Edited 2 January 2006: Corrected a few more errors and did a few slight rephrasings.
Edited 25 December, 2005: Made some minor changes and additions. And thanks for the review, somepersonxP!
Author's Notes: The chapters seem to be getting progressively longer o.O; Perhaps i should have cut this one up. i wonder how many people will read it all the way through XD; And yes, the title is a lame pun. But puns are fun T.T;
Thank you for those who reviewed since the last time! Glad you're enjoying it, Cab! Lol, yes, he was a bit inconsiderate in his choice of collapsing-space XD i'm happy that you like my Reno so far, Erialti, and hopefully this chapter will keep your interest alive :P And yup, Tseng must have amazing self-control, to be able to last so many years with Reno! If it's not obvious, the pairing will eventually be Reno/Isla,though i hope to build it up gradually and naturally. Still considering what other pairings to have, if any. i'm leaning towards (at least hinting) at Tseng/Rufus. i'm open to suggestions :D Finally, thank you to Oh Boy Enjoi and Skrap for Favouriteing this story!
... okay, i lied; not quite fiished with the notes yet. XD;
i did a cheap doodle of Isla earlier in the week: img dot photobucket dot com slash albums slash v227 slash isilme slash Isla dot jpg. Possibly not the final design, but there's the link for anyone interested in taking a look.
To those who celebrate, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!.
Disclaimer: Reno, Rude, Scarlet, Tifa, Reeve, Cloud Strife and Tseng are property of Square Enix.
Islands
Chapter 4: Mrs. and Misunderstandings
09:57:02... 09:57:03... 09:57:04...
The bus-load of school children - the third of the week - was due to arrive at the turn of the hour. The tall man in the well-known blue suit stood to one side in the main lobby of his company's headquarters. Trademark dark glasses spanned his equally unreadable face.
09:57:15...
"I still don't get why we got stuck with this, yo. Shouldn't it be PR or HR or whoever's job?"
Rude continued to stare ahead. His partner was squatted on the floor next to him, rocking back and forth on his heels. Back, forth, back, forth, back, forth. That man never seemed to stay still, even when sitting. The only time his long-time partner ever recalled seeing Reno remain in one position for longer than two minutes was when the latter was asleep. Then the time bar went up to about ten minutes. He'd probably given his mother hell when he was in the womb. Back, forth, back forth. No wonder he ate so much but remained so skinny. Back, forth. Either that, or he had worms in his stomach. Rude was still shocked sometimes - as much as Rude could be shocked, that is - by how much Reno could fit into his mouth. He swore that the man had a distensible jaw.
"Seriously, man, Turks aren't cut out as babysitters. Us especially." Back, forth, hop, shake foot; back, forth.
Rude decided not to voice the opinion that he sometimes felt like he was on constant babysitting duty while around his red-haired friend.
"Elena maybe, she's probably genetically encoded to like babies and shit. God, do you remember that time in Mideel? I practically had to pry her off that little kid. What is it with women and kids?"
"... maternal instinct." 09:59:46...
"Yeah, probably. Can you imagine Scarlet as a mom though? Scary shit." Back, forth, back... "Pity the sod that knocks her up. Nine months of a weapons specialist on perpetual PMS." Reno affected an imitation of the female executive's voice. "Can you get me some chocolate, honey? ... GET ME SOME GODDAMN CHOCOLATE NOW, BEEOTCH, OR I'LL BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF! KYA HAHAHA!"
"..." 10:00:03... Rude glanced out towards the building's entrance as a bus pulled up. "They're here." Thank Holy.
Reno sighed loudly and stood up, cracking and popping his knuckles as he did so. "Let's get this over with, yo." He adjusted his wrinkled blazer. Rude wondered if the dry cleaners gave him a discount for not needing to iron his clothes. On second thought, maybe not. They probably evened out the cost of removing the strange stains that the younger man seemed to collect on his garments like some kind of odd, wearable stamp collection. Reno glanced back from the his current position in front of the mirrored elevator doors. "Hey, let's go get a drink after this. I'll need one after a day with the brats."
The disembarking children and a teacher filed through the glass doors. A neat, single-file line soon formed up at the security check as the guards began meticulously scanning the visitors. "Can't." Rude shifted slightly and allegedly turned to watch. "... Plans."
Hands stilled momentarily on Reno's collar. One dark eyebrow arched. "Since when do you have plans? ... you going on a date?"
The large Turk didn't have to look at his companion to see the wide, teasing grin he knew was there. "... No."
"Aww, come on, Rude, you can tell me, yo!"
He cursed himself for saying anything; now Reno would continue wheedling and badgering him by turns until he'd exasperated the dark-skinned man into admitting his plans. Rude stared at the security check counter, silently willing them to hurry up as he sensed rather than heard the wily redhead approach. The bald man struggled to remain motionless and expressionless as a wiry arm slung itself around his broad shoulders. Despite what others may have thought, Rude was not immune to his feelings - something he knew that Reno was aware of, and would try to exploit, the sneaky bastard.
"Don't leave me in the dark, I thought we were friends," Reno whined.
No response.
Time for another tactic then. Reno crossed his arms and pouted. "You never tell me anything anymore!"
Eye darting sideways to the shorter man, Rude subconsciously shifted his weight onto the foot further away from him. Security continued to take their own sweet time.
