Disclaimer: Final Fantasy does not belong to me...however much I may like it to. I own no characters, places etc. etc. so please don't sue me! I'm a nice person :)
Author's Note: Chapter Fourteen...PLEASE review as I really enjoy reading your views and they inspire me to get better! It would make me very very happy! Anyway stop reading this and get on with reading the fic! Hope you enjoy! :)
Chapter Fourteen: Unfelt Guilt and Bold Demands
A small, yet inescapable series of perfectly patterned beeps sounded from the square-sided piece of equipment which stood with a professional correctness, in place, beside the bed's metallic frame.
The room was of a pale brightness, though it seemed very much to be free of windows, with lines of highly infused white bulbs, which, though providing more than enough light for the room's requirements, seemed rather dull and unhealthy; creating a strange feeling to find in such a place.
It was a wonder how any of the workers within the centre could manage to remain under such lifeless restrictions, as, while there were an array windows in the corridors, paired with the most beautifully invigorating views, those whose time was spent there, the chance of having time enough to catch a momentary glimpse, and bath within the glass-shielded sunlight long enough to grow warm, was of the small variety, so much so, that it would have been considered a myth.
Rufus's ice-blue gaze rolled over the thin, eerily still form which lay upon the bed, surrounded, and tucked in place with the finest-woven white linen. The slight rise and fall of his chest was the only thing that displayed the remaining life which fought ardently against the unseen damage that had caused such trauma within his body.
There was no blood, or bruising, or sign of injury, apart from a slight paling of the skin, and a general lifelessness and to many it would have appeared that the young male had suffered nothing at all, but the truth of the matter was of quite a serious nature, as everyone would know; internal damage was something else, as a mere scratch to the face is nothing compared to the same upon an organ. That was something to be feared.
Tseng shifted uneasily, before emitting a breaking cough, "He is in a stable, but critical condition Sir."
The Turk's gaze flickered over to the young blonde, though only for a moment, and upon receiving no response, he took it as a signal to continue, "The doctors aren't sure…they can't predict exactly how-"
He halted again, however this time due to a lack of want to admit, though he soon overcame it and managed to complete his report like statement, albeit with such quietness of tone, "It could be a mere few weeks before he's ready to work again…but then, there's a possibly he might never be fit enough to even leave this room."
Although the raven haired male was quite clearly using a great deal of energy in suppressing the pained concern which was edged so distinctly upon his face, his faltering tone and uncomfortable manner were all too real.
It was true that having to explain such a thing to someone like Rufus was no easy thing, especially when any displays of weakness or emotion would be either ignored or severely loathed, but although he was the leader of the Turks, and he had to be seen to set an example of professional and uncompromising conduct, he had also grown to care, rather deeply, for each and every employee under his order. He was like their father, and he felt responsible.
"They won't know for a while though, all they can do is monitor his progress…" He took a quick, steadying breath, before allowing his face to settle to a state of unfeeling calm, "There's no family to inform…but-"
"Miss. Lockhart." Rufus's brow twitched slightly, though his voice had not been raised, or filled with anything close to caring.
Tseng emitted a light sigh, "Yes…should I send someone?"
There was only a moments pause before the blonde responded with a simple, yet firm; "No."
The Turk's brow furrowed in confusion, though there was definitely a hint of curiosity within his tone, "Sir?"
"I shall go."
"Are you sure-"
Tseng halted in his questioning, when the young male turned swiftly with a flick of his silver-blonde locks and shot him a look as if to say; I'm the President, of course I'm sure.
"Shall I get the driver to-"
The raven-haired Turk had made to approach the door, but stopped in his motion when the President halted him with a simple raised hand gesture, "That will not be necessary; I shall not go to her till tomorrow."
"Be careful Sir, she might…grow rather upset...and there is the possibility that she'll take it out-"
He was paused once again by Rufus, whom made a point to lock his gaze upon the young male, "He's a Turk Tseng, like yourself, and he has been since the day they met. There was always a threat upon him, and she knows it…it could've happened at anytime…anywhere…"
Tseng's facial muscles clenched as an overwhelming desire to defend the red head washed over him, "But, he was alone and-"
The young blonde silenced him with a distinctly, well-trained glare, that oozed threat and yet was a beautifully crafted thing to behold.
