I woke to the most splitting headache in the entire world, cursing everything in sight, mumbling death threats to the rays of sunlight passing through the shades in my little bedroom at Healin. It was a typical morning, you'd say.
I stood, remembering the night before at Seventh Heaven—something about challenging Valentine's drinking prowess. I guess that was my first mistake, eh? I went to stretch, and grabbed my clothes. As I threw them on, I felt a nagging pain in my wrists, which probably went unnoticed because of the fuckin' hangover. I pulled up the sleeves of my jacket, seeing rough, red burn marks.
"Rope burns?" I mumbled questioningly, cocking an eyebrow. I shrugged and opened the bedroom door, going on the search for some sort of painkiller and a hell of a lot of coffee. As soon as I took two steps, I felt like someone had kicked me in the ass. "No..." I moaned. 'I didn't let him—oh man. How much did I drink?' I thought, shuffling painfully towards the kitchen. Rufus sat conveniently at the table, reading through some papers. He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. I poured my coffee and sat across from him, wincing as I sat down.
"I see you had a little too much fun last night?" He said nonchalantly, sipping his coffee and shuffling the papers in front of him.
"Nngh…" I mumbled something, anything to make him stop talking.
"You know, I never thought you to be the submissive one…but I suppose the rope marks and the limping say something entirely different." His trademark smirk passed over his lips. I tried to piece together a coherent sentence to defend myself.
"Not my fault…fuckin' Valentine is immune to alcohol…and Strife…took advantage…goddamn kinky drunken sex…can't believe I let him—ugh." I finished, done with talking. I was just a goddamn running joke to Rufus. Words hurt my head, and I was contemplating getting some ice to sit on.
"Well, I hope you can still fly the helicopter like that," Rufus smirked, gloating at his chance to annoy me. "I need to go on an…errand." He picked up the papers, the smirk still plastered on his face. "Fifteen minutes long enough, Reno?" He said as he walked back to his room, more ordering than requesting.
"Always have to have the last word, don'cha boss?" I mumbled, forgetting Rufus's inconveniently superb hearing. Definitely not good to have a boss that always hears you talk back to him.
"Yes, Reno. Always." He turned, never loosing that amused look. "Especially when you've just woken up with a hangover after being screwed up the ass by our favorite 'hero'." He shrugged, the smirk coming dangerously close to a smile, "Merely protocol, hmm?" He chuckled, leaving me red-faced. I cursed Strife and his goddamn antics.
'He's getting payback tonight.' I thought, grinning as I thought up creative ways to 'punish' Strife. 'Oh, this is gonna be fun.'
a/n: wow, another long one...it seems Rufus plus comedy equals long drabble! I just can't get enough of Rufus--he's that perfect smirky/snarky character. Reno is such an easy target, and Rufus can't deny his urge to have the one-up on him. I guess I put the smirky Rufus in private situations with the Turks, since I don't see him being entirely cold and calculating all the time. Calculating, maybe, but cold, no. I can see him as a bit of a troublemaker at a young age, and that carries through in his older years.
I'm a writing machine...I would have kept these two, but I suppose EvanNJames pulled them out of me...now I have to go think of more chapters...hmmm...time to ponder.
Review? It would make me uber happy and you'd get more chapters out of it! Suggestions are welcome too!