"We never go out anymore, but you're never home either! And when I try to call your PHS, it's always busy! What are you hiding from me, Rudy?" Reno brought a hand to his heart and gasped exaggeratedly. A heartbroken sob filled the air. "Is there... is there someone else? Is that why you keep hiding from me? Tell me it isn't so, Rude, tell me anything, just say it isn't so!"
Behind his sunglasses, Rude squeezed his eyes shut and sighed inwardly, knowing that nothing he could do now short of knocking the redhead out would shut him up. As tempting as the prospect was, the other Turk didn't really want to deal with a class full of school children and their teachers on his own. Kids made him feel large, (well, larger than usual, he mentally amended,) clumsy and uncomfortable.
"Who is it? Tifa? Ahah! You're getting your 'drinks' at her bar, aren't ya?" Reno rounded on the silent man accusingly, waving a pointed finger under his nose. "Am I right? Answer me, man!"
Rude tried to tune out the ranting, returning to the sanctuary of his own thoughts. Much as he professed to hate them, Rude had observed over the years that Reno was actually fairly good at handling children - probably from being so much like an overgrown kid himself. He sighed again, wishing he could grab his friend by the ear and give him a time-out.
"Why, Rude, WHY? After I gave the best years of my life to you! Don't you love me anymore?" The large Turk looked on in resignation, half-heartedly trying to push Reno off as his friend threw his arms and legs around him to cling on like an oversized koala. Damn that man's vice-like grip. It wasn't fair that such a skinny fellow could cling that hard. "You're going to leave me, aren't you?" An over done sob emanated from the quite possibly deranged red head.
If he didn't have head-damage already, Rude swore he was going to correct that in a few seconds.
"Are you two gay?"
The duo froze suddenly at the inquisitive young voice that had spoken up. Add bodily damage to that too, Rude thought.
Both faces turned to face the newcomer. It was a boy, around nine or ten years old; one of the school children they'd be playing tour guide to. It seemed to Rude that the Fates had recruited Security for the day, and that they had a rotten sense of humour.
Reno quickly disengaged himself from Rude, who he noticed was looking slightly pale under his dark complexion, and snickered to himself. He dusted himself off and smiled widely, batting his eyelashes at his silent partner. "Well, as a matter of fact, kid - Ow!"
The large hand that had shot out to grip his ponytail relaxed a fraction, but didn't release it. "Letgoletgoletgo!"
"Behave," Rude's deep voice intoned warningly. "Orders," he added after a moment's thought.
Reno grumbled, cursing Rude, Reeve, Tseng, the boy, and his bad luck for getting stuck with the job. What were the orders again anyway? Reeve's voice - his real one, not the weird tone he used as Cait Sith; seriously, that man had issues if he liked to prance around pretending to be a stuffed cat, Reno thought - replayed in his head. Over all, I want you two to show the people of Midgar how much Shin-Ra cares for them, that we are trying to right the wrongs of the past and rebuild ourselves along with the city. We are not the uncaring corporation of the past. We are... like family!
The skinny Turk twitched. How the hell was he supposed to do that? And yeah, definitely issues, yo.
He glanced at Rude, but received no help there, though he felt his hair being relinquished. Asshole, he thought ungratefully. Aquamarine eyes flickered back to the skeptical kid. "Actually, no, you see I was just, er... I love working for Shin-Ra Inc.! Yup. It makes me so fu- um, fantastically happy to be able to come to work in this wonderful place every day that I want to hug everything! ... Like my best buddy Rude here!" He threw an arm around the taller man's shoulders and gave him a squeeze, before stepping himself and his abused hair away hurriedly. His poor hair, he swore it would need years of therapy to recover.
The skinny Turk grinned so wisely his face hurt. "I love my friends, don't you?"
Rude just stared blankly at the other man, wondering if pulling his ponytail had severed the blood supply to his brain.
"Just being in Shin-Ra fills me with feelings of love, peace, sunshine and rainbows. I love everything about Shin-Ra! Like... this pillar!" Reno strode up to an innocent pillar and threw his lanky form onto it, gripping it tightly. "I love ya, pillar! Thank you for supporting this amazing, environmentally friendly and socially conscious company!" Inside, the violated pillar wept.
The boy stared at the man in the blue, messy suit, and wondered if he was quite right in the head.
"Joshua! I told you not to run ahead! Come back here, please."
Three male sets of eyes turned to look to the source of the new voice, heads turning at various speeds.
"Sorry Miss Branwen." The boy slunk over to his teacher's side obediantly, although looking only vaguely regretful for his actions.
She seemed too distracted for the time being to notice this, however, staring as she was at the unwilling pillar's ornament. "You!"
Reno's own eyes had widened momentarily in similar recognition. He stopped molesting the building's support structure and grinned. "Why, hello there!" He turned to look at the boy again. "See? Shin-Ra makes me so happy that I want to hug everything!" A wicked sparkle glimmered with promise in his blue-green eyes, as they returned to regard the dark-haired woman.
She wasn't quite sure why, but some sense told it that it was a good idea to start backing away warily from the man, who had withdrawn his hands from his pockets where he'd shoved them a moment ago, and was advancing on her slowly with measured steps. "... what are you doing?" Her eyes darted nervously over his too-innocent looking face.
"Come're Isla, don't you want a hug?"
"No I don't... and don't you dare!"
