Part II

So. . . my oneshot got out of control. Again. Someday I'll master this whole brevity thing. But I couldn't manage to change their feelings so quickly. Stubborn, the both of them.

Disclaimer: (see Part I)

"You think you can just send something like this to me and I'll. . . hello." The way her eyes went large when she was surprised was quite fetching, Rufus thought to himself.

Rufus rose from the table, as did the other two men sitting there with him whom Tifa hadn't seen until a sentence into her prepared rant. Good thing she hadn't gotten to the swearing part yet. It wasn't that she felt bad about abusing him in front of other people, but her own sense of social propriety made her falter a little. She had never been in what could be termed "polite" society, and these men held themselves with an air of authority that was daunting for long enough to make her think. However, these men looked embarrassed and held their eyes down. Mortified, she realized she was wearing the short hospital gown and nothing else. Her shapely front and lean legs were practically on display.

"Why Tifa, I know you get rushed sometimes, but perhaps you should repair to the bathroom before you return. I explained to Mr. Jancy and Mr. Trelebor that I was visiting this place accompanied, and they are eager to know more about you." The way sly amusement slid through his words made Tifa's wounded pride bristle.

She puckered her lips and forced a smile as she marched towards the door in the direction Rufus had indicated. There were two, but she chose the closest one and it turned out to be the correct option. Everything in the bathroom was chrome and black. It was like she had been swallowed into a black hole, and she desperately didn't want to stay there. The shiny dark gold material in her hands mocked her. She should march right back out there and yell at him, but instead she found herself changing and listening at the door for any indication that this was just another set up to try her patience.

". . . assume that the arrangements have been made." Rufus's voice. Tifa scowled without thinking about it.

"Yes, Mr. Shinra, and this is the last of the paperwork to make your position official. Can we expect you in Junon in the next few days?" It was a whispery voice and Tifa strained to hear it.

Rufus laughed, but there wasn't any cheer to it. "I have other matters to attend to before I return to Junon. Ready the parade for a week from today."

The other voice interjected, gravelly, irritated. "I must insist, that would not be very economical. We already lost a great deal of money from all the. . . incidents. . . in Midgar. Further delay will only drive our financial situation into further disrepair."

"I'm well aware of the consequences, and I'm not without my reasons Jancy."

"I'm not meaning to be disrespectful, President Shinra, but as your accountant I must insist that a week break will greatly damage the company. And with all the important projects. . ."

"I agree with Jancy," It was the whispery voice again. Tifa paused in mid pull to straighten the dress around her body so she could hear. "Not just for reasons of money, but right now there is a lot of fear in the Shinra employees. Word of how the last President died as well as the general rumors that had been going around about Sephiroth. . ."

There was a bang, as if someone had hit the table with a fair amount of force. "Then I will make a statement. I shall have my week and you shall not tell me how to run my own company. I don't care that you were my father's lawyer. I asked you here because I thought you could help me. If you're just going to make trouble for me, then maybe I should find someone who will fix problems instead of complaining about them."

"I'm sorry, President, we won't question your reasoning. But we are advisors, and consider that our advice." They backed down too quickly. If it had been Tifa in the room then she would have told him that it was no way to run a business and make him get back to work. This was a poor time to take a vacation. Why, she had never once taken more than a day off in her work at the Seventh Heaven, and her hard work had paid off in that it was the most successful business in her sector.

Until it had been hopelessly crushed. Moving on. . .

Time to go out and face the firing squad. She was reasonably sure that this was not just a set up to corner her. But that he would invite her to a real dinner with important Shinra employees confused her more than she was willing to admit to. What game was he playing now? She realized with some horror that the comb she had been struggling to use to make her hair neater had to be his. It dropped to the ground with a clatter and she tried not to touch anything else. Tifa washed her hands and walked out of the bathroom with brisk steps. A bathroom was too personal, like a bedroom, and she didn't want to be surrounded by Rufus' presence so completely.

The men rose again as she entered and sat down after she did. Someone, a nurse, came in and left salad in front of them all. Tifa barely noticed as she attempted to field questions.

"How did you come to be here?" Jancy smiled at her and she tried to pretend it wasn't the low dip in the neckline that prompted it.

"I was kidnapped."

"I didn't realize Mr. Shinra was such a romantic." He didn't grasp that her usage of the word was not positive and happened to be very literal.

