Chapter 8
Senna's fists were still clenched when she opened her eyes. An extremely frustrated sound, much like a growl, left her throat before she finally sighed and relaxed enough to turn over. She stared at the light shining from between her curtains and wondered, not for the first time, why the hell she had dreams about Rufus Shinra. This last one was the perfect example of why it made zero sense. Despite being teased for it, he really had become a lawyer to help people.
Then there was Rufus Shinra. Thinking a man is attractive is one thing, but his personality did tend to put her off as often as it turned her on. She could admit that the way he held himself and his confidence were both positive factors, but what kind of psychopath is ok with children getting killed? The whole thing aggravated her, and that didn't even count the other kind of aggravation.
She was desperately clinging to her irritation because she could already tell that if she started thinking about the last minutes of her dream, things would landslide off the deep end. Damnit, why did he have to be such a good kisser? Well, for a figment of her imagination anyway.
That thinking led to other, less than sane questions. Like, how did her mind produce something as fine and experienced as that man, because she sure as hell had never been kissed that thoroughly before. That was something that she would have remembered. It was a depressing thought that it only happened in her dreams.
Maybe Natasha was right. Would a hook-up be that bad? There was a little voice in her head that mocked the thought. Not because she held any qualms about casual sex, she wasn't a virgin or anything, but because she was now spoiled by a dream. That thought had her circled back to the aggravation again.
Sitting there in bed wasn't helping, so she got up with a gusty sigh and headed toward the shower. Maybe it was time to give in and just tell Natasha to hook her up. Her friend had tried several times, and every time Senna had given a reason not to. That would have to change if she had any hope of retaining her sanity.
Rufus knew he was awake, but he hadn't moved—not even to open his eyes. He was still lying there trying to figure out if he was more pleased or aggravated. His irritation was a strong presence, especially since he could still taste Senna on his lips—spicy and sweet at the same time. It suited her—or would if she were real. That thought did not help his frustration.
However, if he focused past the last part of the dream, he wasn't entirely displeased. That had been the first dream with the strange woman to include something he was consciously familiar with. Not the meeting, of course, since that hadn't been scheduled. However, the fact that she talked about Avalanche, his plans to kill his father, and the potential meeting did make him wonder if his subconscious finally realized that he needed a clearer picture. He already assumed there could be a double-cross—Avalanche was known for their violence, which made the idea of a subconscious reminder that caution would need to be primary seem much more likely.
The thought that his hypothesis was likely correct worked to soothe the last of his irritation. Instead of focusing on what had been stolen from his fingertips—again—he sat up to get ready for the day. After the switch that he found in his father's office the day before, and the dream's reminder that the meeting with Avalanche would likely happen soon, he didn't have time to spare for frivolities.
For the moment, he would put thoughts of his dream aside and focus on work. It wasn't like the image of the woman's grey eyes darkened with lust, or her kiss-swollen lips could not be thought about after everything else was done. Besides, what was the point of dwelling on a figment of his own imagination?
Senna had surprised Natasha when she had been the one to suggest they go out after work. Not that the shorter woman hadn't jumped on the chance as soon as the shock wore off. To make it worse, Natasha had actually squealed like a little girl when Senna asked her to bring someone she might like to spend time with.
For a moment after that scene, Senna worried that the woman had the wrong idea, but the mischievous twinkle she caught sight of in Natasha's eyes quickly disabused her of that notion. She almost worried that she had made the wrong choice when her friend's smile began to match her eyes, but by that time, it was too late.
Senna was less than pleased when they got to the little hole-in-the-wall pub after work, and Natasha made her sit at the table and wait. For a brief moment, Senna considered leaving, but before she could make up her mind and grab her purse, Natasha had returned with a tall brunette male in tow.
Senna stood before they got to the table and noticed he had a hand towel over his shoulder, but that observation was quick to pass when his blue eyes twinkled, and he held out a hand. She nearly melted on the spot when his thick accent washed over her. "Well, bless me peepers, the woman was'na lyin'. And what might yer name be, me lovely lass?"
Senna took his offered hand with a smile as she said, "Senna Rhodes. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting tonight?"
The man's laughter was almost as potent as the whiskey and coke she had ordered when they arrived. She had a feeling that if any man could get her mind off her troubles, this one was near the top of the list. The feeling only got stronger when he said, "No need for that kind of talk, lass. Me name's Samuel Kinnett, but pay no heed to how English it sounds. The name lies."
Senna couldn't hold back her laughter as she said, "Well then, Mr. Kennett, will you be joining us for dinner?"
