I narrow my eyes at his tactless attempt to rush me, and then inform him blandly, "I am staying the night."
He momentarily covers his face with his hand and groans in frustration. "No, you are not, and this argument is becoming far too circular. We're getting nowhere. While your persistence is… flattering, you will have to accept my decision on this."
"One of the reasons you wanted me here in Edge is to try to divert the attention of your enemies from yourself, correct?" I ask rhetorically, already certain of the answer.
"…Yes, that is one of the reasons," he responds slowly with suspicion heavy in his gaze as he regards me closely.
"If the attacks are personal in nature, would I not be made into a greater target if people were led to believe that we are lovers?"
His tone is scandalized when he answers curtly, "No, absolutely not! I'm not willing to do that. I'm uncomfortable with how much danger I am placing you in as it is, Tseng."
"Right, and going out to dinner and then undressing me with your eyes in public wouldn't have already given interested parties that impression."
"That was a mistake, a moment of weakness on my part, and I sincerely apologize for it, but we can still reassert the appearance of professionalism between ourselves."
"I think it was intentional, all of it, but now you're backtracking because of a guilty conscience."
"If you really have such a low opinion of me, if you genuinely believe I am capable of…" He trails off, and then questions incredulously, "Why are you even willing to help me?"
"Your death would destabilize the planet."
"Ah, of course, ever the sensible Turk," he says with a hint of resentment, turning the compliment into an insult.
"A sensible Turk that will be devoting his skills to keeping you alive, so showing some gratitude wouldn't be out of line, Commissioner," I chide.
Apropos of nothing, he suddenly inquires, "How sure are you that I am here in the flesh right now?"
My spine stiffens in shock at the possibility, my posture becoming even more rigid as I start to mentally shift through the details of our interactions, before I relax and offer him a cynical half-smile. "Very sure."
"Why is that?"
"I doubt you would waste time programming your doubles to kiss that effectively and…" A disturbing thought crops up in my mind and I allow faint revulsion to show in my expression. "Are you insinuating that your Reeve-alikes are anatomically correct?"
His eyes widen comically and then he erupts into laughter, a smooth tenor of unfettered joy that is becoming increasingly more pleasing to my ears and my lips curve up against my will, any attempt at projecting stern disapproval failing spectacularly at the sound.
And sight. He is good-looking, but when he laughs… I'm in trouble here.
"I don't design and tell." He wipes away moisture at the corners of his eyes, chuckles a few times, and then aims a sly grin in my direction. "I'm afraid you'll have to molest one to find out."
"You want me to molest your creations?"
He shrugs and remarks carelessly, "I have given half a thought to the construction of models for the adult entertainment industry." Following a short pause, he adds on as an afterthought, "Naturally."
"'Naturally'? There is nothing natural about making robots solely to be used in such a disgusting manner," I insist heatedly.
Raising an eyebrow in amusement, he asserts, "You are remarkably prudish about some things. The result of a strict Wutainese upbringing, I suspect." I frown at the presumption, but make no attempt to dispute it. "Do you think the use of sex toys is also disgusting?"
"No, but what you create…" I cast my gaze over the sparse decorations of the room almost sightlessly, seeking a way to rationally explain why I find the prospect morally reprehensible, and my focus finally drifts onto a miniature figurine of Cait Sith, tiny megaphone lifted up to its mouth. "They think, they adapt, they choose, they learn, and for all intents and purposes, they seem to feel. It would be wrong, Reeve," I implore. He regards me fondly, almost tenderly, as I speak, which causes my hackles to rise further and I scowl at him when I am finished.
"You truly are a wealth of contradictions. I didn't think you would care."
"I thought we established that you don't know me."
With an absent nod of his head, he professes, "I hope I have the luxury of getting to know you well. The more I see, the more I like."
"Yes, that you like me is very important," I mutter laconically and then stare hard at him for a moment. "Now that I am aware that you've considered making sentient sex toys to be abused by the masses, is this the real you?"
A low noise of humor escapes him, before he replies, "I came to the same conclusion as you, and I wouldn't actually do it." He gestures at himself with mock grandeur and winks. "This is the real me, in the flesh."
I sigh. "I can't tell when you are lying."
"Which is fortunate for me. If you are preoccupied with trying to determine my reality, I should have an easier time of resisting your advances. Unless you've changed your mind again and are going to stop?"
The hope in his glance is obvious and I take pleasure in crushing it with a brusque, "No."
"So be it," he responds ambivalently.
"Elaborate on your supposed fear of me."
"I really shouldn't need to."
"Humor me."
He reclines on the sofa and stretches his arms out to either side to rest along the back, crosses his legs at the ankles, and then sets to studying me thoroughly. "I believe we share a trait, you and I, where we would much rather risk our lives than our hearts."
"That is ridicu-"
Talking over my protest, he interrupts, "If you are captured, I will be blackmailed."
"If I'm not killed outright," I agree readily. "And? That is a certainty, regardless of whether we are involved with each other or not."
"And it would hurt so much more to turn down the demands for your safety if I let myself love you," he says in a frank, matter-of-fact tone that temporarily stuns me into silence.
