Disclaimer: I'm tired of writing this so if you aren't sure look at the 43 previous chapters.
A/N: I kind of like this request stuff. It's fun in a way. I'm not sure why Lazard's point of view was so eloquent, but I think I managed to pull of decent satire. You guys know what to do though (Read, review, enjoy).
Lazard Deusericus was a surprisingly hard man to intimidate. He was a mere un-enhanced man placed in charge of some of the most physically power being on the planet. Yet, they permitted themselves to be ordered about by him. Maybe it was because the large majority of his charges were little more than teenagers. Maybe it was because all of them were trained to to what they were told under the control of a tyrannical Heidegger. Maybe he was just likable to them. He didn't care so long as their relationship remained mostly symbiotic.
He finished giving a debriefing to a Hewley and a Rhapsodos, the latter of which he had been warned was a dramatic smartass, which he had thought had gone remarkably well. They seemed eager enough to be shipped out. He had a few minutes before his next meeting and slipped out.
The first time he had done it more than one room had gone quiet as he passed by. By now most of the upper level SOLDIERS were accustomed to this habit and had begun to nod as he passed. Two or three used it to prompt informal conversations about mild issues, typically interpersonal ones, that became smoothly resolved once the problem was addressed. The general aura nowadays was that most were entirely relieved to be away from Heidegger and generally wanted to please the man who didn't go looking for reprimands.
He passed a familiar head of silver in the halls, that would have been intimidating had the rest of the body finished meshing together. He could still see the bright-eyed seven-year-old that trailed before a young woman asking the pertinent question of the day (and there were many), but decided not to reminisce in it. He received and imparted a nod that took place of a greeting and passed by.
Then a hand jerked him backwards rather unceremoniously. Any sort of shout he would have normally imparted was cut back when a sword blade, apparently shattered, broke through the wall and embedded itself in the place where Lazard would have been standing.
Well...
"My apologies, sir," a voice said. Lazard got to his feet as gracefully as the situation allowed and turned to face Sephiroth again.
"I'm accustomed to just reacting," he said, "It was not my intention to drag you about like that." Lazard brushed off a bit of rubble and readjusted his glasses.
"It's quite alright," Lazard said, voice so shockingly even (even to himself), "I don't think the situation could have called for any other action." Sephiroth nodded, not relaxing in the least. Lazard debated between a thanks or an at ease.
"Thank you, by the way," Lazard added. Sephiroth nodded again and reached over to pull the blade from the wall.
"Might I take that?" Lazard asked. Sephiroth looked up.
"Sir?" he asked.
"I have a meeting with some people in building management,"Lazard said, "It's come to my attention that this floor could use some thicker walls." He wasn't certain, but Lazard thought he caught a smile on the usually expressionless face.
Lazard felt mildly ill at ease. He was now fully aware of the politics of the ShinRa Electric Power Company and that they were awfully skewed and that any disturbance was seen as a threat. He was a threat, and a large one, because he disturbed often and could rarely be rebuked. His six month tenure had been a great proof of that.
Still it felt like Professor Hojo of the Science Department was staring at him very strangely. He felt the need to keep his distance, but also found that Hojo was walking around in abnormal places lately.
"I hate it when he emerges," he heard a female voice grumble, "I'm the one they restrict." He nearly felt like he should follow Cass because she had a better handle on a situation like this.
"I can't help but think that he's following me," Lazard muttered quietly, to himself mostly. He did not expect Cass to take pause at that comment. She and her partner/companion (he didn't know and wouldn't judge) both spared a glance at each other. The looked over at Lazard then back down the hall where the swish of a labcoat could be seen.
"It is possible," the man said.
"He is showing all the signs," Cass muttered back.
"I'm sorry?" Lazard asked.
"Have you gotten more funding recently?" Cass asked. He nodded, wondering what on Earth that had to do with anything. "It probably got taken away from the Science Department, or that's how Hojo will choose to see it," Cass said.