"I think I shall depart now." He smirked lightly as he made to pass the raven-haired Turk, "No doubt, I'll be here again tomorrow with the young woman."
"And if his condition worsens?"
Rufus pointedly took his time in the delivery, and, as always, held both his gaze, and his tone together with steady, unemotional perfection.
"Then…it worsens."
A light breeze ruffled through the air, and gently whipped about the young man's coat, whose pale cream-brown shade added a hint of delicate refinement to his appearance, and yet took nothing away from his air of supremacy.
Rufus's form stood, quite still, outside the familiar entrance; his cold, blue gaze was seemingly fixed upon the door's darkly-polished surface, though on closer inspection, it would have appeared his eyes were rather more staring 'through' the wooden material, than actually at it.
He wasn't waiting for the bar's owner to allow him inside; in fact, he hadn't even taken the bother of knocking as to reveal his wish to enter, as the reality of the matter was, he was the President, and he didn't need anyone's permission, not even the inhabitant's, to pass over the threshold.
After a few, quiet seconds, the young blonde slide his right hand, down into his pocket's silk-lined depths, and allowed his fingers to shift through the few held items, before slowly lifting out the body-warmed surface of the desired piece of equipment, which was perfectly copied to equal its original.
The pale, slight dimmed light of day glinted upon the small, curved shape of the metallic item, which soon became shrouded within the lock it was made to fit, and after a swift-flick of the wrist, a dull click sounded and the door became released from its frame.
After his entrance, the young man brought the door and its frame back to their previously closed-latched position, before proceeding to make his way across the shadowed, unlit bar area, and through the usually bar-tended section.
Before long, he was standing at the foot of the paled-uncarpeted stairs, which the President knew from experience, lead straight up, and through to the young owner's flat, and place of residence.
A hint of a smirk graced the corners of the young man's thin, light shaded lips, as he mused over the consequences that would befall anyone, other than himself, if they took it upon themselves to enter a woman's home without their permission, or knowing.
The stairs emitted the smallest of creaks as his form ascended towards the painted door, which, like the other, he had full entrance to.
Soon enough he'd passed through the locked obstruction with the same amount of ease as its predecessor, and made his way across the lounge, and around to the sofa, before slowly lowering his form upon the cushioned rest.
He remained there for quite awhile without discovery or disturbance, though after picking up on a slight click that sounded from one of the doors, residing down the far-end of the corridor, homed just past the living room, the President knew it wouldn't be much longer until his presence was detected.
The approaching footsteps caused a somewhat teasing chuckle to emerge from his lips, though he managed, with a bought of will-power, to suppress the urge and remain silent, and unmoved, both in position and expression.
A gentle hum played within the brunette's throat, as she made her way down the corridor, and through to the lounge, though her brow furrowed upon noticing the rather unclosed state of her flat door, "What-" she made a swift, defensive turn, though merely jumped slightly upon spotting the young blonde, whom was viewing her with a degree of arrogant amusement.
After taking a few, brief moments to regain her composure, Tifa made to cross her arms, and raised a rather irritated eyebrow, "I don't remember inviting you into my home…"
She received nothing but a piercing stare from the young man, to which she emitted a tired, yet knowing sigh, "How did you get in?"
Rufus smirked, "I'm the-"
"The President…yeah…figured you'd say something like that."
Both her interruption and completion of his statement took the young man by surprise, but not the shocked-sort, but rather the vaguely amused and delighted, though, of course, he did not show it.
The brunette lowered her brow once again, as she made to close the flat door, whose open state has seemingly bothering her, "So, what are you doing here?"
"I've come to inform you-" Rufus halted in his response, when he observed the young woman's lack of concentration, as she appeared to be studying some supposedly interesting leaflet, which lay upon a nearby side-table.
He sighed lightly in exasperation, before attempting to draw her focus, "Miss. Lockhart."
"Hm?" The insistence filling his tone had evidently been successful with the brunette, albeit not to the degree required
"Miss. Lockhart, your attention is rather key…" He stopped again, though this time due to the rather unfamiliar, choking effects that came paired with confusion. For once, he was at a loss for words. What was the correct statement, the correct wording? He had no idea.