His grin, if possible, seemed to stretch even wider as he stretched his arms out. Isla felt like a victim in a zombie movie.
She tried to wheel herself away more quickly, but he darted forward, and she squeaked as arms suddenly wrapped around her in a tight embrace. A flush of irritation and embarrassment bloomed on her cheeks, and he started laughing. She wanted to punch him for it, but her arms were unfortunately pinned to her sides. Isla coughed and tried to use an authoritative voice. "Reno, let go. Now."
Reno of course had never been one to respond well to authority figures.
"Nope. Don't want to." He smirked up at her cheekily. "Besides, as one of Shin-Ra's temporary ambassadors of sorts, I have been assigned to show our visitors just how warmly we embrace the people of Midgar. Just doing my job, yo."
"I don't think that you were meant to take that literally," she murmured, trying fruitlessly to shake him off her. He was thin, but had a grip tighter than a Rottweiler's, she realised, as Rude - and some of Reno's victims- had discovered before her.
He pretended not to hear her and bent his face discomfortingly close, inhaling. "You smell nice; almost edible, " he informed her a moment later with another maddening grin.
Her hands flexed and clenched in her lap. He blithely ignored her attempts to poke him in the stomach as she silently dismayed her decision to purchase a chair with detachable armrests, which she had left at home for greater portability. At least those items would have provided her with a small barrier from her strange neighbour right now.
Reno sniffed again and then tilted his head in contemplation, as if it was an everyday affair for him to pounce on and smell random women. Which, for all she knew, it was. "What is that, vanilla?" he asked conversationally, blinking innocently at her incredulous expression and deliberately misinterpreting it. "No? I could have sworn it was."
There was suddenly a loud yell that caused everyone in the lobby to freeze and stare, a crash, and finally a stream of colourful curses. Recognising the voice, the Shin-Ra employees soon shrugged and returned to their work.
Isla started and rubbed her ear as she looked up to see Rude towering over her, and a crumpled heap that she presumed to be Reno a few yards behind him. The redhead was still cursing loudly as he sat up, rubbing his head and back but appearing otherwise unhurt, his image more bruised by his unplanned flight and landing than his body. Rude kept his back to the man, unconcerned by the threats to his health, life, manhood and the like. She glanced slowly from one man to the other, then back again. The teacher gave the bald Turk a hesitant smile, not sure what the appropriate thing to say here was. "Thank you."
"No problem." She couldn't see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but there was a faint smile in the corners of his mouth.
Reno scowled and stuck out his tongue at Rude's back, while Isla bit her lip, trying not to laugh at his childish reaction.
He took the opportunity to study her from his position on the ground. They had seen each other a handful of times after the incident involving her window and his drunkeness, just in passing; most times these had been when he had rapped on her window and waved before crossing the street to go to the bar.
There had been something guarded about her all those times, despite the smile and wave she would give before returning to whatever she had been doing before the interruption.
When he'd first noticed this, Reno had thought about it for a short while and then shrugged it off, as he did many things in life when his mind could present no apparent answer. There was no point pursuing the thought for too long. If she didn't want to talk to him, that was fine; he wasn't desperate for company, and it wasn't like they were exactly friends either. Sure, circumstances had forced them together for a short time, but the choice of whether to continue the acquaintance was their own. Her decision had seemed clear enough. The usual bar he hung out at had reopened a few days later, and their occasional, awkward meetings came to an end.
Until today. He couldn't say that he had missed her - it would have been absurd since they had only really interacted a couple of times before - but it was nice seeing her again. Without her chopper and the cold atttitude, at least.
At that moment, something, or someone, rather, chose to step into his line of vision.
Reno looked up - not very far, he noted - at the face of a boy glowering down at him. It was a different child from before. There was something in this one's expression that reminded Reno of an angry bulldog. Smallish eyes, snub nose, chubby cheeks - yup, definite bulldog material. Bulldog glared at the Turk, arms crossed over his small chest. "Is this man bothering you, Miss Branwen?"
Isla wheeled herself forwards until she was next to the fallen Turk and the frowning student, and attempted to soothe the situation. "It's alright Thomas, he's... a friend."
The boy didn't look very convinced; quite understandable given the tone she had used, Reno thought, hearing the cool note slip back into her voice now that the excitement was over. Even a kid could pick that up. Again he wondered what lay behind the change. They had parted on good terms, and he was quite sure that he hadn't done anything to anger her. Had she been talking to someone about him? It didn't usually bother him overly much what anyone thought of him, but this attitude of hers was going to make things uncomfortable if he had to deal with her for the rest of the day. Though perhaps he could just let Rude deal with her, while he stayed somewhere out of the way.
On her end, Isla was indeed annoyed at and trying to ignore the red haired man, though the fact that he was sprawled on the ground near by made it hard to. A thrill of irritation that began to morph into anger threaded through her, as her eyes flickered to him momentarily and a particular conversation she'd had with Sheila resurfaced in her mind; but she forced the memory down for now and firmly pressed a smile onto her face. It would do no good to be surly, especially not in front of her class. She had to set a good example. She'd just try to retain a polite distance for the rest of the day, and everything should be fine. Then she could go home and forget about what an unprincipled, disgusting bastard he was... Temper, Isla. A deep breath, and she felt the control return enough for her to continue. "Really, don't worry." A bit of the strain left her smile. "Can you help me line everyone up when they get through the security check? I'll be over shortly. And keep an eye on Joshua for me."