Rufus stabbed at his salad. "I doubt Tifa would use that term."

He watched while Tifa turned from red to purple and then back to red. When she was in the bathroom, distracted by other thoughts, she hadn't fully grasped what her part in this situation must look like. As it was, Tifa understood too well. She was his floozy! They hadn't asked her last name because there was no need, most likely. She was his conquest of the month, or whatever, and she was pissed about it.

Rufus, seeming to sense her near to explosion, reached across the table to squeeze her hand. It was, shockingly, painful and she looked up at him suddenly. Don't make a scene or you'll pay, said his half smile coupled with the pain in her hand.

"That's right. There are a lot of words I'd use to describe Rufus, but not that one. He's cold and bastardly to the core." Even after that, he let go of her hand. Tifa hadn't said anything telling, really, or untrue. She speared herself some greens and resolutely chewed to keep from having to offer any more bitter words.

"She knows me so well. Can't have my image suffering." Rufus smirked at the two men who laughed nervously. If the last president had been unstable, he had also been a fool. Rufus was far too smart for them to humor him without him knowing, and unstable enough to react viciously if he was displeased by it.

The rest of the supper passed without incident. Tifa kept her mouth full and Rufus and the two advisors talked business the rest of the meal. It was intensely boring, but at least the food was good. The dress, however, was uncomfortable. She couldn't slouch and chance gaping out the front, but when she sat up straight the skirt, which was slit, pulled back in her lap to expose more thigh under her napkin. Attempting to stay covered for the whole meal was the only challenge that occupied her. In the end it was the slit under the napkin that ended up being the loser. She preferred to keep her feminine mystery rather than spill her assets into the berry sorbet.

"Now, gentlemen, if you would excuse me, Tifa and I have some business of our own to discuss." All the men rose when she did and they made their apologetic final statements to her before clearing out. Tifa ground her teeth as she thought of how Rufus' comment must have sounded to those men.

She numbly watched them walk out before confronting Rufus about this little episode.

"What the hell was. . ."

"Did you enjoy the dinner?" He looked squarely into her eyes and she felt a chill. Something about the meeting with his accountant and lawyer had displeased him, and she would rather he didn't have that killing glint in his eye.

She pushed her hair forward in an attempt to conceal more of her front from the deep vee that felt like it was opening halfway to her bellybutton. An exaggeration, but she still felt exposed to his glare and therefore at a disadvantage. "What's wrong with you? Aren't you going to grill me for answers now?"

"I wasn't planning on it. I had simply thought your presence would make this dinner meeting less intolerable. Hence the dress, as if it were just the two of us I wouldn't care if you had shown up in that hideous hospital gown." Casually, he wandered away from the dining area and back to the couch. Outside it was cloudy; there were no stars to view.

"So why did I have to pretend to be your bimbo?"

There was silence from the other side of the room, and eventually she wandered over to confront him. Rufus wasn't getting away with this sort of manipulative crap. He wasn't the only one here who could ask questions. Whether she would get answers. . .

"Go back to your room."

"You mean my cell."

He didn't even flinch. "Your cell, if you so insist. I'll come get you tomorrow for our discussion. My head hurts and I don't wish to spar with you at the moment." The wave he gave brought orderlies seemingly out of nowhere. Really, they had been waiting by the elevator doors this whole time and she had put them out of her mind. At least when they escorted her down this time it was not forcible and she got to set the pace.

Tifa tried to remember the things that had been said during dinner and drew a blank. Even her opportunity at espionage had been a wash. She just didn't think in a devious enough manner. Was there anything wrong with wanting straightforward questions and answers? It seemed easy enough. She wanted to know what was going on with her interrogation and Rufus kept sending her away or confusing her. Well, if he was trying to spin her around until she admitted something, it wasn't going to work. That was a certainty in her mind and she walked into her room and sat on her bed without even waiting for the bolt to lock.

The new President Shinra might just be under a lot of pressure. That could explain away some of his erratic actions. After all, the list of things they had rundown over dinner had been horrifyingly comprehensive and Rufus had made what sounded like informed decisions about all of them. He knew his company inside and out, and to keep track of half the world like that could drive anyone a little batty. She didn't want to give him any benefit of the doubt, but her Seventh Heaven had been the hardest job she's ever had. Harder than being a terrorist, even. To manage even down to the local level every branch of Shinra must take a powerfully directed and organized mind.