Samuel put a hand over his heart and gave her a wounded look that she could tell was totally faked. However, before either of them could say more, Natasha stepped in with a grin. "I'm so glad to see you two hitting it off." She then turned to Senna and answered her question. "Sam agreed to join us in a little bit. He owns the bar but had to cover for a call-in. Until he's done, I'm sure we can enjoy this fine establishment."
Senna lifted one brow at the man that was currently giving Natasha a sour look for her reminder. "The owner?"
When Sam turned back to Senna, he gave her an apologetic smile. "Aye, me troubles call, but ye have me word that I'll be back before two batts of those pretty lashes."
Senna laughed again and felt her worries slip away under Sam's blatant flirting. It was just what she needed after the last week of nothing but strange dreams and crazy workdays. She flashed him a grin as she said, "Well then, I'll try not to blink too much."
He seemed to be just as pleased with her attempts to flirt if the angle of his grin was anything to go by. Although he had to go directly after when an older woman with a similar accent called him loud enough to make some of the patrons chuckle as he made his way into the back.
Once he was gone, Senna gave Natasha a curious look as she asked, "How in the world did you meet him. And before you answer, please plead the fifth if he is an ex of yours. I don't want to know that."
Natasha was barely sitting still, and her excitement spilled over into her voice. "I am so glad the two of you seem to be hitting it off. Oh, and he was my brother's college roommate, so no, not an ex. Although I did think about it at one point."
Senna held up a hand and shook her head. "That's enough."
Natasha laughed playfully but didn't bother with a retort. After that, the two of them got into an inane conversation—everything they could think of that didn't have to do with work or her weird dreams. Not that they had to talk alone for long. It might have been thirty minutes before Sam came and joined them.
Much to Senna's relief, he was easy to talk to and even easier to flirt with. Mainly because he was usually the one to start, and she couldn't help but rise to the challenge. She barely even noticed when Natasha snuck out and left the two of them alone. She had such a good time that it didn't even bother her that Sam offered to take her home.
She still wasn't decided on whether she should give in to her thoughts from that morning, as every time she thought about actually following through, she felt like she was doing something wrong. It irritated her because there was no way she could cheat on a dream, but in the end, it meant that she agreed to go for a walk with Sam to sober up a little more before she decided. Although by that time, she was pretty sure she was going home alone.
It was late afternoon, and Rufus was back in his own office going over battle reports and supply lines, all of which could be potentially useful information. He was making notes as he went but paused when there was a knock on the door. Had anyone not been watching him directly, they would have missed him pushing the notebook into a nearby drawer as he called out, "Enter."
He cocked a brow in interest when it was Tseng that came in. Before he was given a chance to ask anything, the Turk gave him a shallow bow as he said, "We have received word that your potential allies would like to meet."
That information instantly had Rufus's attention. He refused to ask anything out loud, as he didn't trust that his office didn't have extra ears. Thankfully, Tseng was trained well enough to know that too. Instead, the Turk held out a slip of paper as he said, "The news that your father is pulling back troops to gather near the shore while they recoup was well received by many and has prompted many offers of help to come forward. I have been told the Turks may even assist with recruitment in the near future."
Rufus knew Tseng's words were a smokescreen of sorts, but they were not useless. He nodded as he read the scrawling script. 'They are pleased with the information and would like to schedule a meeting in three weeks at Corel. The new reactor there will be finished, and most of the staff will have gone by then.'
It took every ounce of Rufus's control not to show how unsettled he was when he read the location. He had never believed in coincidence, which suddenly made the situation much more dangerous. Thankfully, he was able to gather his wits enough to answer. "If that is to be the case, then I wish you luck."
Tseng briefly looked confused when Rufus pocketed the note without further instructions, but he didn't ask. Instead, he bowed once more and showed himself out when the young Shinra waved a dismissive hand. As for Rufus, he was already mentally making a list of questions he would have for his 'imaginary friend' once night fell. For the first time since they started, he hoped the awkward dreams would not change.
Rufus vaguely knew that he had gone to sleep, but it didn't quite feel like he was all the way out. It also didn't feel like the strange dreams he had been having. Most of those had started out like any other dream and only turned into lifelike imitations once that woman showed up. The frigid blackness he was walking through was something else entirely.
As he looked around, he noticed that the darkness was fading until a brightly lit city street seemed to slam into being all around him. The first thing he noticed was the sheer number of people walking around. Some were laughing, others seemed to be huddled by broken lights or street corners, and others looked like they were just trying to get somewhere. There were so many of them that he was nearly run over by a man rushing out of a nearby alley. However, there was never any contact. The man seemed to pass straight through Rufus.