Unaware of anything but the mission that had been laid before him, Thomas puffed up his chest slightly and smiled. "Of course, Miss Branwen. You can count on me." The boy aimed a final glare at the still seated Turk, I'm watching you, and turned to ran back to the entrance of the building, grabbing and dragging his classmate along as he went.
"All your kids that friendly?" Reno asked with raised brows after the children had departed and a short lull had fallen over the remaining adults.
"Sorry about that; he's a bit... protective of me." Isla laughed slightly and shook her head. "He's a good kid." A short pause. "Are you alright?"
"Hm? Yeah." Reno sprang to his feet, as if to demonstrate the fact. He could tell she was struggling to make polite conversation despite her unexplained dislike of him, and wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or appreciative of the effort. "Takes much more than that to put me out of commission."
"I can try again," a deep voice interjected.
"Screw you, Rude." Reno rearranged his clothes and hair as they talked. Oh well, if she was trying to play nice, he supposed he could too for a while at least. "Oh. Isla, Rude. Real name's Rudolph, but his nose doesn't glow." Reno's usual smirk made its return. "I'm sure a bit of Mako could change that though..."
A vein in Rude's forehead twitched, but he remained silent, preferring to ignore the jest and observe the other two from behind his shades. The Turk recalled his partner mentioning the wheelchair-bound woman a while ago, something about breaking into her apartment while drunk. He wondered if that was the cause of the slight hostility she seemed to have towards the other man. He supposed he couldn't blame her, if that was the case. Rude sighed, understandable or not, that wasn't gong to make the rest of his day any more comfortable.
"Wow, aren't we lucky! Two big boys in blue as our tour guides... And you naughty minx, Is, hogging them for yourself!" A woman with a pamphlet in hand walked over to the current trio after clearing the security desk, coming to a graceful halt beside the wheelchair. White teeth flashed when she smiled. A little too widely, Rude thought. "Hi."
Isla sighed and ignored the teasing. "Shiela, this is, ah, Rude." Isla paused as the two shook hands and exchanged greetings briefly. Hogging these two? Not likely. Not the red headed one, especially. You can have him - oops, already did, my mistake. Darn it, Sheila, what were you thinking? "Rude, Mrs.-" he thought she glanced at Reno in particular here, "- Shiela Hanslow."
He had been surprised to look up and see the brunette walk through the security check point a few minutes ago, and had been even more so when she had come over and introduced herself as Isla's coworker. Small Planet indeed. As if sensing his thoughts, the woman looked towards him, eyelids dropping slightly as she smiled up at him. Reno returned it with a smirk, head dipping slightly in acknowledgement. He glanced back at Isla beside her, only half-listening as the violet-eyed woman introduced Rude to her friend. Little Miss Priss and Wildcat Sheila working together, imagine that. Never figured her as a teacher. Then again, he didn't recall there being much in the way of conversation about their jobs when he had met Sheila roughly six months ago...
Reno frowned suddenly, something Isla saying filtering through his thoughts and dragging him back from the pleasant memories.
... back up here a sec, Mrs.? He stared blankly at the other teacher, wondering if he had misheard. She was still glaring at him accusingly. He was suddenly glad that she hadn't brought her chopping knife along for the excursion.
"Not for much longer," the curvy woman intoned with a sly grin, apparently unaware or unconcerned about the effects of the revelation on the others. "Sheila's fine, by the way." Rude just nodded once before resuming his usual stance, though he cast a curious glance at Reno's suddenly confused expression and the wheelchair woman's murderous one.
Isla cleared her throat discreetly and continued with the introductions, still not quite able to keep herself from glaring. "And... I believe you know Reno." This time even Sheila seemed to notice the strange tone, and looked down at Isla, mouth open in surprise and unvoiced question.
Suddenly realising and embarrassed by her actions, Isla looked down at the list in her hand, studying it with an intensity that the contents did not warrant. There was an awkward silence as everyone tried to figure out what was going on.
At last, Reno broke the silence, if not the tenseness. "Been a while, Sheila."
While his voice still sounded casual, Rude saw the tightness in his friend's jaw. He could tell that the other Turk was trying to restrain himself, though Rude still wasn't sure what this was all about. This woman seemed to know the red head as well, and the other one didn't sound happy about it. He might have put it down to jealousy if Reno hadn't looked pissed as well. Rude scratched his forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
Confusion had faded to anger and it took all of Reno's self-control not to grab his EMR and shove it up Sheila's lying throat. He crossed his arms to keep his hands safely away.
He hated being used, being made a fool of; having someone pull his strings like he was a damed puppet. I'm not Strife, he thought savagely. Reno had always prided himself on being smart as well as strong - not necessarily book smart, but intelligent in all the ways that really counted. He always knew what was going on around him and how to use that knowledge to stay on top. Nobody pulls a fast one on me. Sure he acted like a clown sometimes, but that was completely different. He could be serious when need be, and anyone who really knew him was aware of it. Fucking nobody. He should have seen it... somehow. There must have been signs. He didn't know why she had lied, but he didn't care. She -
"I'll go check on the kids. Excuse me." Nobody else said anything as Isla abruptly departed to round up the class. Reno continued glaring at something only he could see, Sheila looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Rude... just looked like Rude.