As Tifa leaned back against the wall next to her rock hard bed she thought back to the beginning of the night's conversation, where Rufus had insisted on having a vacation. If he was under a lot of stress, even cracking under the pressure of taking on his father's responsibilities, then taking a vacation would be important. Maybe she fit into this vacation somehow, as a form of amusement.

While it sounded galling, she could use this to her advantage. Tifa knew she was a likeable person, when she wanted to be, and men had always responded particularly well to her. She could attempt to be more than a diversion to him. If she could become human to him then maybe she could make him think twice about those experiments. Keeping her identity secret just that much longer would keep the heat off of Cloud. She would do it for Cloud. It felt like it was all she could do for him. Like a parting gift.

Guiltily, she stopped running her hands over the fine material of her dress. It was satiny and soft and far more expensive looking than anything she had ever bought for herself excluding weaponry. It would have been a nice gift if it had come from someone she didn't hate so much. Then the realization hit that she wouldn't be able to expect a gift from Cloud now or any other time in the future if he was really going out with. . . that girl.

The dress felt even more decadent and valuable to her now. Tifa wished she had her ugly cotton hospital gown back.

Rufus tried to shove all thoughts of Tifa from his mind. What had seemed like a good idea, a funny way to aggravate everyone around him for his own amusement, had turned into something serious and far more disturbing the second Tifa had stepped out of the bathroom in the gold gown he had had bought at the Gold Saucer and flown over. Her malevolent eyes had been on him the whole meal whenever she wasn't eating and she hadn't seen the way that the other two men in her presence had been looking at her. Rufus hadn't missed it. Their eyes, hungry for something they shouldn't have wanted, changed his mind to go from outing her as the Ancient thought to be lost and watching everyone in the room squirm to placing her firmly under his protection as his doxy. The lawyer and the accountant couldn't help but glance her over because she was a beautiful woman in a slinky dress, but Rufus found that he was just as susceptible to her too and that hadn't been part of the plan.

And the girl had been oblivious. Rufus knew he was attractive. He'd like to think that if he wasn't as rich and powerful as he was that women would still flock to him as they did at every formal gathering. Tonight he had been at his best, a commander among influential men, making decisions that would effect people across every continent. . . and she had been more interested in the prime cut of beef on her plate. That rankled more than a little. In fact, it had rankled so much that he couldn't even collect himself enough to talk to her civilly after dinner.

He mused to himself until he walked into his bathroom and found his comb on the floor and her discarded white gown. Tomorrow, and for the rest of his vacation, he was going to blow away her expectations to such a degree that she was going to voluntarily tell him everything about herself and what secrets she held in her blood. He threw the gown in a cupboard beside the shower and forced himself to forget about her until the next day. In the mirror, he confronted flushed cheeks and knew that his emotions were trying to get the better of him. This was going to be a tricky project if he was going to stay totally uninvolved. That form of hers alone invited distraction.

After splashing some water on his face and schooling his features into disturbing blandness, he walked out with the intention of getting her more clothing. He would not be able to make any progress with the distraction of the gold dress mocking his efforts. There was no way he was going to make the same mistake twice.

When Tifa awoke the next morning there were more clothes ready for her. The gold dress was almost hopelessly wrinkled from her sleeping in it so she was glad for the change of clothes. Plain pants, a plain shirt. . . already her suspicion grew. These were sensible clothes, items that she would not be upset at wearing in the least, and it seemed out of place that he would be trying to be nice to her. It took some time for her groggy mind to remember that she had to encounter him now as if he were not her enemy.

She was still telling herself that as she finished buttoning her pants and turned to find Rufus leaning to one side in the door with his arms crossed. Tifa felt the first flush of anger as she beheld his sleepy smile.

"How long were you watching me? Why didn't I hear you?" Seriously, when he did things like this it was hard to not think of him as an enemy—someone she would not mind punching until his face resembled ground meat.

Rufus tossed her a hairbrush, new, with good metal bristles that wouldn't break. "Long enough. Ready for breakfast?" This time the smile showed his teeth, and Tifa felt her heart speed up a little as she noticed how today his hair was not slicked back but fell soft and messy around his face. Instead of the usual turtleneck he wore a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and of course those impractical white pants. Only someone who didn't do real work for a living could wear white clothes. Tifa tried to be scornful to stop herself from staring.

