Back. :D There's a LOT of talking in this chapter, I'm afraid - dealing with the aftermath of Nibelheim and what Shinra has to say about it. Many thanks to Pretty Arbitrary for her beta-ing skills, and I'll probably be back a bit sooner with the next chapter as I'm not distracted with making AMVs at the same time...

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Misconduct

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"You're kidding."

"You know better than that."

"I do, but you're still kidding." Zack looked up, frowning as Tseng strode away down the corridor. He had to run to catch up, which wasn't doing his headache any favours. "Right? C'mon--"

The look Tseng gave him was equal parts exasperation and amusement. "I didn't have anything to do with it, Zack. You're asking the wrong person."

Zack scowled, turning his attention back to the newspaper half-scrunched in his hands. The morning edition, and he wouldn't have bothered looking at it at all if the reception girls on the ground floor hadn't waved him over with such bright smiles on their faces.

The sight of his own cheerful face splashed across the front page would have made him dance through the halls and probably terrorise every cadet and high-ranking SOLDIER in sight, had it happened much earlier. Now, it just filled him with a sense of alarm. The photo was the stock one from his personnel file and was out of date – he'd cut his hair since then.

--and his further rise to the rank of 1st Class was made in record time. His selfless actions to protect our citizens from the recent attacks combined with his charisma and boyish good looks make Fair one of the most popular faces in Midgar—

"Snow job," Zack muttered, reading further down the page. Then he blinked. "This can't be right."

Tseng sighed, pausing by the next door. "What?"

Abruptly he folded the paper in half and tucked it under one arm. "My photo," Zack grinned. "It's too old. Do I look that young and gullible to you?"

"No comment. They'll take another one. Probably more."

"You're kidding," he said again.

Tseng shrugged. "Learn to live with it, Zack."

"I think I can manage," he said innocently. "I mean, I've had years to get used to my boyish good looks."

Tseng responded by arching an eyebrow and turning his back, swiping his card through the electronic lock. The door slid open. "Come on."

Zack hesitated. "Tseng?"

"Yes?"

"You know what this paper says."

"Yes."

He swallowed, running a hand through his hair. "Is there even any point to this meeting?"

Tseng caught his gaze. "You know better than that, too."

True. He followed Tseng through the doorway and into the plush carpeted reception area for the executive offices. Another thing out of place; they'd bypassed the two SOLDIER floors entirely, which had struck Zack as odd – chain of command meant he should be reporting straight to the Director. But then Lazard was probably still missing, come to think of it…

Zack sighed. Maybe there was nobody for him to report to. It wasn't as if there were a lot of people qualified to take over the role. He was pretty sure Shinra had been grooming Seph for the role before…

Well, before.

Tseng led him to the polished oak doors of the corporate meeting room, then turned to give him a wary look. "Are you ready?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not? Might as well get it over with. Although," he added with a faint smile as he caught the troubled look in the Turk's eyes, "I'm still not sure how much help I can be. You know. Memory and all."

Tseng snorted, but he offered Zack a nod that was almost friendly as he pushed the doors open.

The board room lights were bright enough to make him wince under the sudden onslaught. He caught sight of several people seated at the end of the long table before he had to glance away, blinking the sudden spots away from his eyes. Ow.

"Tseng, dim the lights a little." The voice was warm and concerned, and set alarm bells ringing despite the apparent sincerity; he knew that voice. "I'm sorry, Zack. Tseng's report did say you were injured, but I should have realised you were still recovering. How's your head?"

Zack stood at attention and snapped a formal salute. A fairly impressive one, he decided wryly, given he was squinting against the darkening lights and the newspaper was still stuffed under his arm. He should've dumped the damn thing at reception. "It's fine, sir."

The room came back into focus again, and Zack nearly cursed, standing straighter than ever. Behind him, the doors clicked shut and he heard the soft scuff of Tseng's shoes as he moved, taking up a position somewhere he couldn't see. Playing the inscrutable Turk, he guessed.

"The light is still irritating, I see." Facing him at the head of the long table, the President of the Shinra Electric Company favoured him with a benevolent smile that set his teeth on edge. "We'll try not to keep you long."

We consisted of two others at the table; Zack recognised Heidegger, at least, though he had no clue why he was there. The big man was glaring at him over his beard with a hostility that he found strangely reassuring. It seemed a lot more honest, at any rate. The other man with the unruly mop of grey hair was a total stranger to him, but Zack could guess which department he came from. The lab coat and the calculating expression in the man's dark eyes as he stared at Zack were a dead giveaway.