"So?" Lazard asked.
"So he might be attempting revenge," Cass said, "Veld got us some funding and we had to track down one of our own guys he was experimenting on." Oh...that didn't sound good. He didn't exactly have a team of Turks to find him if Hojo wanted him to disappear. He heard rumors about that, and that Hojo never wasted anything.
"It is about time we reminded him why he stays in the lab," the male Turk said, "We could move Rude down here, Reno's too obvious. Veld maybe, though it's overkill."
"I like it when you let me go nuts," Cass said.
"What?" Lazard asked.
"Nothing," Cass replied, "but just remember, whatever happens next, I am...mostly sane."
It took a little less than half an hour. Lazard spent those edgy minutes deciding that yes, Hojo seemed to be observing him. Then a sharp cry took all of his attention. He turned in time to see Hojo dodge as Cass's previous companion, as well as several other Turks tackled Cass to the ground and attempt to pin her there.
He'd give her this: she was remarkably strong and flexible. He heard fabric tear as part of that lab coat that had been haunting him all day was torn away. He wasn't aware that Cass knew such colorful language, or that much about the male anatomy. They kept pinning her and she kept screaming for several minutes.
"That's good," The black-haired male said. The Turks jumped up and helped Cass to her feet.
"One day you'll slip and let me kill him," Cass said.
"I thought you were being a little too earnest," her friend said. She shrugged it off.
"I think I'm a little more grateful that you're my neighbor," Lazard said, before moving off on his way.
If Lazard was flattered to be invited to the bi-monthly poker game, he did not show it. It was surprising who showed up. Heidegger, Veld, Scarlet (in something other than her usual dress), Palmer, and Tuesti (who looked rather haggard).
He wasn't doing half bad (what with Heidegger and Scarlet's cutthroat attidutes, Palmer's lack thereof, Veld unreadable poker face, and Tuesti's wandering attention). He was rather surprised by the interruption, even more when Cass and her partner (he had inquited politely and received and answer in kind) came in.
"I'm terribly sorry sirs and madam," the male said, "but we have received word of a bomb threat and must move you to a safer floor." Heidegger predictably started bitching, but the rest moved along agreeably (as they had most of Heidegger's money anyway). Veld took the threat and reports of it and was reading it as they were escorted away.
"The safe areas are floors 49 through 35," Cass said politely, "We apologize for the inconvenience and promise that the issue will be resolved as soon as possible." Since the SOLDIER floor (newly refurbished) was deemed safe Lazard decided it couldn't hurt to get to his office and get a little extra work done.
He was in the elevator when he felt a shudder and the whole capsule went dark and died. It appeared that the situation had been resolved in a way, rather inconveniently at that.
It was (once again) half an hour, before anything happened. He sat in the dark waiting for something to get fixed or go wrong.
"Anyone in the elevator?" A voice called over. There was an intercom in the elevators. That was actually useful.
"Yes," he said.
"Right," the someone said, "Give us five more minutes." It took three and a half before Lazard heard someone.
"They're not staying open," he heard a muffled voice say.
"Then go get something to hold them open," another replied.
"Will this do?" Lazard nearly grinned at the new and utterly familiar voice. He recognized all of them now.
"Perfect," Cass's muffled voice said, "Thanks, Sephiroth." He heard the sound of something being placed between the outer doors. "Can you give me a hand?" she said. Finally he saw the doors being pried open and Cass's rather annoyed face between her hands that were forcing them apart. The elevator had stopped halfway up the doorway. Lazard could see Sephiroth holding up her feet and knew for a fact that it was not an effort.
"Oh it's you," Cass said relaxing, "There was a secretary in another one and that is a bitch fest I'd rather not repeat. Sorry for making you crawl out."
"I've done far worse," he said slipping out more gracefully than the suit foretold. "I'm guessing the bomb went off."
"No," Cass said, "that was faked, as it turns out, but the timing couldn't have been better." Lazard couldn't agree more, for more reason than one.