"Well," Sheila started at last. The sultry tone had left her voice, and she adopted a more business like manner after clearing her throat once. Reno noticed that she was distinctly avoiding his gaze now. "We'd better start the tour I guess. Would one of you boys follow me? Don't think we can all fit in one lift." Her heels clacked on the tiles as she briskly headed towards the elevators without waiting for a response.
Rude glanced over at his partner, then stepped forward wordlessly. Only someone who'd known him as well and as long as his fellow Turks could have seen the silent sigh that he released before falling into step behind Sheila. "Meet you at the Visitors Center."
Reno let out a sigh of his own as he raked his fingers through his hair with a nod, and then stalked over to Isla and her half of the class. He knew he should have stayed in bed today.
Sheila had been right about one thing - there was no way that all of them could fit in one elevator car. Even half the class, fifteen kids, plus their two chaperones could barely squeeze into one. Reno watched as the doors closed on a very uncomfortable looking Rude, squashed on all sides by school children, and about to be trapped in a small, confined space with Sheila. It offered him a small degree of amusement to observe that the powerfully built Turk seemed rather unnerved by the woman who barely reached his shoulder.
Reno waited for the next lift, in only slightly more comfort. Isla was obviously trying to ignore him, but being intent on being a good teacher, was attempting to do so in as polite a way as possible. The only time she really addressed him was to request that he refrain from swearing in front of the children, when one of them had asked him a question that had elicited a typical Renoesque response. He briefly considered swearing even more, just to get her to react and to let him vent some of the irritation he was feeling for the world in general, but decided it wasn't worth it. He didn't put it past her to lodge a formal complaint about him, and he really didn't need a pay dock this month, what with the cost of the repairs for his car. Stupid punks, he thought, at whoever it had been that had slashed his tires and scratched up the paint. If he ever found out who they were, he'd give them a scratching up to remember.
Thomas the Bulldog was standing between his teacher and the Turk-come-tour guide, shooting Reno suspicious glares every few seconds. It would have been funny if the latter hadn't been in such a sour mood. Since he was, it just added to his general grouchiness. The other kids were annoying too. That kid from earlier - Jonah, Johnny or whatever - kept asking him questions that he was in no mood to answer politely but was obligated to, and he was sure that there was someone who kept staring at him and occasionally tugging on his hair from behind, but they all looked innocently back at him whenever he whirled around. Oh yes, he hated Reeve with a deep, burning passion that Ifrit had nothing on.
The lift arrived at long bloody last, just before Reno decided it was time to go up to the guards' room and shoot someone if they didn't get the lift down to the lobby pronto. They started to pile into the steel and glass capsule.
It soon became obvious that Isla wouldn't be able to fit; after some debate, many assurances that on Thomas' part that he would get all of the children and himself to the correct floor safely, and flat out refusals on Reno's part to be stuck in the lift alone with the little monsters, it was decided that the kids would go up first and the two adults would follow in the next available lift.
With the children gone, they waited in stony silence for the next one to arrive. A minute crept by. Reno cursed and leaned over to punch the "Up" button a few more times.
"That's not going to make it come any faster."
"So you can speak, " he feigned surprise. "Thought your mouth had frozen shut."
"I had nothing worth saying," she replied crisply in a tone of voice that could only be called icy.
Heh, fitting. Issy. Icy. Reno smirked to himself at the private joke.
"What's so funny?"
"What, is it against the law to smile now?"
The glared at each other until the doors in front of them finally opened. Reno gave an exaggerated bow and swept an arm towards the open doors. "Ladies first." She moved past him without a word or further look. He followed after her stiff form. Inside, he glanced at her as he pressed the button to take them to the twentieth floor; she was studiously staring out of the glass at the scenery of rebuilt Midgar. He didn't know why, it was depressing more than anything else to him. Reeve had done a good job with the reconstruction efforts, he had to give the man that, but the scars on the city were still there in plain view. The elevator started to rise.
Then it suddenly lurched to a stop.
Isla turned sharply, seeing Reno retract his hand from the Emergency Stop button. A frown settled on her face. "What are you doing?"
"Clearing the air." He leaned against the mirrored doors and looked at her. "Now, normally I wouldn't care what you think about me or if you want to be the queen of PMS, but since I'm going to be stuck with you for the rest of the day, I'd rather get this out and over with." The issues with Sheila, he pushed aside for now; he'd deal with those later.
She crossed her arms and settled back in her seat. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your body obviously disagrees," he remarked, crossing his own arms to mirror her position. "Fifty-five percent of all communication is through body language - didn't you learn that in teacher school?"
Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Then she looked away, her frown deepening. "I have nothing to say to you."
"Fine." If she wanted to play that game, he could too. He flopped down onto the floor of the lift, his back to the panel of buttons - placing himself between her and the large red Stop button, she soon realised. He read it in her expression, and smirked. "You want out of here, you're going to have to talk." In truth, he was almost hoping that she would refuse. He didn't feel quite ready to deal with all those kids and that friend of hers right yet; not unless they wanted a bloodbath.
Isla glared at him, and leaned forward towards the panel. He caught her wrist and gently but firmly pushed her back. "No cheating, Miss Branwen."
She extracted her hand and settled back, muttering under her breath. "Jerk."