He hadn't been expecting to report to the President. Zack took a breath. Tseng, I am so going to kill you. Best behaviour, best behaviour… "Thank you, sir."

The President waved a hand. "At ease. I can see you've seen the paper today."

"Yes, sir."

"What did you think?"

Zack blinked. "Come again? Uh, sir?"

Angeal would have had kittens by now.

The President's lips twitched. "The article. What did you think of it?"

"Which part, sir?" he asked dryly before he could stop himself. Oops. And then: Hell with it. He wasn't built for this kind of stuff. "The part about my charisma or the part where it says I'm the hero of Nibelheim?"

Behind him, Tseng's breath stuttered, barely heard on the edge of Zack's keen senses. He resisted the urge to offer the Turk a nasty grin and instead kept his gaze on the President's face, watching as the man's smile grew wider.

"Very good, Zack," he said softly. "I appreciate your frankness. You're aware, of course, that the article is for the purposes of publicity only."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." President Shinra leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. "I'll hear your report now."

Zack straightened again, all formality. "General Sephiroth and I were assigned to investigate reports of a malfunctioning reactor and the appearance of—"

"Yes, yes." The President waved him off. "I'm not interested in hearing why you went to Nibelheim. You can submit those particulars in writing."

What a shock. Zack kept his face blank, suddenly very conscious of Tseng's gaze trying to burn a hole between his shoulder blades. The Turk was clearly nervous, which he wasn't sure he understood. Tseng had nothing to worry about here, did he? "Where do you want me to start?"

"Sephiroth," was the cool response. "Tell me why my best SOLDIER is dead, Lieutenant Fair."

Zack nearly flinched, both at the blunt demand and the sudden icy look in the President's eyes. It occurred to him, now, why President Shinra of all people was hearing this report. Stupidly obvious, really, and it made his stomach turn to think about it.

Seph had discussed the President with him, once; that the man tended to think of him as a glorified bodyguard and was liable to threaten the great General Sephiroth as an ultimatum to any and every problem he faced, no matter how small. Zack had suggested quite cheerfully that he buy the man a nice, stuffed Sephy doll to cuddle up to at night to make him feel secure. (I am not a doll, Sephiroth had said flatly. But he had smiled afterward, so Zack considered that a win.)

President Shinra wasn't going to give a damn about the fact that Nibelheim had burned down or that people had lost their lives … and he sure as hell wasn't going to want to hear the truth from Zack.

Shit. What do I say? He took a breath. Tseng had given him an out. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't answer that question."

The President's eyebrows lifted in disbelief. "Nonsense. You were there. You were Sephiroth's second. Surely you must have witnessed events."

"I witnessed quite a few things," Zack retorted. "Sir. But I don't know how things ended. I was injured in the line of duty. I – uh …" He paused, then gave a carefully helpless shrug. "I have some vague memories of the reactor, but not much. All I can tell you is what I remember, sir."

The man in the lab coat glanced up at him curiously, then nodded. His voice was unexpectedly soft. "Amnesia is a hallmark of concussion, Mr President - anterograde and retrograde. I understand the injury was quite severe. Lieutenant Fair could be suffering from either or both."

The President frowned slightly, but then relaxed. "My apologies, Zack. Tell us what you can, then. Anything that you think could help."

And now we're back to pretending we're best friends. But Zack only smiled as gratefully as he could. "Thank you, sir."

"Start from your return to Nibelheim."

Zack froze. Start from— "Sir?"

The President gave him a pleasant smile. "What happened once you returned to the village after your inspection?"

They know. They had to; someone had been watching, or a villager had survived and been questioned – and that meant he was on very thin ice. Depending on what they knew – if the Turks had conducted a full investigation, then they could already have the whole story, with the possible exception of just why Seph had gone mad. But that couldn't be the case, could it? Tseng had already told him they'd arrived on the scene too late to … to do anything except peel Zack off the ground and take him home. He closed his eyes on that memory, forcing his fingers to unclench.

Don't go there.

Probably, it was just a survivor, telling a survivor's point of view. But if that were the case, Shinra would already know that Sephiroth had been the one that destroyed Nibelheim. Then why ask? To confirm the story, maybe.

No, that wasn't it. Tseng had taken great pains to warn him off the whole truth.

Remember Banora, Zack.

