. Her definition of desirable locations. Was that so much to ask?

A green park with warm-yellow butterflies would be nice. Or maybe a quaint café aglow with candlelight that smelled of freshly ground coffee. Heck, she'd settle for a little quiet time on the navy blue couch that sat in the middle of her apartment.

"Relax, rookie." The redhead waved a hand in front of the 'blind' Turk. "As much as it kills me to miss my girls—'specially that sweet Candy Lane—today's your day." He tweaked the blonde's nose. "Congrats on surviving your first month as a Turk, sweetheart. Looks like you've got a shot at living. …At least another month anyway." She made a face. "Be proud."

He grinned as she stuck her tongue out at him. "How 'bout saving those French kisses for later, Laney. Wouldn't want that sexy tongue of yours to get all tuckered out."

Reno's face twisted into a grimace as a foot connected with his shin. "Fuck!"

So much for her supposed blindness. Reno leaned over to rub his assaulted shin. "Shit, Elena. That was low. I am trying to do a nice thing for you here."

The blonde Turk could only snicker.

Perhaps it was her day after all.

Elena's nose crinkled at the trace of Reno's cigarette. It was something she was still trying to grow accustomed to. It was a habit she wasn't very fond of. Her father had lived in that smoke—died in it too.

Drinking, on the other hand, she didn't mind so much. It was the Turk way. In their line of work, alcohol became one of your closest friends. It was a temporary refuge - your momentary clean, well-lit café. A Turk especially needed one of those.

"You two finally made it."

Reno inclined his head towards his boss. "Yeah, it took Blondey Bear a minute—or ten to be convinced of my goodwill."

"And you blame her?" Rude spoke from a barstool one away from Tseng.

"Nah." Reno caught the fresh pack of cigarettes thrown his way. "Thanks."

The redhead pulled out a new smoke and slipped the pack safely into a blue pocket. Next, he grabbed a nearby chair from a table and casually straddled it backwards before lighting up.

"…Hello? Can I take this off yet?" the neglected Turk called, still standing several feet away from the group.

Reno fanned out the burning match. "Oh, yeah."

She made a sound of combined annoyance and frustration.

"What? It's not like it's my fault you're still slow on the uptake, rookie."

Elena took off the blindfold but chose not to respond. If she let the redhead get under her skin any further, she just might kill him. Not good, considering she felt they were all starting to accept her. Accepted by the Turks. Not just Tseng, but Rude… and yes, even Reno.

That mattered to her.

"A bar?" she smiled, looking around her.

"You were expecting the Honey Bee Inn? Of course, a bar." Reno waved the cigarette between his fingers. "What's a Turk without a bar?"

"Crazy," Rude and Tseng responded simultaneously.

Ah, of course. She swallowed a laugh then nodded. They had never taken her out to a bar with them after-hours. Ever. Elena wasn't sure what it was about that, but she also never asked, as if she knew it wouldn't happen. And now…

God, she almost wanted to cry.

She really was a Turk.

"You game?"

Elena broke from her thoughts and turned her red-haired comrade. "Hm?"

"Pool." Reno tossed her a cue.

She looked at the pool stick in her hands. "I don't know how."

"Why am I not surprised?" He motioned to her. "Come on. No time like the present." He turned his head. "Rude, break for me."

The bald man nodded and went over to shoot the white ball at the triangle of colored and striped ones.

Reno watched as Elena strode towards him. She stopped and held out the cue. But he only shook his head. "Now, show me how you hold it." Elena did so without comment. "No, no. It's not a bayonet, 'Lena. So you can't stab me with it."

He corrected her. "Like that, 'kay? Now, turn around and face the table. You're gonna line your legs perpendicular to the edge. Good." He took his place behind her. "When you shoot, you lean down towards the table…" Reno moved with her.

Elena kept her eyes and focus on her hands and cue. So concentrated, the blonde absently let a thought that had been distracting her, slip. "You smell good."

Reno pretended not to hear but he smirked and replied anyway, unable to resist. "Do I?"

She tensed. "Surprising, considering I expected the stench of cheap booze and cigarettes."

"Sorry, sorry," he appeased. "So used to your insults, I don't know how else to respond." The lightness in his laugh didn't go unnoticed by either of them.

