Salvation (4)

Elena sat at her desk, absently playing with a pen between her fingers. The end of the pen showed teeth marks because she had been gnawing on it earlier. It was an old habit that she had never been able to quit completely and it, like twiddling with a pen between her fingers, always seemed to pop up when she was the most frustrated with her work. It never ceased to amaze her the sheer amount of useless paperwork a Turk could acquire. Usually, she could skim through the work easily because she was so used to it by now but she was too distracted today.
Elena looked down at the papers that covered her desk and tried to force the words to make sense but they kept on dancing around on the page. Too often, the scene of Tseng in the meeting room would swim up to her. Tseng, cool, businesslike Tseng, that hadn't acknowledged her more than a brief nod. And those impossibly dark eyes. . . Not a flicker, not a spark, nothing.
Elena threw down her pen in frustration. God, she was useless today! She pushed out her chair to try and stretch and her leg brushed against her shoulder bag. Elena's face developed a slightly thoughtful expression as she bent down to pick up the bag. Reaching into it, she pulled out Tseng's tiny leather bound book. Her expression grew slightly puzzled as she looked at it. She honestly didn't know why she had taken it. It had just seemed like the thing to do at the time and now that she had it she burned to know what it said.
Elena cast one last look at the papers spread over her desk. Well, it wasn't like she was going to get any actual work done today anyways.
She stood up and headed out of her office and walked towards the elevator. She stopped at Reno's office but didn't have to knock because Reno had his door open.
"I'm heading down to the Mayor's office. I need to look up some things."
Reno snorted.
"Yeah, well, give my love to the Librarian."
Elena smiled slightly at the old joke and waved before heading down the rest of the corridor. Even though the mayor really was just an over- glorified librarian, she still rather liked the man. He was friendly and helpful if you took the time to ask him. The thing about Mayor Domino was that, because the man had absolutely nothing else to do, he spent a lot of his time reading the file and reference materials that he had clearance to. Of course, his clearance was pretty low but he was a little font of knowledge about the subjects he had access to. He'd definitely be able to help Elena with a little translation problem.

"Elena!" The mayor gave her an enthusiastic smile and Elena returned it with one of her one.
"Hello Mayor Domino."
They chatted for a few minutes. The man generally liked this young woman. She was polite, cheerful, outgoing, and, let's face it, one of the few people that would take the time to actually make small talk with him. Oh, he knew that most of the up-and-ups looked down on him because he was more or less a glorified clerk but she, at least, always took the time to be civil to him. Yes, Elena really was just the sweetest thing imaginable. Now, wouldn't it just be such a shame if the little Turk had to kill you?
"So, what brings you down here Elena, besides the desire to keep an old man company?"
"Well, actually Mayor, I was wondering if you could help me. You see, I've come across a Wutaian text that I have to translate but I don't know a word of the language!"
The Mayor nodded thoughtfully.
"Hmm, yes, Wutaian. That's a tricky one. Did you know that there are actually four main Wutaian dialects and that there can be up to twelve or thirteen different characters for a given word in each? Well, I was reading. . ."
Elena was happy to let him chatter on, certain that he'd get to the point eventually.
". . . but, you know, I think I might have just the thing."
That was when Elena gave him her very best smile.
"Oh Mayor, I just knew you would."

Elena sat in a little alcove with reference texts spread out around her and the little Wutaian book open in her lap. If anything, the Mayor had under-evaluated the difficulties that Elena would face. The problem was that the book didn't seem to be written in one of the main Wutaian dialects but in a confusing array of all four. As far as she could tell, it seemed to be like a collection them. It would start off in one and then abruptly change into another. Since she had no idea what each symbol meant in Wutaian, she couldn't do the easy Wutaian word to English equivalent translation. First, she had to look up a symbol in one of the volumes, which of course wasn't easy because there was no simple way to skim through the thousands of Wutaian symbols in each book. Even though the texts were organized by subject and by alphabetical order, since Elena had no idea what each symbol actually meant she had to go through the painstaking process of searching every page for the desired one. Once she found the Wutaian word it corresponded to then she could look up its English translation. It took her roughly twenty minutes to do each symbol.
That didn't mean that she hadn't made much process though. She had translated a full line of the first page of the little book before she had been distracted by something she hadn't noticed when she had first opened the volume. On the top left cover of the front flap of the book there was a tiny inscription in delicate handwriting. When Elena had noticed the two tiny glyphs that made up Tseng's name, the only two Wutaian letters that she knew, she had decided to devote her time to translating the inscription. It had taken her a good two and a half hours but eventually Elena had translated it.