This wasn't about Nibelheim. It wasn't even about Sephiroth, and it definitely wasn't about dutifully reporting in after a mission that had gone wrong. This was about Zack. And what he knew, or didn't know, and whether what he knew was too much. Because Shinra was far too attached to its secrets and its science projects, and he had the strong feeling that that thing in the reactor – and Seph's reaction to it - was a project on a lethal kind of need-to-know basis.

All evidence of misconduct must be erased.

Fuck.

"Zack?" The concern was back in the President's voice. "Are you all right?"

And here he was proving how clever he was by standing in a board room with his eyes shut. Zack blinked and dredged up a watery smile. "Sorry, sir. I guess I'm not quite as healthy as I thought."

On the other hand, my picture is in the paper today. Now, why is that?

"Feel free to sit down if you need to," the man invited.

"I'll be fine," he said easily. "Once we returned to Nibelheim, I was put on standby. Sephiroth told me he wanted to spend some time at the old Shinra Manor."

"Why is that?"

"I'm not sure, sir. He mentioned something about research." Chew on that, you old windbag.

The President frowned again. "You didn't know what he was doing?"

"No, sir. He insisted on total privacy."

"And you gave it to him?"

Zack gave him a crooked grin. "When Sephiroth wants privacy, you give it to him. I'm not going to tell him what he can or can't do. He's my superior officer, sir."

The President chuckled. "True, true. Do you have any idea at all what he might have been researching?"

Plenty.

"None, sir. With respect, I just assumed he'd been ordered to retrieve some information while he was in Nibelheim."

"I see." The President was smiling more genuinely, now. Right answer. "What did you do during that time?"

"Patrolled the outskirts of the village and kept it clear of monsters. Uh … maintained good relations with the townsfolk and ensured they had no further problems. Fixed a roof."

Had dinner with Cloud and his mother. Nice lady. She made him turn red almost as much as I did.

Don't go there, Zack.

"Then about a week later," he continued after a moment, voice steady, "I woke up and found the town was burning. I didn't see who was responsible or how it was started." Which was perfectly honest; Sephiroth had left long before Zack had arrived on the scene. "Cadet Strife and I searched for survivors. One reported seeing Sephiroth heading for the reactor, so I followed."

All true, in a vague sort of way. The President watched him thoughtfully. The scientist, Zack noticed, was no longer staring at him but rather jotting down careful notes on the memo pad in front of him. Heidegger was still totally silent, arms folded and scowling, which was kind of odd – from all Zack had heard of the guy, he expected a lot more obnoxious posturing than this.

That was probably a bad sign, really.

"Why?"

"I'm his second," Zack said flatly. "I assumed he had a good reason for going there, so I went to support him. Strife stayed behind to assist the townspeople."

The President nodded impatiently, urging him on with a flick of his hand. Cloud's role wasn't important. Nor, Zack realised with sudden weariness, would any of the men here give a damn about the other infantryman they'd lost on the mountain. He shook his head and worked up a rueful smile from somewhere. "After that, I'm not so clear, sir. I went in. I was obviously attacked."

"You can't remember more than that?"

Zack met the President's gaze. "Nothing that makes any sense. Flashes, mainly."

The other man frowned. "I see. That's a shame." He studied Zack for a moment, then leaned forward, supporting his fleshy chin on his hands. "What about Genesis?"

That, he wasn't expecting. He blinked. "Genesis?"

"Yes. The First you failed to kill in Modeoheim," the President said smoothly. "I understand he was seen in the area?"

…Tseng, you total bastard.

No villager would have known that. The Turks had been watching all along. Zack clamped down on the anger and the sense of betrayal (they're Turks, it's what they do, Tseng is no exception) and instead gave a short nod.

"Yes, sir. He was there. He attacked us at the reactor while we were inspecting it." At least he didn't have to try protecting Genesis; he wasn't really inclined to, either. After all, it was possible that it was the redhead's little speech that tipped Seph over the edge in the first place.

"Interesting," the President murmured, smiling again. "Unprovoked?"

Zack snorted. "He asked Sephiroth for help. Sephiroth turned him down."

"Help with what?"

"Not entirely sure, sir," he replied levelly. "I think I was cordially disinvited from the conversation. Genesis packs a mean Fire."

"He attacked you specifically, then."

"Yes, sir. He also attacked our people outside." Tifa. He hadn't even thought about her until now. He remembered thinking it might have been fun to tell her just who she'd helped drag back to Nibelheim - much later, when Cloud was either over his shyness or somewhere out of striking distance – and he shifted on his feet as he realised she was probably dead, too. You're the only survivor.

