5.

"I don't see why you'd invite me all the way out here and not want something illegal, you damn skunkwad!"

Rufus rubbed his temples. "I just wanted to talk with you, Mr. Highwind. You know, talk? Civilly? Over tea?"

"Talk over tea my ass! There ain't no goddamn tea, and no whiskey neither!" Cid paused a moment to chew on his cigarette and contemplate his next verbal barrage.

::Go into the kitchenette – the tea should be ready.::

"If you'll bear with me a moment," Rufus grated, "I'll be right back in with the tea."

"Ah, knowing you Shinras, you'll be back in with a half dozen thugs lookin' to jack me up, you good-for-nothin' piece of –"

The door swooshed shut behind the wheelchair, and Rufus let out the breath he'd been holding. He took a few more measured breaths in an effort to defuse the headache that had begun to settle in behind his right eyeball.

The tea was, indeed, ready: a neat little teapot full of Wutaian black sat beside two cups on a matching tray. Rufus lifted the pot and filled the first cup, then aimed for the second.

Jenova's telepathic control stopped him cold. ::Now, dump me into the tea!::

"What?!?"

"What?" came Cid's muffled voice.

"Nothing!" Rufus called, his voice breaking on the second syllable. To Jenova, he hissed, "What do you mean, dump you in the tea?"

::How else am I going to claim my new host, you idiot? Get him to scoop me up and stuff me into his solar plexus?::

"Well…"

::Do it now! Before he gets curious!::

Hands trembling, Rufus Shinra tore off the safety tape on the containment box and felt around for the seam that had to be there somewhere. His fingernails slid home, and he pried the box open.

His mind reeled at the eldritch horror within the simple black box, and for a moment he felt his sanity skip tracks like a chipped record. Then the soothing voice of Mother came to his rescue. ::Open the teapot, that's a good boy…::

Rufus lifted the lid off the teapot, aimed the black box at the steaming liquid, and dumped. Viscous green goop clung to the box; Rufus cast about for something to scrape it loose with, found the teaspoon, improvised. Within moments, most of the remaining Jenova cells were lying quietly beneath serene waters, much like Cthulhu at R'lyeh though not sleeping so much as gloating.

Not sure what to do with the slime-covered teaspoon, Rufus chucked it into the black box and forced the lid back on. He slid the tea service onto his lap and turned back toward the door, and his guest.

"About goddamn time! You stuffed shirts, y'all think you can yank us around, make us wait for –"

"Tea," Rufus said with a wide, yet somehow lopsided, smile. He poured the second cup, noting with a shudder that the liquid was now an opaque and oily greenish-black.

Cid stared, his expression slowly turning to one of admiration. He lifted the cup and sniffed. "Is this what I think it is?"

"I strongly doubt it."

Cid grinned and raised his cup in a little toast. "Well, I gotta say I had you wrong, Roof! Here I was, thinkin' you had some kinda ulterior motive!" He took a sip, frowned, then drained the cup. "Damn, that's some strong –" Mid-sentence, Cid Highwind toppled sideways to the floor.

Unnoticed by either man, the liquid that spilled from the fallen cup began to eat through the hardwood.