The sensation had been peculiar but not painful. It didn't take much investigation for Rufus to realize no one saw or heard him. It reminded him uncomfortably of his most recent dreams, but he pushed the thoughts aside. For the moment, he was trying to figure out where he was because it certainly wasn't Midgar—even if the city around him looked like it might rival the capital.
A smile graced his lips as he looked up to the starless sky that was still bright as daylight due to the neon around him. Perhaps this was his mind showing him what Neo-Midgar could look like under his rule. He didn't particularly care if the people were happy, but he was smart enough to understand that happy people spent money, and spending was everywhere around him.
He had just turned to inspect some of the shops nearby when he was brought up by a familiar sound behind him. He turned slowly to see Senna laughing less than a hundred yards away. Not the Senna he had gotten to know, with her hair down in disheveled curls and wearing satin pajamas. No, this Senna had part of her hair pulled back into a neat bun that barely showed the strain of the day, and her face glowed under the city lights with tasteful accents from obvious cosmetics. The pencil skirt and blouse she wore fit perfectly and showed her femininity to perfection without being crude. Her heels clicked against the pavement in a staccato beat until she stumbled.
The rest of the city sounds seemed to fade away as he watched her. Despite her apparent lack of sobriety, she never hit the ground. She was caught by a tall brunette man that held her just a little close as they smiled at each other. Rufus couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, but he didn't need to.
His feet had already started to propel him toward the couple with a frown on his face. However, he had not made it far when something else caught his eye. A patch of darkness that could only be described as a void in the world had slunk from a darkened doorway close to Senna and the man that had finally let her go. Rufus watched with growing unease as he tried to figure out what was going on.
He barely heard Senna's frustrated chuckle and the clink of something falling to the ground as his gaze was fixed on the thing behind her. He was already trying to close the distance, but he didn't seem to be getting closer. Finally, he caught a flash of silver and a green cat-like eye as a pair of hands emerged from the black hole.
The following events happened so fast that he barely caught them. The hands pushed Senna, and she fell into the street. She didn't yet know the danger she was in. She looked around in confusion just as Rufus caught sight of an evil smirk. He immediately knew that something was very, very wrong.
His gaze turned back to see Senna standing in slow motion and the man that had been with her stepping closer to try and help her back to the sidewalk. However, Rufus saw that the man would not be in time. A light had just turned green down the street, and a large vehicle with forks on the back was headed straight for her. He had no idea why—what good it would do, but Rufus called out her name.
For the briefest of moments, Senna actually turned toward him. Her eyes widened in recognition and perhaps curiosity, but before Rufus could take another step, the truck slammed into Senna. Rufus had never experienced something like that. The world around him was suddenly red as he tried to breathe. Nothing came out—no sound, no words, for a second that felt like an eternity, nothing even made sense. It was almost a blessing when cold blackness descended to swallow him whole.
Rufus woke with a gasping breath. He flung the sheets aside and stumbled into the nearby bathroom. He didn't even bother turning on the light before he started splashing cold water on his face. After a few moments, he had finally gotten his brain to function and derided himself for the panicked actions.
It had just been a dream—a very vivid and life-like dream, but a dream nonetheless. He had to keep telling himself that, even as he looked down at his bedclothes and halfway expected to see them covered in blood spatter. Just the thought had him ripping them off with an illogical sense of revulsion.
Part of his mind was appalled by his display of useless emotion. He was only grateful that no one else was around to witness the disgrace. Still, no matter how much he tried to convince himself to let it go, the image of Senna just before she was—he couldn't even finish that thought.
Why did he care? Even if he had witnessed the event in the streets of Midgar, he would not have been phased by the death of a stranger, so why was he bothered by the death of a figment of his imagination. None of it made sense. Especially not when he thought about the void that had carried a familiar smirk. One that he wasn't sure belonged to his dreams, or someone a little closer.
Not that he planned to dwell on it. He had a nightmare, and he could damn well get over it like he had every other obstacle in his life. With that thought, he managed to get himself under control as he dressed. He didn't bother with a shower, but he did grab a few extra magazines as he headed toward the firing range. There was nothing like perfecting the art of killing to settle his nerves.
A/N: Well, if any of you were getting tired of the dreams, I hope this was something new. 😅 On a serious note, this does mark a turning point in the story, and I hope you are all excited for what is still to come, because trust me, there is a lot. In the meantime, please let me know what you think of this snafu. Thanks for reading and cheers!