all that jazz
theme 19: lunchtime
The Turks were the Elite.
They ate with no-one but themselves.
Tseng was the exception to this rule, preferring to mingle with the higher-ups. And that was fine; since the Turk Trio considered him to be in another league of his own.
Elena burst into tears.
"What do you mean, I can't join you?"
"Oh don't try that, sweet cheeks." Reno looked away, knowing that the second he met her brown eyes, he'd give in. "Rules are rules. You cannot have lunch with us unless you prove yourself. And so far? You haven't." Damn that girl for making him feel bad for making her cry. "You may fool others with your teary act, but not me."
"But I… I brought tacos. And gobstoppers. And Heroes. And sandwiches! I brought the sandwiches that you asked for!" Elena's eyes became glassy and shimmery.
"Yes. Yes, you did, 'Lena. But you forgot the pocky sticks. And that," Reno shook his head, grave, "is unforgivable. You cannot dine with us today."
"But—"
"Rules are rules, 'Laney. I can't go against them."
"… but I also brought a whole pack of unopened alcohol, fresh from the fridge." Elena sniffed, walking away.
Oh. Well, that changed things.
"Come in! Come in! Come dine with us." Reno opened the door with vigour, letting the Rookie Turk join them.
… Reno was exiled from the Turk's dining room for the day.
The rules were absolute.
If Elena didn't go, Reno had to, for breaking them.
For Rude's word was as good as law.