When I recover my voice, I reproach him sharply with, "That is absurd. I'm offering you sex, not love. Why would you even bring up…?" I break off and shake my head adamantly in denial.
"I'm not saying it would be a problem for you, but I've never been able to keep arrangements of that type… casual. It's a failing on my part, not yours, and you must understand now why I have to maintain my distance from you."
As he talks, his countenance is filled with a beseeching, earnest light while my own darkens until I am glowering at him openly in fierce displeasure as I tell him, "You're slipping up, Commissioner."
"What?"
"You just accused me, minutes ago, of lacking control over my emotions, and now you are claiming that it's the other way around?"
"And you just assured me that I was mistaken," he retorts immediately. "You are a man of your word, are you not?"
I choose to ignore his allusion about my character this time, and then muse aloud, "If there's any truth to that…"
"I knew you would understand," he comments with tangible relief.
"I understand, but your assuming that I would care if I broke your heart is a mistake."
Is it?
"Tseng!" he cries, visibly dismayed and agitated. "I don't believe for a moment that you would care about the rights and wellbeing of robotic entities but not about hurting me like that!"
"Believe what you will. You, yourself, said that I'm full of contradictions."
"Yes, but…"
"Provided I am not executed immediately, I will be tortured, and that is not something I enjoy, so I will be taking every measure possible to avoid being captured in the first place." His glance flickers down over my chest, and I find myself wondering if he is imagining the scarring there, if Valentine had told him about the extent of the injuries I suffered at the hands of the three remnants in the Northern Crater. Memories best left in the past begin to press at my consciousness, and I drag my mind back to the present. "Let's not forget it's more likely an attempt on your life will be successful."
"Yes, let's not forget that. Your ability to comfort is unparalleled."
"I know," I murmur seriously and incline my head imperiously, provoking a quiet laugh from him.
"So that is your stance? That I might very well be dead tomorrow and should seize the night, fall into your arms, so to speak, my delicate emotions be damned?"
"And you deserve it."
"Deserve it? You are offering your body up as what, a reward of some sort? How noble and self-sacrificing you are," he utters with thick scorn. "No thank you."
I successfully fight the urge to roll my eyes before answering, "I wasn't referring to my body. I meant that you deserve to experience pleasure, as much as anyone does, but you seem set on punishing or denying yourself that. I would appreciate it if you stopped interpreting everything I say in the worst possible manner."
"Interpreting everything in the worst way doesn't just annoy you, but has the added benefit of getting you to actually explain what you mean. You are often cryptic, you know."
"I'm cryptic?" I snap dubiously. "Do you even listen to yourself talk, Tuesti?"
"I've never claimed I wasn't, and it's not like it's something that's mutually exclusive in people."
There is an obvious, challenging glint in his eyes, but any desire I have to meet it ebbs unexpectedly as fatigue from this constant battle of wills settles rapidly within me. "Where is your guest room?"
"Uh…"
"You do have a guest room?"
"Technically, I have a room that is supposed to be for guests, but I turned it into a workshop shortly after I moved in."
"Of course you did." I mutter an oath under my breath and critically eye the furniture I am sitting on, noting with distaste that it is not long enough to accommodate my height. "The couch will be fine."
"No, you can use my bed."
"I am not sleeping in your bed unless you join me."
He gives a startled chuckle and then directs a reproachful glare at me that is not in the least bit convincing. "Tempting, but I have a cot in the workshop. I'll sleep there."
"This is your home and you will sleep in your own bed. I'll take the cot."
"You are my guest and shouldn't have to be uncomfortable just because I'm not set up to host anyone. I insist that you take the bed."
"And I refuse. You are my superior and my elder, even if it's only by a couple years."
"You are pulling my rank and seniority to order me about?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make any sense!" He is openly struggling not to laugh and I feel the strong impulse to do the same.
"It doesn't need to make sense. Off to bed with you, now," I demand.
"No! You will go to bed like a good little boy."
I grimace and shudder faintly. "Don't… call me that."
"Oh?" A playfully devilish gleam shades his features as he rises to his feet and then strolls over to stand before me. The mannerism is eerily reminiscent of Reno and I know I am not going to like whatever he says next. "How about 'cheeky, depraved boy', then? No, that doesn't have the right ring to it. Perhaps 'wicked little boy'? Hmm, I know… I should take you over my knee for your insolence, you naughty, sinful boy."
He looks ridiculously proud of himself when I merely stare up at him, aghast with horror, in response. I clear my throat as his expression begins to change into concern and I manage to verbalize with difficulty. "Your… 'dirty talk' leaves much to be desired. I think I just felt my ability to get an erection die."
His bright gale of mirth is predictable, but less affecting than normal, as I had spoken with complete honesty, and I wait it out numbly. At last, he declares, "My work here is done, and you will sleep in my bed without me, something I'm sure you are grateful for now. It's the last door at the end of the hallway. Goodnight!"
And he walks away while I watch with a confusion that is swiftly transforming into anger.
His declaration of victory is premature.
(A/N: Their voices still feel off, and that's really not a good thing, given how much I've written. Always viewed them as having a similar vocabulary, even phrasing, but differing in delivery and tone, with Tseng being much more direct and concise with his wording, of course. Something's just not right, though. RAWR!)