He emitted a huff of self-disappointed amusement,Maybe I should've had Tseng get someone else to do this after all…
Tifa's gaze flickered nervously as she observed the young President, whose quiet unease she had been quick to notice.
Her heart beat out of pattern, and painfully within her chest as the realisation dawned upon her that maybe, for once, this wasn't just a meeting made for mockery and wit-filled insults, and soon her crimson-tinted gaze had grown glassy with a fearful knowing, which proceeded to line her tone with a trembling apprehension, "What?...What is it?"
Tifa's heeled feet clacked forcibly upon the tiled corridor, her anger, confusion, and fear becoming of such magnitude, that her ability to control it was growing rather weak.
She turned her head, so it was tilted, though only slightly, in the direction of the young blonde President, whom was walking by her side, and finding no difficultly in keeping up with her quickened pace.
"If he dies-"
"You'll kill me slowly, and painfully."
Her brow raised at his mocking, yet eerily calm remark, though soon fell back into its contorted position, as she continued towards the unfamiliar spot, to which, technically, she was being lead, though anyone viewing the pair would have believed them to be of equal knowing.
Within moments so lost her hold upon her lidded emotions, and began biting out her query with a harshness only ever able to be produced with a hint of intense disdain, "Why did you come, and not one of your lackeys anyway?'' she huffed deeply, as an angered sneer curled itself upon her pale pink lips, "Was it so you could see my face?"
Rufus twitched uncomfortably at the accusation, and was rather surprised to find himself feeling somewhat dejected at her low opinion. True, he enjoyed pain, and misery bestowed upon the less fortunate, especially when it was his own doing, but this was different, and she should know it.
He cursed inwardly at his own, stupidly misdirected emotions, It's nothing more than a presumption…and a fault-ridden one at that…why should she know it? Why should I expect it of her… She doesn't know anything…
"No. It was because it was my decision."
Tifa had been watching his prolonged reaction carefully, and for the briefest of moments, thought she'd spotted something else, though when he finally managed to make his response it had been as cold and steady as ever.
She sighed tiredly, "Why do you have to be so confusing?"
"I'm not."
The brunette emitted another sigh, though it was noticeably lighter than its predecessor, "Well, I can't understand you."
As they came to a stop outside their wanted destination, Rufus facial contours calmed to a state of pure unreadability, though something hinting in his voice seemed to portray a sense of complete and utter disbelief and bewildered curiosity.
"Why would you want to?"
Tifa's own expression lightened, as his query took effect, though before she could even begin to form some kind of response, the doorway opened and the broken red-headed form upon the bed took hold of her attention with a troubling force.
Rufus hand held the entrance free, as she passed through, and before he returned the doorway to it closed position, and the brunette to her privacy, he stated the instruction firmly, and without feeling, "You'll have the remains of the hour."
Rufus's hands lay clasped and rested upon the small of his back, whilst his icy blue gaze penetrated through the reflective sheet of glass, which, as always, and expected, was of a smug-free standard, whilst a solitary clacking pattern of footsteps echoed within the confines of the corridor's interior, as a nurse pasted through with the trained air of professional grace.
The noise didn't bother him; in fact, the very presence of another didn't even seem to register with the young blonde, though that wasn't to say he was becoming lacklustre with his sense of awareness, or concentration, but it was just that now, after hearing so many variations of work-like stirrings, he'd somewhat managed to lock them away, and out, of his mind's current deliberations.
Although his focus appeared to be directed purely upon the rather spectacular urbanised scenery which was laid out before him, Rufus's thoughts were completely centred around a different, and to him, an all the more enchanting subject, though no-one would have thought it that strange for anyone, even him, to be so entranced by the brilliantly displayed view.
An array of steel structured, newly-built towers glinted brightly against the skyline, whilst the both commercial, and residential, lower-placed selection of buildings, littered around their foundations, with an almost purposefully, mismatched perfection.
Edge had been shaped with a rather needed swiftness; after the destruction of Midgar, the degree of the city's population that had managed to flee, and therefore survive the Meteor attack, had found themselves soon void of anywhere to settle, and though some did stray to the neighbouring areas, their were few who dared attempt to seek shelter in the devastated remains of the old Midgar, and thus, following a somewhat silently and unseen decision, the city of Edge arose.