The carefree sounds that had come from Reno were a bit unsettling. He was sharp angles. Glass. And his expressions were always shadowed. Even his laughs. Elena felt awkward catching him off guard. She brushed aside any further train of thought and feigned a guilty act. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

He seemed to buy it.

"Oh geezus, Elena. Don't worry about it. I deserve worse." He shrugged a shoulder. " 'Sides, you give as good as you get. …An' I'm not exactly blameless."

She snorted. "You got that right."

The female Turk tried again. This wasn't working. Her concentration had already been shot. Thankfully, she found an excuse. "Reno, get your hand off my ass."

What the heck? Reno looked at her incredulously. "That was an accident, Elena. I hardly touched you." He continued a little bristled. "Y'know, you and I would both know if I tried to grab your ass."

She knew he was telling the truth. But right now, Elena wasn't comfortable with how oddly nerve-wrecked she felt being close to him. She'd always laughed at Reno's reputation as a babe-magnet. And as if to prove the world wrong, Elena regularly engaged in the insult fest he just seemed to be asking for. She knew she was no veteran, but the way he called her rookie… That mischievous gleam in his eye when he knew he was baiting her. It made her want to claw his eyes out!

Her attracted to Reno? Hah. She'd sooner shoot her foot than admit that. "Right. Move, please."

"Trying to help."

"Now."

Reno lifted his hands in defeat then shifted away. He shared a look with Rude who just shook his head.

"Here." Tseng moved to fill in.

She didn't dare turn to the raven-haired Wutaian behind her. She'd traded something 'weird' for worse. Her body was flush with sudden embarrassment and Tseng's encroaching body heat. It was bad enough to learn her 'adoration' for her superior was apparent to Rude and Reno; Elena didn't need to be making a fool out of herself in front of all three of them and have it look even more obvious.

Dammit, she was almost trembling, and he had yet to move his arms around her. This nervousness was familiar, but that didn't make it any better. Elena inwardly groaned, she felt sick. God, she'd never be able to look him in the face if her stomach… Oh God, please.

"Boss."

Tseng looked at his fellow Turk.

"Think I can help her. You mind?"

He looked at the man. "Not at all."

Rude nodded, and the two switched places.

"Hey."

Relieved, Elena turned to her savior and smiled. "Hey." She slowly motioned in front of her. "Think I can do this?"

"Nah. Know it." He fixed her position. "Good. Keep your weight balanced. And remember, slightly bend whichever knee's closest to–" He tapped the table. "Then aim, pull back, and hit." The bald man demonstrated the movements with an invisible cue. "Pull back a couple times 'til you're ready."

Elena familiarized herself with the actions. It didn't appear too difficult. She took a breath. She could do this. "Okay, think I got it."

The quiet Turk pointed to a relatively easy shot. Elena moved to it, fixed her stance, and positioned her cue.

"Focus." Rude watched her arm glide back. "Keep it as clean as possible… and always follow through."

In one smooth motion, the cue hit the white ball with precision, sending it spinning towards its mark. Elena pulled at her lower lip as she watched and waited with unblinking Mako eyes.

The cue ball struck just so, sinking the orange-striped globe.

"I… I did it." Her mouth parted in delight. "I really, actually did it!" Elena turned to give the tall man an excited hug. "Rude, you're awesome! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Rude observed as Reno rolled his eyes and Tseng arched an eyebrow. Sometimes it seemed she was too softhearted to be Turk. Rude let a little smile surface despite the thought. But they all knew the girl was quite a hellcat underneath. "Elena–"

The blonde let out a loud sigh. "I know, I know. Don't be weak."

She hadn't expected to get that giddy, but it felt good. Not only that… but this. Being here. Belonging.

"Now if only you'd actually get to the point where we don't have to keep telling ya that." The redhead leaned a hand against the shiny border of the pool table. "That'll be a real milestone."

Elena put a hand on her hip. But Reno's grin only widened at her glare.

Tseng took the moment to interject. "A toast."

Rude raised his glass. "Three cheers for the rookie."

Reno lifted his own and gave the Turk celebrant a slight bow of the head.

"To Elena."

Her expression reluctantly softened. A small smile and she nodded her thanks to her companions.

With that, four shot glasses clinked in salute.

…Fin.

clean, well-lit café
Ernest Hemingway's "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place"

Blondey Bear
Nickname's originally used for Spike (James Marsters) from the shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel.
It popped into my head while writing and oddly seemed to fit.