"Of course I'm ready. What else am I going to do?" She put more strength into those words than she meant to. Be nice, remember? Tifa ran the brush through her hair a few times and then held it up with a sorry attempt at a gracious smile on her face. "Thanks."

"Anything for you, Tifa." His moods were enigmatic. Damn the man, but he seemed to change his attitude every few seconds when she was around. "Shall we?"

She tossed the brush on the bed and strode out behind him. There were no guards around them, and Tifa wondered if, in addition to not locking her cell, he was also not posting guards around her cell either. Maybe the experiments had already begun. Tifa held back the surge of anger at the thought and followed Rufus as he told her about the facility and what it did. Be his friend, Tifa, she reminded herself.

". . . and while I'll admit we do have modest research and development labs in the basement levels, largely this facility works as a Convalescent Home for those injured permanently from the Shinra company and its subsidiaries."

"Who pays for all of this?"

"Well, the employees pay a modest sum for insurance but that covers barely a fourth of the expenses for this place. It's effectively a free service. A sort of social service."

Tifa tried not to be cynical, and failed. "And I suppose this makes everything else ok."

"Pardon?"

"All the hostile takeovers, the destruction of free trade and general freedom of choice and lifestyle for everyone on the planet. Not to mention the pollution. . ."

Rufus stopped, frown etched deeply into his face. The eyes which had been laughing now flashed angry blue. For a moment he again reminded Tifa of Cloud, and then he opened his mouth. "Who pays most of the people on this planet? Who provides aid during disasters? Who established vast communication networks and modernizations to make life more convenient for the majority of people everywhere? Order has a price, Tifa. We are the government. We're better, we do everything they should do and we still turn a profit." He ended with a hiss and Tifa knew that she had hit a sore topic with him.

In some ways it hadn't occurred to her before that the villains she fought against had as strong a set of ideals as she did. When she had blown up reactors it seemed as if it was the only right way, but there were other ways to see everything. Rufus was trying to bring order? To give people jobs? To raise the quality of life? In his mind, he was the hero. A sobering thought when she hadn't even had food yet today and her stomach caused her more pain than her smarting sense of reality. She needed to amend this breach in relations and get back on track with her "friend" plan.

The smile she gave Rufus was one she only brought out on special occasions. She had used it when Cloud had stepped into the Seventh Heaven after years of absence. Now, she was using it on Rufus and maybe even upping the wattage to be safe. "I'm sorry. Can we just have a nice meal and try to start things over for today?"

He blinked and then seemed to evaluate something in his head. It seemed to Tifa like he was slightly surprised by his own outburst. When he finally nodded and offered her his arm she bit the corner of her lip before taking it. Their forearms locked and she felt a chill all the way down her spine. He was saying things to her, but for another few minutes all she could concentrate on was their skin mingling, the way the hair on his arm was just as soft as hers, and how his skin was so much paler. The muscles were very well developed, and she wondered when he had time in his schedule to work out. . .

"Huh?" Rufus had stopped them and Tifa looked up with a vague smile. She hoped he hadn't asked her a question, and she really hoped he hadn't been aware that she had been so engrossed in his arm.

"I said, we're here. I need my arm back."

"Oh, yes." She beheld the array of foods and sat down so she could make her selections. Rather than let him get the upper hand again, this time she started the conversation. "Why are you taking such a long vacation?" He narrowed his eyes at her and Tifa felt compelled to explain. "I heard you yelling when I was in the bathroom last night." She colored when she realized how meek she sounded. The friend act was too out of character; even she thought her acting was forced. It was hard to defiantly bite into a bagel but she tried, and chewed while she waited for an answer.

"Have you ever taken power of an enormous company after your headquarters have been demolished by a ragtag group of weirdoes?" Tifa frowned as she chewed. "Then how would you know how long it should take to set everything up for prime functionality again? Besides, I can take care of as much business here as I need to. It isn't really a vacation. Just because I want to delay all those stupid ceremonies. . ."

Peaches. Tifa looked at them longingly before grabbing one from the bowl of fruit and slicing it up. She had never eaten so well as in the past day. Up until now she had survived on economical instant noodles and as many veggies as were practical in her budget. Food was heaven. "What stupid ceremonies?"