The difference between the two cities would have appeared to be rather drastic, if both were able to be studied side by side; the previous being clearly sectioned, with one class separated from the other, almost mockingly, and yet both were somewhat self-forced to live in a cloud of darkness, and retained a complete lack of control over their world, with every, single decision being made by the company that towered over, and around them all. The new city however was bathed in the pale, unknown light of both the sun and the moon, bringing, to some, a whole new experience, and a whole new canvas of sky to their eyes. It would also have been true to say that the population, now somewhat freed from the oppressive power of Shinra, had become rather much like an unherded flock of previously cared for sheep, their independence both being wanted and feared, as their lives took on a sort of aimless confusion.
Though that wasn't to say that the President, or his company, had been belittled, or indeed in any way, destroyed, but rather that they had fallen back from a battle which had been laid upon not just them, but the entire planet, in order to recover and regroup, and though at the moment they appeared to have been beaten into a somewhat sparse existence, Rufus knew, better than any, that they were merely waiting. Though even his mindful planning held no degree of troubled resonance, at least not today, anyway, as his current thoughtful attention laid rather uncomfortably upon a much closer and yet more complex subject.
He did not feel guilty, that was not an option, guilt was a reaction of the weak and self-doubting, he had made the decision and he had carried out the order, that was it, and he would do it again, even with the knowing of what damaging consequence would be born as a result.
It was true, to others his current lack of ability to hold his composure in the company of the brunette, would have been assumed to be something likeable to remorseful convict, though a convict not able, at least outwardly, to express his apologies and regret, though the reality of his discomfort arose from quite a different source, that niggling, unfamiliar irritation, which both engulfed his mind, and clutched at his nerves; jealously.
It was a simple enough for many to understand, but for the President, the trouble in the dissection of such an unknown, emotional reaction, that surfaced each and every time he was reminded, or forced to observe the bond shared between the red headed Turk, and the young woman whom, although having played some small part in his life from the moment she was born, had, till rather unpurposefully entering his world once again, been nothing more than another common citizen, was something of an a difficulty to say the least, and yet his mind seemed to ravel in the curiosity it brought about.
Rufus emitted a silent breath as his conscious state began to escape the flood of thought-provoking reflections, and return to the pale reality of the centre's corridor, into which, the young brunette had quite silently managed to enter.
Her voice appeared to falter when she realised her presence had gone somewhat unnoticed, and for a few moments, she remained hovering beside the doorway, through which she had passed, whilst it came to a gentle, yet still audible close.
The slight click that followed from the metallic latch, resonated just enough through the echo-prone corridor to bring the young blondearoundtothe discovery of the feminine variety, and with all the grace that came at such an ease to him, Rufus turned about, and allowed his unmoving gaze to rest upon the quite attractive disturbance.
Her lips parted, though remained without sound for a while, before the young brunette managed to rather quietly emit her request, "I want to come and see him tomorrow…is that-" she paused for a moment in both disgust and uneasiness at her finishing query, "…allowed?"
"Yes."
The swiftness at which he'd answered took Tifa rather by surprise, and she made no effort to conceal her reaction, as she proceeded to allow a quiet calm to settle between them, before airing another, slightly nervous inquiry.
"How do I get here? I mean, I was brought by you and I don't know-"
"A driver can be arranged."
His tone was one of pure, steady authority, and contained not so much as a hint of emotion, and yet his eyes portrayed something most conflicting, enough in fact, to confuse the brunette to a state of intrigue, though she took it upon herself to withhold her curiosity for a later meeting.
She took a rather unnoticeable step towards the President, whilst her fingers began to dance nervously together, "And…what about the matter of a pass?"
Again he neither smiled, nor displayed any hint of his previous unease, his usual state of unfeeling arrogance now seemingly returned, "I'll inform the Turks. There'll be one stationed here no doubt, they can get you access."
Tifa made to grimace or air something with intent to annoy and infuriate, but found herself rather too troubled and all too confused to do so, and instead responded with a simple; "Fine."
Another silence proceeded to pass between them, though this time, the brunette seemed unable to keep her eyes from the young man's form, as they even took to narrowing slightly upon their thoughtful inspection, and yet seemed to be, in some form, expectant.