"See? You do have something to say." He found himself grinning at her murderous look. When she refused to continue or do anything but stare straight ahead after a full minute had passed, he sighed. "Look, since you're going to be so uncooperative and we do need to get out of here eventually, I'll make this easy for you. You're upset I slept with your buddy Sheila." Hell, so am I.
"No. You were both consenting adults, why should I care who either of you sleeps with?"
You're a lousy liar, you know that? He tapped the bridge of his nose. "Fifty-five percent physiology, thirty-eight percent tonality. That makes you eight percent a liar."
"Seven percent," Isla blurted out automatically, before cringing mentally.
Reno raised an eyebrow, his speech curtailed before he'd even begun. "Eh?"
"Fifty-five and thirty-eight makes ninety-three, not ninety-two. Therefore, assuming that I was telling an untruth, that would make me seven percent a liar." She scratched at her arm awkwardly. "I teach Maths and Music."
The man blinked. "Oh, right. Anyway, that's beside the point," he said with a cough, trying to recover his momentum. "The point, Isla Branwen, is that you're lying about not being upset."
"No I'm not." She held up a hand to halt the interruption. "Wait, let me finish. I don't care who you and Sheila sleep with. What does bother me is that neither of you seems to care about the other people who would and have every right to care about your relationship -"
"Such as Mr. Hanslow."
"Yes." She looked down at her hands, before continuing quietly. "And Maya. They have a daughter. She just turned two last month." Isla raised her eyes to look at Reno hardly. She was surprised, then confused by the disbelieving look he shot her before turning to stare moodily ahead.
"Well see, here's the kicker - I didn't know that. Or that she was married." There was a trace of bitterness beneath the deceptively light tone.
Isla stared at him. "What? But... you must have." She frowned. "You're lying."
"Why should I? She wasn't wearing a ring, and when I asked if she had anyone waiting at home, she said no. Now don't know about you, but to me that sounds like she's saying she's single."
She looked down at her hands, thinking it over. It was true that Sheila didn't wear a wedding ring - she'd lost it a couple of years ago, and hadn't gotten around to buying a replacement before she and her husband had started having problems, and she decided that a replacement wouldn't be necessary. Not the ring, at least. But Sheila wouldn't have cheated on Martin, would she? After a while, as much as she loathed to even think it, Isla finally admitted to herself that yes, she would have. Not because Sheila was unfaithful by nature, but because her husband - "My Marty", in happier times, "That Effin Bastard" now - had been unfaithful to her first; and Sheila had always been a great believer in the Golden Rule. Isla remembered how devastated her friend had been when she had discovered he'd been having an affair. She hadn't wanted to believe it; it had, ironically, been Isla who had forced her to admit the truth. Then when disbelief gave way to grief and finally to the thirst for revenge, it seemed that she had tried to hurt him the same way he had wounded her.
Isla sighed. She hadn't agreed then and still didn't agree now with what Sheila had wanted to and had apparently done; but she could understand it. Still, she hadn't expected her friend to deceive the men she used to exact her revenge with. Isla knew that, unfortunately or fortunately, there were some who wouldn't have cared that Sheila was still a married woman and a mother. She just hadn't suspected that Reno wouldn't be one of them.
Twisting her fingers as her mind continued to turn, she looked up at the Turk. He was staring sullenly at the wall, seemingly lost in thoughts of his own. "I... I don't know what to say..."
"It may come as a surprise to you, Issy, but I don't fuck everything that moves, you know," he drawled, not turning to look at her.
Her face reddened. "I didn't say -"
"You were thinking it," he cut in flatly. This time he did look at her, and Isla found that she couldn't meet the accusing aqua gaze. She hadn't seen him angry before today, and it was not a reassuring sight. She suddenly felt very small. "You think just because I'm a Turk that I don't give a shit about anything else? Here's a newsflash for you, Miss Branwen, I do. And I don't sleep with married women, and I most certainly don't appreciate being fucked around with like that." The bitter intensity in his voice surprised her into glancing up. Seeing his face, she quickly looked away.
"I'm sorry..."
The expression on her face only served to fuel his anger. "Save it," he bit out shortly. He didn't want her pity or remorse or whatever the fuck she was offering. Too little, too late, sweetheart. He smiled grimly at nothing in particular. Ain't life a bitch.
A part of his brain told him that he shouldn't be this angry at her - it wasn't her fault that her friend had used him like some cheap whore - but he couldn't bring himself to care. He wondered suddenly what her daughter looked like.
An image of his mother, chose that moment to surface; she was sitting silently on the bed, face as pale as the letter half-crushed in her hand. It was a short love note addressed to her husband, but not from her hand.
She eventually learned forgave his father for the affair, but he never had.
Stupid fuck. He wasn't sure who he was referring to, Fate, Sheila or himself. Maybe all of the above. Hell, the whole damn Planet's full of fucking idiots... Damnit, I need a smoke.
Reno dug savagely into his pocket for his battered pack of cigarettes, shaky fingers grabbing at one and forcing it between his lips while his other hand pulled out his lighter and ignited the stick. There was something calming about watching the small flame waver and sway before him. Click. On. Click. Off. If only everything in life was that simple. His lungs drew a deep breath, taking in the dirty, poisonous smoke, and felt marginally better after that. Not nearly enough though. He glared up at the ceiling. If looks could kill, Sheila would have dropped dead and fallen twenty floors through the hole his eyes were trying to burn from the elevator. It was then that he noticed, and remembered, that there were smoke detectors in the lifts. The one in this car was starting to blink.