Of course, Tseng had been the one to tell him that.

"You say he used Fire?"

"Yes, sir."

The smile grew wider. "And the town of Nibelheim was burned to the ground, correct?"

He blinked. That was a big jump. "Uh—"

"Did Genesis show any hostility towards the townsfolk of Nibelheim?"

Zack stared at the President incredulously. "Wait, you're pinning this on Genesis?"

"Is there any reason we shouldn't suspect him, Lieutenant Fair?" the President countered, voice mild. "He's attacked Shinra several times in the past. If Sephiroth turned him away, it's not a far stretch to believe he would attempt to hinder your mission."

Not protecting Genesis was one thing; framing him was something else. "With all due respect, sir," he said, "I really don't think Genesis would have destroyed an entire town out of spite."

The President practically grinned. "You're too naive, Zack. He's done it once before."

He opened his mouth to protest that, and then shut it. Even he knew that slinging accusations about the way Banora had been dealt with was suicidal, given who he was talking to. And Genesis had killed the villagers – all the people he'd grown up with. He couldn't deny that.

Just like Sephiroth.

He wasn't going to leave that alone either, no matter what Tseng said.

"The possibility will be investigated further." President Shinra straightened, looking pleased. "Is there anything else that you can tell us that could be of assistance?"

"Not that I recall, sir."

"Thank you, Zack. You understand that everything you've heard in this room is classified?"

"Of course, sir."

The President hesitated, then smiled at him. "I understand you were on good terms with General Sephiroth."

"Yes, sir."

"And you were also close with one of the infantrymen that accompanied you."

Zack flinched. "Yeah," he snapped. Then he sucked in a breath, staring down at his feet. "Yes. Sir."

"It's all right, Zack." The President offered him an understanding look. "I know how hard this must be for you."

He managed a small grin at that. "It's been easier, sir."

"Shinra appreciates the excellent work you've done for us in the past," the President continued. "I'd like to show our appreciation."

"My picture in the paper?" he asked wryly.

"We'll discuss that more later. It serves more than one purpose, I'm sure you understand."

He did, actually. It surprised him on some level just how cynical he'd become about the way Shinra operated. "Perfectly, sir."

"Things are a little disorganised right now, Zack," the President continued, finally standing up, and Zack fought back a sigh of relief. They were done. "As you're aware, SOLDIER is currently lacking a Director. We'll keep you updated on the changes we make. For now, I'm placing you on indefinite leave." As Zack stiffened, he held up a hand. "This isn't a punishment - you've been through a lot. However, I'd like you to stay in Midgar for the duration I trust you have ways to keep yourself occupied?"

Stay in Midgar? He wasn't in the clear after all, then. But leave was leave, Midgar at least had Aerith … and Zack wasn't in any hurry to return to work. He saluted. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. You can go."

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The board room was silent for a few moments after Zack had left, giving Tseng a hooded look that put him on notice; the First was not happy with him. Not that surprising, he knew. The only sound was the faint scratch of the pen as the scientist - Tseng vaguely recognised him as one of Hojo's underlings – finished his notes.

Then Heidegger snorted and pushed himself away from the desk, scowling across at the man with an air of impatience. "Well?"

"You know I can't make a judgment without a more thorough examination," the scientist murmured, still writing. "You can order him in for counselling rather plausibly given he had friends amongst the deceased. The reports can be monitored closely from there."

President Shinra looked thoughtful. "Put aside your official opinion for now, Dr Emil. What's your impression of Fair?"

Emil closed the notebook delicately and placed it on the table again before looking up. "It's possible, even probable, that Fair has damaged recall," he said. "But as to whether it's damaged to the extent he claims, it's unlikely. He doesn't display enough confusion, and some of his responses to you were rather evasive. This implies knowledge that he's trying to hide from you."

Translation: Zack made for a poor liar. Tseng suppressed a wince and waited for the inevitable as the President made a disappointed sound.

"That's a shame. We could have used him."

"You may still be able to," Emil said unexpectedly, his eyes meeting Tseng's for just a moment. Tseng blinked. The scientist smiled slightly as he turned back to the President. "Mr President, Fair's case file shows an unswerving loyalty to Shinra thus far, no questions asked. There could be any number of reasons he wishes to say nothing, and many of them would not hinder the company. It's why I recommend the counselling; you can ascertain Fair's motives and recollection in a more unguarded atmosphere."

"What do you mean, not hinder the company?" Heidegger demanded. "He's lying to us, isn't he?"