Rufus was neither blind, nor ignorant to the attention being bestowed upon him, but although he did at first show hints of amusement, his expression soon reverted, and he displayed upon the brunette, a pure and unadulterated glare of perplexed displeasure.
"What are you doing?"
The young woman twitched lightly as she swiftly halted in her observations, and even showed touches of embarrassment, as a slight red hue appeared to brush upon her cheeks, "What? Nothing, I-"
He brought her to a halt with a simple hand gesture, and after studying her own, nervous continence for a few brief moments, he made his own evaluation.
"You look like you're waiting for something…"
His brow rose only slightly, but it display enough to force a rather shy smirk to curl upon the young brunette's lips, "I'm not."
A deep and mocking chuckle rumbled within Rufus's throat, "And to think you used to be able to lie your way through Shin-Ra's security fields…"
Her face looked almost desperately restrained as she attempted denial, rather fruitlessly, "I'm not lying-"
"Yes you are." His tone almost sounded as if it were converted to an expression, would appear as the most arrogantly knowing sneer, "You don't think I can spot a liar? Every motion, every change, every little falter played upon the features…I can read all the signs of a deceiver."
Again, for the second time within the course of a mere five minutes, Tifa felt the need to diminish and trample upon the blonde's words, though this time she found herself unable of simulating her previous decision of restrain, "If you're so good at understanding people…then why are you alone?"
His brow made to furrow, but then seemed to think better of the action and remained set in place, "Because I choose to be."
His gaze lowered slightly, before turning swiftly towards the facing double-doors, through which a well-dressed form could be seen, and after a wave-like gesture from Rufus, the young, unnamed male proceeded to make his way as quickly, and yet, as calmly as possible through the doors, and along the corridor, before coming to rest beside the President, to whom he gave a curt nod.
"Would you please prepare the car for myself and Miss. Lockhart."
The driver gave another quick nod, "Yes Sir, and the destination?"
"My house."
The male nodded once more, before departing from the pair's presence, and heading back through the double doors through which he had just passed.
Tifa's brow had been contorted with confusion, "What-?''
"It's getting late, and you couldn't have eaten since this morning."
Her brow furrowed further, though a smile played upon her lips, and yet it was not filled with happiness or joy, but rather nervous bafflement, "But…I don't…I don't understand?"
Rufus allowed no smirk or hinted smile to grace his own lips, though his tone did not soon unkind either, "It's simple enough; you and I are going to have dinner together."
The young brunette looked both fearful and angered at the prospect, "I don't think-"
"Miss. Lockhart, all this hostile mockery of emotional dribble you insist upon me is becoming rather grating, and as such I rather think it is time we spent some conversational time together, out of an office, and out of public display…where your playful dramatics will be of no use."
She stared at him for a few moments, with an unreadable expression, that remained as she attempted to shift the insulting words from the statement's actual intent, though the conclusion that came from these precise workings seemed to confuse the brunette even further.
Upon seeing the young woman's utter bafflement, Rufus decided to take it upon himself, and direct them both to his liking.
Clasping his hands together, once again upon the small of his back, the blonde turned, whilst calling rather knowingly back to the still form of Tifa, "Come on, my driver is waiting."
A/N= I'm so, so, so sorry this took soooooo long to get out. I'veliterallybeenkicking myself over allowing such a prolonged delay. I'd actually written the full plan for this chapter about…five…yeah five days ago, but then my computer got a virus and decide to go at a snail's pace…a disabled snail…and then my mate got back from uni, and came over for a couple of days and totally took all my time up, so yeah…sorry :( But I can almost certainly promise you the next update will be much, much quicker…and will, at the latest be up by the end of next week!
But anyway, I know this chapter's a little…slow? but it's more of a 'bridge' for the main happenings within the next few chapters, which are gunna havealot (and I mean A LOT) of pure, RufusxTifainteraction! I actually wrote about five pages of conversation between them in this chapter and ended up taking it out for a later chapter…and that's just something extra to what's already planned.
And I purposefully didn't go further into what had happened to Reno because I felt it should be left more to the imagination...
Oh, and when I was writing this, I was watching Pride and Prejudice (the bbc series because it rocks!) and I couldn't help but see the smallest similarities between Tifa and Elizabeth, and Rufus and Darcy…it was kinda weird…