"Fuck." He did not want an impromptu shower on top of all this crap life had shovelled onto him today. In one fluid motion, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun.
A single shot rang out.
On the floors above and below the one where the elevator was suspended in limbo, people screamed and ducked the bullet that never came for them, and looked about frantically for the mystery gunman.
Up in the Visitors' Center, Sheila had been glancing at her watch and wondering what was taking the other two so long when the shot sounded. It was far enough away to be slightly muffled, but it was still clear enough for there to be no mistake about what it was. Everyone fell silent. Rude glanced at the teacher, then at the lifts a few meters away. "It came from the elevator shaft." He didn't have to say what "it" was point out which one he meant.
The colour drained from her face. "Oh Holy, Isla!"
Rude immediately called security. He didn't for a moment think that Reno had shot the woman, but he didn't really think it necessary to tell Sheila, having by now guessed what had happened earlier. What affected one of Them affected all of Them. He turned away from the pale-faced woman. Let her stew for a bit.
Reno took another drag on his cigarette, ignoring the horrified look on the face of the other occupant of the lift. He was glad she was silent; at least he could enjoy his smoke in peace.
Fate was gracious enough to spare him two minutes before the intercom crackled to life near his ear, causing him to jump sideways and then swear loudly as he hit the side of his head on the metal banister.
"Hello?" The voice crackled.
"The fuck do you want?" he growled, rubbing his head. At least there was no blood. He still felt like shooting the intercom though. Static crackled as the person paused before responding. Reno glared at the communication device. He bet the crackling was its way of laughing at him. It was mocking him. The whole damn world was probably laughing at him. He chose to ignore the fact that the only other person he could actually see at the moment, and the person on the other end of the intercom, were not laughing, as that would have undermined the drama of the statement, and he was in a dramatic mood damn it.
"Um, sir, is everything alright? We just got a call reporting a gunshot was heard -"
"It was my gun."
"Er, right." John the security guard wondered if the Turk could hear the sweat forming on his brow. They had incredibly attuned senses, someone had told him. Sniff in a crowded room, and they can tell it was you, even without looking! John's eyes darted nervously back from the intercom panel to the security monitor showing the interior of the elevator. The man in the blue suit didn't sound pleased, and the guard had no wish to be the target of an angry Turk with a gun, literally or otherwise. He swallowed. "Is... Is anyone hurt, sir?"
"You've got a camera in the lift don't you? Does anyone look hurt?"
He looked again, just to be sure. The picture was a bit fuzzy, but distinct enough for him to make out the two forms in it. There was a young woman in a wheelchair, and the Turk seated on the floor, just at there had been a few seconds ago when he'd last looked. No blood, no one groaning in agony. "No..."
Reno leaned back against the wall and lit another cigarette. "Well, there you go."
"Um... I noticed that the lift stopped moving, sir. Why... Is... Do you... uh..."
"I wanted a smoke."
John blinked. "In the lift? ... sir."
"Oh no, up your ass. Of course in the lift. Holy." Reno rolled his eyes at the young guard. How the hell did a dumb kid like that get a job here? Reeve's really let Shin-Ra's quality control standards drop.
"Uh, but the fire detector, sir..."
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Well, won't it go off, sir?"
"Not since I shot it."
A long moment of silence. "Right. Sir."
"And you're not going to mention that to anyone," he stated calmly.
Sweat pooled beneath the guard's collar at the hinted threat. "Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir! Er, whatever you say, sir!"
"Good boy. Now turn this thing off and go back to that porn mag you were looking at before."
Hazel eyes widened, flitting from the magazine he's hastily dropped near by to the intercom. How did he know! The boy's eyes glazed over with awe. "Right away, Mr. Reno, sir! Have a good day, sir!"
The Turk rolled his eyes again after the click indicating the intercom had been turned off. "Wanker." He took a deep drag on his cigarette and tapped the stub against the door. They probably wouldn't care about the ash and butts, what with the small hole in the elevator ceiling he had left. A wavy circle of smoke drifted up towards it like a gauzy halo.
Reno glanced at Isla after a few moments, noticing that she had been silently staring at him or somewhere past him all this time. She looked a little bit pale and a whole lot afraid.
He wondered idly if she had worn an expression like that the night he had drunkenly climbed in through her window. Most of his anger had faded by now, and he was left feeling vaguely guilty for scaring her like that. Reno kicked at the wall, turning his gaze away. Stop it, he growled at her mentally. Not being equipped with thought-sensing skills, she continued to look at him like a terrified kitten being dangled over a well. At last he spoke gruffly. "I'm not going to shoot you, so you can stop looking at me like that." To his relief, she blinked and looked away, as if waking suddenly from a trance.
She'd probably never even seen a gun fired before in real life, he realised after a while. Sometimes he forgot that not everyone was exposed to the things that he was and had been. Her reaction reminded him of just how far apart their worlds were, even though they returned to the same building every night. His gaze settled on a poster on the opposite wall, with the Shin-Ra logo emblazoned across it.
Shin-Ra, Sephiroth, AVALANCHE, Sector 7, Meteor, Geostigma, Bahamut, Kadaj's gang - all were no more than distant names and images in newspapers, if at all that, to her, while he... he still bore scars from almost all of them, and probably would until the end of his days. She was, he suddenly realised, one of the only people he knew who had no association whatsoever to any of those entities.
