Rude isn't surprised when I enter his office, giving me a nod before returning to his paperwork. I set up shop at a corner of his desk as best as I can one handed and get to work, taking my cues from him. No need to address why I'm here, he never asks.
After a few hours, Rude reaches behind himself to open the window, a small knowing smile on his lips as I begin to fidget and finger the cigarettes in my pocket. "Weird noises comin' from your office, Red." He's looking at me, sunglasses folded and hanging from the collar of his shirt. His tie is wrapped around the hand that reaches for a cigarette and the lighter once I've lit up.
With a roll of my eyes, I prop my legs up on his windowsill, getting comfortable. "I don't wanna talk about it, man. It's dumb as shit."
His feet join mine on the sill and we both sit and people watch for a bit, smoking in a companionable silence that we have rarely been able to enjoy over the past few months. For whatever reason, he and Elena have been sent off more and more often, dragging Lee with them most times, and leaving me and the others to our separate business. Not that I don't mind the time I spend with Tseng or Avery, they're both enjoyable to be around in their own ways, but time with Rude is different. I don't have to try with Rude, ever. He's always got space for me, even when he doesn't have time. His new couch folds out in case I want to crash at his place. I've got a toothbrush in his medicine cabinet. There's a ceramic mug with a chip in it that's specifically mine in his cupboards. I wish I could, but I can't say I treat him as well as he treats me.
"How's the arm?" Rude breaks the silence, tapping my foot with his.
"Attached." There's some woman on the sidewalk across the street talking to a WRO soldier and I watch them for a bit, wondering what their relationship is.
"Hurtin'?"
"I'm ignorin' it." Maybe they're breaking up? Who the hell knows. I can't really see them, but their stances seem as though they're two people used to touching who suddenly can't. It's weird to watch.
Rude turns, taking his feet from the sill and my attention from the window. He rummages through his desk for a bit before bringing himself back to the window, flicking his cigarette out as he passes me a small bottle of pills. I raise an eyebrow, rolling the bottle in my hands. "I saved what was left the last time I got hurt. What Tseng don't know won't kill him, right?"
"Rude, I shouldn't-"
"I trust you not to make an ass out of yourself, Reno." The stern look I get stops my protest. "You're smarter now."
I nod, glad that he's confident in me, even if I'm terrified of myself. Pain killers and me used to have a far too intimate relationship. I was a junkie as a teen, not on medications, on worse things, but when something numbs the mind, clears everything out and leaves a pleasant numbness that permeates everything, I find it hard to resist. Alcohol I can handle, pills I cannot. I proved that time and again in my younger years. "You're gettin' soft on me, Rude."
Snorting, he turns away from the window and I hear his fingers tapping keys again.
We both know he's been soft for years, at least when it comes to me.