"It depends on what he's lying about, if at all," Emil said, tapping his notebook. "We're unsure of the full events at the reactor, but it is clear that General Sephiroth is the man behind the burning of Nibelheim. The two of them were friends. Perhaps Fair merely wishes to protect the General's reputation."

That was entirely plausible, Tseng realised with a start. A reason that was very much in keeping with Zack's character, and one that could be built on to save his life. Why the scientist was going out of his way to protect Zack, he was unsure; he had enough mistrust of the whole of the Science Department to suspect that Emil had ulterior motives, especially given who his direct superior was.

Nevertheless, Emil's reasoning had brought the thoughtful look back to the President's face, and the man smiled almost fondly. "He's very young. Tseng?"

The Turk straightened. "Yes, sir."

"Fair is back here with us on your recommendation, is that not so?"

Heidegger glanced up at him in surprise. Tseng pretended not to notice. "Yes, sir."

"I understand your reasoning on his value quite well," the President said. "And you are an astute man. You would not have had him returned to Shinra if you believed he was a threat to the company."

He understood the implied question, and gave a short nod. "Commander Hewley."

"Hewley?" Heidegger was looking irritated, now. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Fair was trained by Hewley," Tseng said evenly. "They were very close. When Hewley deserted, it was Fair who finally killed him."

"I understand he refused to go after him when the mission came up," the President said, folding his hands.

"He did, sir," Tseng replied. "As did Sephiroth, for much the same reason. They were too close to the target. However, the mission at Modeoheim pitted them against each other. Presented with no other choice, Fair chose his loyalty to Shinra over Hewley."

He was sure that loyalty had very little to do with Zack's motivations in that particular fight, actually – not after seeing Zack's face as he'd left the bathhouse – but there had only been two witnesses to the aftermath of Angeal's death, and Tseng knew without doubt that neither of them would tell a soul. His thoughts drifted to Nibelheim at that – to the blond cadet – and he pressed on hurriedly, attempting to ignore the flash of distaste at the memory of Hojo and his laughter.

"Fair refused to discuss the incident more than he had to, but he certainly performed his duty in this regard," he said. "There is precedent for the possibility that Dr Emil has raised."

The President nodded in approval. "If that is the case, we can certainly still use him. At the very least, he can play out his role as the media's darling while we ascertain for ourselves if Fair will be a problem. You will, of course, be watching him closely during this time."

"Of course."

"What do you think, Heidegger?"

Heidegger was still scowling. Tseng suppressed a sigh, knowing what the man was going to say next. "I don't see what's so important about Fair. If he's a threat, why not deal with him now? You should've just left him in—"

"You've been through the personnel records of SOLDIER this week," the President interrupted him.

"Yes, but—"

"How many active Firsts do we still have?"

Heidegger wasn't the most perceptive of people, but he wasn't stupid. He narrowed his eyes. "Five. Six, including Fair."

"A promotion to First Class has always been reserved for the best," Tseng said, keeping his voice neutral as the scowl was turned on him. "Most never make it past Second. Those who do make First are the representative face of SOLDIER."

Heidegger snorted. "Fair only made First to shut him up."

"You really think so?" Tseng said, voice sharper than he intended. "With due respect, Hewley recommended Fair for First on his own merits. It had nothing to do with Hewley's subsequent defection or any question of Fair's loyalty."

"That's true." The President smiled. "Whatever else you could say about Lazard, our previous Director wouldn't promote a boy of Fair's age to First Class without believing he was ready for it."

Tseng wondered if he was imagining the bitterness in the man's voice, and then decided it was none of his business right now. Zack was; he still wasn't in the clear, not if Heidegger couldn't be convinced to use him. Instead, he changed tack. "Sir, are you aware that some of our more prominent Firsts have a following among the public?"

Surprisingly, Heidegger let out a bark of laughter. "Of course I am! My niece is part of the Rhapsodos one, whatever it's called—"

"Red Leather," Emil said absently, scratching away in his notebook.

Tseng blinked at that. "The most popular SOLDIER, from the program's very inception, has been Sephiroth," he said. "Public Relations worked hard to make him so, as I'm sure you're aware. Hewley and Rhapsodos were also quite popular in their own right."

Heidegger's brow furrowed. "So?"

Tseng took a breath. "Sephiroth is dead. Hewley is dead. Genesis … has deserted. These events make the public uneasy."

