Current chronology: After Hours, Negotiations, Call of Duty, Blackmail, Qualifications, Exposed, Clean, Demand, Rimfire, Officer Down, Recovery, Contact. Chapters not posted here can be found on LJ (more info in my profile).
Happy New Year, everybody!
Disclaimer: dood, fanfiction. Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, and the characters and universes therein are the property of Disney and Square Enix. I receive no remuneration for this work; it is a parody and as such utilizes the Fair Use clause of the Copyright Act.
Call of Duty: After Hours
It's not uncommon to see fellow officers at this bar after shift; he's with a few of them now, as it is. The place is within walking distance of the station and is pretty decent as far as bars go. There's a jukebox on the north wall that doesn't spew out absolute crap, and it's clean and not all that rowdy, though that's probably due to the high ratio of off duty police to civilian clientele.
But it is uncommon to see Sergeant Squall Leonhart here.
From his seat across the room, Cloud watches his (very attractive) CO swirl what's left of the rich amber-colored liquid in the rocks glass in his hand. The firm line of the other man's mouth pulls into a small, tense frown, and then down goes the rest of his drink, glass landing back on the polished bar top with a dull thunk that Cloud imagines he's somehow able to hear over the low roar of the crowd.
On impulse, Cloud excuses himself from the table he's at, sparing a moment to glare darkly at Almasy when the taller blond makes an off-color joke at his expense (the man is arrogant and blunt on the best of days, and he's ten times worse when he's drunk; Cloud's glad he's got his two buddies with him to drag his insufferable ass safely home afterwards), and he makes his way towards the bar, unfinished beer in his hand. If Leonhart's presence is for the reason he thinks it might be, the guy could probably use some company, even if he doesn't want to talk about it. Which he probably won't, but that's understandable, and Cloud won't push him. He knows from prior experience that just having someone there...well, it does make a difference sometimes.
By the time he reaches the bar, he's pushed his annoyance at Almasy completely out of his mind, leaving behind only curiosity and concern and, of course, the carefully concealed traces of desire for his commanding officer that he's tried to damp down time and time again, to no avail. He thinks he's seen a glimmer of interest directed his way in return—sometimes more than just a glimmer—but the atmosphere is somber tonight and he doesn't think that will be an issue.
"Don't see you here very often, sir," he says by way of greeting, sliding onto the empty bar stool to Leonhart's right. He takes a small drink before placing his beer on the counter, studying the older man as unobtrusively as possible.
Leonhart glances his way, captivating blue eyes darker than usual in the dim light of the bar. That spark of recognition and attraction flashes briefly in his eyes, smothered quickly by whatever's troubling him, and then he looks back down at his empty glass. He turns it once in his hand, tips it up one way and then back the other, and then he opens his mouth, presumably to justify his presence even though he owes Cloud no explanation.
The blond shakes his head, indicating he need not bother. "Triple homicide, I heard."
Leonhart says nothing in reply, but pain briefly casts its shadow across his normally guarded expression, confirming Cloud's suspicions. His fingers tighten around the short glass, knuckles standing out in stark definition. Cloud's actually afraid for a moment that it might shatter under the pressure, but the brunet soon relaxes his grip and pushes it further away, just out of his reach.
The bartender approaches at the unspoken signal and fills it without a word, almost to the brim. From the knowing look on her face, Cloud can only assume it's not for the first time tonight.
Cloud watches him quietly, discreetly, giving Leonhart time to speak on his own terms if he so chooses. Just being this close to him under more casual circumstances is more than enough to keep Cloud's interest running high, so he doesn't mind too much that Leonhart seems lost in his thoughts long enough to need yet another refill.
It's only after his glass is half-empty again that he finally speaks.
"One of the victims...she was seven, maybe," he says, his voice dull and flat. "Probably younger."
Cloud grimaces and looks down at his own drink, which despite being his preferred brand suddenly seems completely unappealing, and the aftertaste from his last swallow is bitter on his tongue. It's horrible arriving at a scene like that in the first place, but to find a child...
It's quiet for a few more moments—or as quiet as a bar can be when it's nearly at capacity—and then Leonhart suddenly finishes off his drink and rises.
"I'm out of here," he says simply, tucking some money beneath the empty glass before turning away.
He's not completely steady on his feet, taking a second to get his bearings before heading towards the door, and the sight makes a small frown of concern crease between Cloud's eyebrows. He doesn't know the man's alcohol tolerance or how long he's been drinking, but Cloud can't in good conscience let him get behind the wheel right now.
"Hey," he calls out, twisting in his seat and catching Leonhart's attention before he's gone two steps. "I've only had one beer. Let me drive you."
Leonhart turns back to him and lifts one dark brow. After a second he makes a sound from the back of his throat that's partly derisive and partly amused.
Cloud snorts. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he mutters, rolling his eyes at the obvious assumption. "It's always 'only one beer, Officer', 'I swear, only two beers'." His mouth twists into a small smirk, and he's pleased to see a reflection of it threaten to show up on his boss's perfect, tempting lips. "Seriously, this was my first," he continues, rising from his seat and nodding towards the mostly empty bottle. "I know the legal limit and I know my own, and half a beer isn't anywhere near either of them. Come on."
An intensity builds in the smoky air between them as the brunet continues to gaze silently at him, making Cloud's heart pound harder in his chest and causing a definite stirring somewhere much less innocent. Under different circumstances, there might be more behind his offer than just a show of solidarity; thankfully, even though Leonhart seems to see right through him, he doesn't seem to mind.
Finally, the older man dips his chin in a small nod of acceptance, and he waits for Cloud to join him before continuing to pick his way towards the exit. "Thanks."
"No problem."
They're out in the clean, crisp night air a moment later, a formal arm's length away and mostly side by side as Cloud leads him to his motorcycle.
"I was going to call a cab, you know," Leonhart says when they're halfway there. He stuffs his hands into his pockets to ward off the cold, and Cloud subconsciously does the same.
"I don't mind," he says, shrugging one shoulder casually.
Once they're at the bike, he removes a spare helmet from one of the compartments and hands it to the other man before securing his own and tugging on his dark leather riding gloves. "So, where to?"
Leonhart is still staring at the helmet in his hands when Cloud turns back towards him, his face partially obscured from the neon lights by the dark bangs that hang before his eyes. Finally, he glances down the dark, empty road and sighs quietly. "Anywhere but here."