Rufus picked at his food, seemingly having lost his appetite. "The 'here comes the new boss just like the old boss' farces. People would throw confetti and shout if I were a two headed donkey. It's a waste of my time and I don't feel up to it yet."

"Sounds to me like you're just being sulky." The peach was wonderful; she closed her eyes to enjoy the sweet flavor and refocused on Rufus when she heard him coughing into his water.

"I don't need to listen to you. How could you understand?"

Tifa paused, stomach churning as she had a vision of the blood covered room she had been in when all of this began. ". . . this is about your father, isn't it?"

"What?" Rufus seemed really confused. He leaned forward on the table, tilting his head and giving her a scrutinizing glance.

"I think you don't want to take your father's place just yet. Even if you weren't all that close, he was your father. . ." She had fallen into this 'friend' act too easily. The sort of liberties she would take talking to someone she trusted were not yet appropriate, but acting had slid into mental reality too quickly. Tifa didn't even realize the waters she was paddling around in had clear warnings.

Rufus had lost all trace of the perplexity and it was as if an icy replica had taken his place. "Need I tell you again? Sephiroth did me a favor. There was no more useless being on this planet than my father."

"Just because you didn't like him doesn't mean you weren't connected. I mean, when I lost my. . ."

"Get out." Rufus rose and pointed to the elevator door.

"Hey," Tifa felt like she was right, and she didn't like that she was once again being subjected to his childish mood swings.

"I said, get out. You know where your cell is. Go back there until I have need of you." The spoiled child in him was in full force. Tifa wanted to smack him. They would never get anywhere if he threw her out as soon as she said something he didn't want to hear.

If she had to go, she was going to make a big exit. She grabbed an apple in each hand, marched over to the door, flipped him off and yelled. "This is why you could never have any real friends! As soon as someone tells you what you need to hear, as opposed to what you want to hear, you banish them as if you were some sort of king. I hope you choke on that inflated sense of self, your majesty." Then, she flipped him another rude gesture and stepped into the open elevator.

The doors closed, breaking the lock their eyes held on one another.

Then they opened again.

"I don't know the code to make this work." Tifa said through clenched teeth. Rufus smirked triumphantly, and sauntered over to push in the code. He gave her a mocking salute as the doors closed again and she glowered until she was out of sight.

So much for being his friend. Her honesty had foiled her again. She had already failed and it wasn't even the end of breakfast yet. It would probably be dissection on some metal slab by lunch.

At least her clothes were comfortable.

Rufus let his hand down from the salute he had sent Tifa off with and marched straight over to tip the entire contents of the table onto the expensive rug below it with a growl. He went out of his way to do everything right and she screwed him up again!

He had dressed in a way he was sure would catch her attention, and it had. When she had been dreamily staring at him on the way here he had been so pleased that he had circled them around the same hallway twice before leading them to the elevator. Except for one little incident, her company had been just what he wanted: nearly fawning. It was almost too good to be true, and then she had proven it to be with her stupid comments. . .

Why did she affect him so much? No one else could drive him to react like this. He was calm, collected, efficient, but around Tifa he didn't feel like he was any of those things. And it didn't help that the woman was so damned gorgeous! Even when she was doing something as simple as eating a peach. . . the face she had made had forced him choke his water down the wrong pipe and his palms to break out into a sweat. It had taken more self control than he was comfortable with to keep from kissing her sour face as he bent in to press the elevator code.

Disdainfully, Rufus looked down at the mess on the floor. He sighed and called for someone to come take care of it. Meanwhile, he crashed down on the couch, one arm over his face, as if he could guard himself against remembering her words.

That he missed his father was preposterous. The man had been reprehensible. He could barely run a business and it had been luck and a little bit of his devious and evil nature that had let the old fool climb to the top and stay there. The bastard didn't even have a goal other than to have power. Rufus knew better. It wasn't enough to be at the top, he needed to know he had created something to last. His father had honestly been an obstacle to this all important life goal.

Why was he justifying this? It had been something he hadn't needed to even think about fifteen minutes ago!

Surely the girl's words didn't have any lasting effect on him. Only a fool was swayed by something so shallow. He would be better off to forget about her and authorize the testing. She'd probably be a vegetable by the day after tomorrow once they started fiddling around with her brain. The initial malicious rush of glee at the prospect was followed by an even stronger rush of panic.

He almost wished that she had just gotten away with the others. Then he would never have had to deal with this.