"Our three most popular and reputedly unbeatable SOLDIERS all gone in quick succession," the President murmured. "The public look up to SOLDIER. Children every year left their homes to come to Midgar, wanting to be just like their great idol Sephiroth." He sighed. "His loss is going to be very damaging to Shinra's image."

Finally, Heidegger looked like he understood. "You're going to use Fair."

"Reassurance is very important to our citizens," the President said. "Fair was already making a name for himself before he left for Nibelheim, particularly in the aftermath of the attacks on Shinra. He doesn't have the same draw as Sephiroth, but he doesn't need to. In light of the recent deaths, it's more important that the public have someone they can relate to."

"Provided you can trust him," Heidegger said sourly.

"That remains to be seen," the President agreed. "But I believe we have time to ascertain that. In the meantime, publicity has already been set in motion in regards to Nibelheim. He's already been painted a hero. From his profile, I daresay Fair will be more than happy to enjoy the publicity. Being in Midgar with nothing to do for some time will no doubt give him opportunities to shine."

---------

The President's decision was thus: that Zack would be officially on leave for a minimum period of two months, during which he would be required to report for weekly meetings with a company counsellor. Tseng walked out of the board room with a directive for the Turks to monitor the First closely until further notice and report back on anything out of the ordinary.

All in all, it was a better result than the one he'd feared. Shinra's desire for good press had been his only real card to play, and despite the President's indulgent attitude, the man was far more intelligent than most people gave him credit for. But he was also willing to take a chance. If Zack was smart enough, he could bask in the spotlight, ride out the investigation, and return back to a normal life.

Better than the alternative.

He stepped out of the elevator onto the dimly lit floor of the Turks' official headquarters … and stopped. It shouldn't have surprised him, he knew. Zack's expression as he left the meeting should have given him all the warning he needed. But this was Turk territory, and to find Zack Fair leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed—

"You shouldn't be here," he said evenly.

"Why not?" Zack's voice was innocent. His eyes were a fierce blue. "It's not like I need a card to get to this floor."

Tseng rubbed at his eyes. "You know what I mean, Zack. You're not stupid. To come from a meeting like that—"

"You're right," Zack interrupted him. "I'm not stupid."

"Zack—"

"Don't." Zack pushed himself away from the wall to stand in front of Tseng with a tight smile. "I'm not interested in hearing it, Tseng. You're a Turk. I get it."

"Then you should go home." He winced at how flat his voice sounded. Zack deserved more than this from him; the hurt in the First's expression was plain to see. "I'm sorry," he added more gently, and turned to leave.

Zack's hand shot out, seizing him roughly by the shoulder. Tseng froze at the contact. Gloved fingers clenched tightly in the fabric of his jacket for a moment, then eased their grip enough that he could have pulled free. Instead, he held himself still, staring stonily down the corridor as Zack looked away from him, shoulders shaking.

He was laughing. "That's four times you've apologised, Tseng. I gotta wonder what you think you're actually apologising for."

Tseng closed his eyes.

"I just want to know one thing," Zack said softly. "You told me … you said … it was too late by the time you got there."

"…Yes."

"Which is a lie, isn't it?"

Did you even try? Hollow words from the night before. Tseng swallowed. "No."

"You were there all along."

"No."

The fingers tightened enough to hurt. "You could have—"

"No, Zack." Tseng's voice was as gentle as he could manage.

"But you were—"

"In the area," he finished. "I know. But we weren't anywhere we could have made a difference. I promise you that."

The fingers loosened, then slid away from his shoulder altogether. Tseng moved away on reflex, straightening his jacket as he glanced back. The First was stalking toward the elevators. "Zack—"

"Forget it," Zack said coolly, stabbing at the elevator button. "I believe you. Just …don't apologise to me any more."

Tseng watched him go, wondering if there was anything he could say that would have made any difference - which was ridiculous. Zack had every right to be angry with him, and logically it was far better for Zack's sake to keep his distance. So he kept his silence as the elevator doors closed once more, leaving him alone in the hallway.

I'm sorry, Zack. There really was nothing I could do.

He turned on his heel and headed for his office, and wondered wearily why it felt like he was lying to himself.

---------

According to the official canon, once Lazard is removed as Director of SOLDIER, Heidegger is the one that takes up that responsibility. Hence his presence in the boardroom, and I was laughing a bit because when I started this chapter I didn't really forsee spending time writing Tseng and President Shinra and Heidegger bicking at each other... (See, this is why the place goes downhill, I swear.)

More soon. I haven't forgotten poor Cloud. ;)