Tseng,
For when you can't find the words.
Maiya.

Elena had stared at those simple lines for a long, long time. She could almost imagine a slight Wutaian woman smiling when she wrote them. The book had been a present then? From whom? And what had she meant by those words? Even more important, what had she meant to Tseng?
Elena was embarrassed by the slightly jealous thought and pushed it away. After all, she didn't have the right to be jealous. Besides, whoever the mystery woman was, Tseng had obviously parted from her a long time ago, probably when he had left Wutai. He had never mentioned her, whoever she was. Well, it wasn't like he would have. There was a reason anything to do with Wutai was strictly taboo in the Turks offices.
Elena leaned back in her chair, holding the book in her hands. She sighed a little, thinking. It was hard being a Turk though not for the reasons a person would expect. It had nothing to do with her job. . . well, not a lot to do with her job. Of course, it was best not to dwell on that. She had no regrets, of course, but it did no good to think about it.
The thing that was hardest about her job was to be so close to three men, to depend on them, and to know so little about them. She supposed that they didn't really know much about her either. Hadn't even Tseng been surprised when Elena had told him about the Inn?
What do you do when you work with people, trust them with your life, and yet couldn't honestly say their age? How can you call someone your friend if it seems all you have between you are secrets?
Of course, they didn't really see it that way. Well, not all of the time. Elena didn't usually think about it that much. It was really just the little Wutaian book, this embodiment of secrecy, which made her think of it now.
Thinking of it, Elena couldn't help but remember that night at the bar, back when she had first come to the Turks, when Reno had tried to explain it to her in his own way. To this day, Elena couldn't remember what had started the conversation. Rude had made some off-handed remark and Reno, being Reno, had suddenly turned cryptic with that glimmer in his eye. . .

----

"No secrets. . ." Reno said, looking pointedly at Rude.
". . . No lies," the other finished.
Reno laughed suddenly and downed his shot.
"Damn straight."
Elena looked around the table, confused.
"I don't get it."
Reno laughed quietly and so did Rude. Elena looked to Tseng.
"What is it?"
Reno grinned at Tseng mischievously
"Well, should we tell her?"
Tseng shrugged
"I told you."
"Yeah. . . but you practically made me beg Tseng."
Tseng chuckled softly and shook his head a little, as if sharing a joke. It was wearing thin on Elena.
"Just tell me guys!"
Reno's grin grew wider
"What's it worth to you, rookie?"
His eyes seemed to sparkle a little more and Elena's widened when she realized what he was suggesting. She swatted him in the arm.
"Reno!"
Reno laughed again. When he was done, Rude nudged him in the arm and nodded, once. Reno looked over at Tseng who also gave him the most minute of nods. Reno looked back to Elena again, his eyes suddenly serious, and Elena had to suppress a shiver.
"It's what we keep from each other," he said, his voice oddly quiet.
"What?"
"Between Turks. . . between us, there are no secrets and no lies. Ever."

----

Of course, it wasn't really a lie if nobody asked you. If you pretended to ignore a secret, then it wasn't really there, now was it? It was why nobody talked about Wutai, why nobody ever looked too long at Reno's scars. Simply put, they didn't really want to talk about it and you didn't really want to know. It was just better not to look, not to ask. Then, they could pretend like there weren't secrets at all and everything was okay. And she and Rude, what of them? Their secrets were more subdued but they were there all the same. Rude with his quiet nature, his dependable strength. . . and the red, red, blood against his soft black skin. And Elena. . . well, what was a pretty, sweet blonde girl doing in the Turks anyway?

Elena sighed again and looked back at the papers on the table in front of her. Pushing those depressing thoughts out of her head, she tried to get back to work.