It was a strange thought, but oddly comforting. He glanced at the handbag sitting in her lap. The building's security scan had revealed that it contained nothing more dangerous than a can of mace, a pen and a small bunch of keys. That spoke volumes about the kinds of threats she expected to face in her day to day existence. He contrasted that against his own 'accessories'. EMR, gun, materia equipped bolt bracelet, pocketknife, Turk training... heh.
While he could certainly remember a time when he hadn't walked around armed, he couldn't imagine going back to that. Like it or not, he would always be subconsciously looking out for potential threats and escape routes where ever he went, always on guard. Not her though. No, she had nothing to worry about, as long as she didn't venture into unsafe territories. He lifted his gaze from the bag to her face, still so pale. A small part of him envied that she could still be shocked by the sight of a fired gun. There was a world out there untouched by the horrors that had filled his entire adult life. Even if it was beyond his reach. But maybe... maybe he could get a glimpse of it once in a while.
He exhaled inaudibly and continued speaking as though they had still been conversing normally. "So anyway, where was I? Right. Turks do have morals. We just don't let them interfere with the job. I don't shoot people for the hell of it."
There was a long pause, and he thought she wasn't going to say anything. Maybe she didn't believe him. Why would someone like her believe the words of a Turk anyway? He probably didn't deserve her trust, after everything he'd done in the past. Yes, it was wisest not to trust someone like him. He was bad news. All Turks were. Who ever sent them to deliver good news, after all? Normally the message was, "You messed up, now you have to die", "You tried to screw Shin-Ra over, now you have to die" or "You're a threat, now you have to die." Shin-Ra wasn't very original with its greetings he mused. I mean, if you're going to take someone's life away, the least you could do was come up with a personalised sending-off line, you know?
"Only smoke detectors?"
Reno blinked at the unexpected interruption to his thoughts and glanced sideways; her face was still a bit more colourless than usual, but she regarded him with a wry half-smile. That's a start. He was almost starting to get worried that he'd stunned her into silence for life. She had quite a pleasant singing voice, he'd discovered one evening as he passed her window. Figures she's teaching music. She'd stopped singing when she saw him though and refused when he'd tried getting her to continue. Maybe he'd resume his attempt another day. For now though, he'd settle for a sentence or two. Anger he could deal with; silence he could not.
He grinned and responded lightly, deciding to follow her lead. "Hey, it was pissing me off, glaring down at me with its beady little eye like that."
Isla shook her head and sighed, the smile widening just a fraction more. Score.
Blue blazered shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, though he covertly kept an eye on her reflection in the doors. "They're probably used to it by now. I bet they have a 'Reno's damage of company property' item in the budget." He looked over at her more directly and could see that beneath the fledgling smile, she was still trying hard to get over the shock and pretend that she was in fact thoroughly used to men whipping out guns and shooting offending ceiling fixtures as and when they pleased. She wasn't succeeding that well, but he supposed the effort was worth something.
At least the apprehension was gone from her eyes. Far too trusting to ever make it as a Turk. Even if it was his own thought, he wasn't sure if he thought of it as a compliment or an insult, or which she would have considered it.
"You must be a horror to work with."
"So I've been told, Miss Branwen," the troublemaker grinned incorrigibly. He was slightly pleased to hear her laugh. "But they haven't fired me yet, so I must have some use to them. Now, let's not keep your little friends waiting any longer, shall we?"
At her nod, the sputtering cigarette butt was dropped and stomped on before its owner rose to his feet and pressed the red button behind him. The lift gave a slight lurch and continued its climb.
Isla was barely aware of the scenery outside that had seemed to captivate her earlier, as the lift sped upwards. Part of her mind was still recoiling in horror at the casual way the red-haired Turk had drawn the gun and shot out the smoke detector, hitting it dead on without even looking; but she reminded herself that it was just his training. She tried not to think about what other things his training may have entailed, and what its purpose was. He was a man, no more and no less.
She still wondered why her accusation had bothered him so much, however. He was probably used to people giving him dirty looks and untrusting glares by now - it came with the suit. Surely she was not the first; she knew she would not be the last. A twinge of sadness greeted the thought. But he should know not to take it personally, that others would see him through the filter of rumours and whispered accounts, no matter how complete or true they were or weren't. It wasn't entirely her fault that she had assumed the worst of him... was it?
Her conscience reared up then; she remembered her own experiences with strangers: the looks, the remarks - not always concealed, the occasional hostility. It must be even worse for him. Guilt and shame washed over her. Just because you grow to expect it, that doesn't mean it hurts any less, the little voice reminded her, how quickly you forget. What was that you like to say about people judging you on appearances? It cuts both ways, you know.
And how the blade stung, too. Holy, didn't she feel like a hypocrite now.
She sank down a little in her chair, too lost in her remorse-filled thoughts to be aware of the amused blue-green eyes watching her reflection in the mirrored doors. When she did finally notice them, her face reddened and her lips parted. But whatever she might have said was delayed 'til a later time, for the lift chose to chime, and the doors began to part for their arrival.
Anyone who read through all of that rambling at one go deserves an award XD; And if anybody's wondering, i actually haen't decided what or who Rude's plans entail... Suggestions, comments (about the chapter or anything else)?