Elena started when she heard a knock at the door. She blinked her eyes back into to focus to look at the Mayor as he slid in. He had his jacket on and a little briefcase in his hands.
"Well, I'm heading out now Elena."
"Oh," she said surprised. "What time is it Mayor?"
He smiled a little.
"Oh, around 5:30 I'm guessing."
Her eyes widened.
"5:30?"
"Time does fly, doesn't it?"
"I suppose it does."
The Mayor laughed a little.
"Well, good night Elena."
"Good night Mayor."
As he was about to leave the room, Elena called out to him again.
"Oh, Mayor! I'll be taking these home tonight."
She gestured to a few of the volumes on the desk. He didn't have to power to stop her of course because Elena outranked him but she just wanted to be polite.
"Of course Elena. Good night."
"Good night." When the door slid shut, Elena felt an empty rumble in her tummy. Putting a hand on her stomach she looked at the papers at the desk.
Okay, she thought. One quick stop to the cafeteria and then back to work.
She left the room in its disorder. It wasn't like anyone else would be coming down there anyways.

Some time later, Elena looked up with some satisfaction at the page she had translated fully. The more she worked at it, she easier the work became because she was starting to recognize some of the Wutaian symbols. She stretched her arms a little and winced at the pain that shot up her back, an unwanted result of the cramped position she had held. She yawned and decided it was about time to go home. Elena wasn't quite she what time it was but she guessed it was around nine o'clock. She gathered up her books but then realized that she had left her computer logged on upstairs. Being a little compulsive about that sort of thing, she decided to go back up to turn it off.

Elena turned away from her workstation, satisfied. She picked up her shoulder bag and walked away from her desk. As she went through her doorway, she bumped right into Tseng who was walking in. Being much smaller than him, she bounced right off him.
Elena grunted as she hit the ground, the contents of her shoulder bag spilling. Pens, pencil, eyeliner and other forms of makeup, everything clattered to the floor. Tseng immediately bent down to help her and Elena was thankful that her books had remained hidden inside the bag. Suddenly embarrassed, Elena flushed deep red and started to gather up her things.
"Sorry Tseng," she stammered. "I didn't see you."
Tseng handed her her compact.
"I saw a light on. I didn't know you were still in the building."
She hadn't imagined it was possible but she flushed an even deeper red.
"Well, I was, um, I was, down in the um, well, see, I needed some books, um, so, I, I was down on the Mayor's level!" She finished hurriedly, her cheeks burning even more fiercely. She frantically tried to gather her things.
"You, you really don't have to help. I'm um fine, really."
Tseng handed her a pen, ignoring her last little line. When she took it, she brushed his fingertips, and it felt like an electric shock shot up her arm. She tried to snatch her hand away but Tseng was too fast. He took her hand in his, his fingers curled around hers.
Elena couldn't help but look up at him then. She still thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Those deep, dark eyes held her, captivated her, and she felt herself being drawn into them.
Tseng bent forward and kissed her, deeply. It was a strong kiss, despite their crouched position. Elena bent forward to lean into the kiss more, and they nearly toppled over. She almost wished they would lie down right there, on the floor of her office.
When they broke apart, they were both panting, but Tseng's face stayed close to hers. He bent forward to whisper in her ear.
"Come home with me," he said quietly. Elena swallowed harshly and felt suddenly torn. There was really only one answer that she could give though.

Elena sat in the passenger seat of Tseng's car, her shoulder bag on her lap. She usually took the train to work but Tseng always drove. She couldn't remember who had told her that, Rude or Reno. Her eyes darted over to Tseng who was watching the road in front of him. Feeling like she had committed some sort of a crime, Elena lowered her eyes and looked only at the little bag in her hands. Her knuckles whitened.

He was on her almost as soon as they entered the apartment. Just like before, they stumbled towards the bedroom. Just like before, Elena couldn't help but cry out her pleasure as he found his way into her over, and over, and over again.

Tseng was sleeping on his stomach, on of his arms carelessly thrown across Elena's form. She looked at him for she didn't know how long before slowly, carefully, climbing out of his bed. The clock on his nightstand was reading 1:34 in bold red letters. As quietly as she could, Elena dressed herself and left the apartment. Perhaps another woman might have been nervous at walking alone so late at night but not Elena. The slight weight of her pistol was a comforting presence as she began her walk home.

Elena unlocked her door and walked into her apartment, head down. Her little tabby cat Tom came up to her and begged for attention. She absently ran a hand over his back before heading off into her room.

Elena crawled into her bed and curled up into a little ball. Then, she finally let herself cry.