True to his word to Tseng, although it set his teeth on edge, Rude knocked on Reno's apartment door that morning slightly earlier than he normally stopped by to pick him up for work. Several long moments passed, and Rude heard several crashes and bouts of cursing before the door was yanked open to reveal Reno, half-dressed, hair disheveled.
"D'you have to knock so loudly?" the redhead snapped, holding his head. "I'll be ready in a few."
Rude waited for his partner to finish dressing. "You make it to your bed last night?" he asked as they began the short walk to headquarters.
"Nah, I woke up on the floor," Reno told him, somewhat grumpily, stretching his stiff back. "You picked a hell of a night not to get me to my bed, partner. Feels like a chocobo used my back for a racing track."
"I was tired," Rude defended. "It's not my job to baby you."
"Yeah, yeah," Reno yawned. "Ya keep up this pissy attitude I'll start to think ya don't like me anymore, partner."
"Just restless," Rude murmured.
Reno looked down, his bright lashes stark against his cheek. "I get that. Seems like there ain't much use for Turks now that most of the fighting's done." They reached headquarters, stepping into the elevator to ride up to their office. Reno punched the tenth floor button, quieter than usual due to his tender head. He didn't answer Elena's cheerful morning greeting, only made a beeline for the coffee pot.
Tseng stuck his head out of his office. "Good, you're all here. Come into my office; I have something to discuss."
Reno grumbled but obeyed, taking the coffee pot with him. Rude and Elena stood in front of Tseng's desk politely, but Reno merely started to pour himself cup after cup of coffee and gulp down the scalding liquid at an alarming rate until the pot was nearly empty and Tseng was glaring at him, his hand twitching a little next to his own empty mug.
"Tomorrow night, the president is having a charity gala," the director told them. "We'll all be working security."
Reno snorted a bit. "Never thought we'd be working a charity gig," he said with a grin.
Tseng's lips twitched imperceptibly. "Be that as it may, there are, without a doubt, those who still believe Shinra means the planet harm. Be on your guard."
They nodded, filing out of the office. Reno was about to go brew more coffee when Tseng called him back. "Reno, a moment."
"Yeah, boss man?"
Tseng folded his hands beneath his chin, his dark eyes calculating. "This is a formal occasion, Reno. When you report for duty tomorrow night, I will expect your shirt to be buttoned, tucked in, and for you to be wearing a tie. Is that clear?"
Reno swallowed. "That ain't really necessary, is it? I been wearin' my trademark sloppy uniform for years, boss."
Tseng's eyebrows drew tight. "Shinra is turning over a new leaf, Reno. I've given up trying to make you wear your uniform properly for everyday tasks, but this is a black tie gala. You will do as I've ordered." The venom in Tseng's voice shut down any more complaints from Reno. He just snapped his mouth shut and nodded tightly before stalking back to the office he shared with Rude. Any good mood (which, being hungover, there wasn't much of in the first place) had dissipated.
He flung himself down in his chair, immediately regretting it as the action made his head pound. Reno went to take a gulp of the remaining coffee in his mug, but his hand was shaking so badly it slopped all over his chest.
"Fuck!" the redhead howled. "That fucking burns, man!"
Rude looked over from his own desk. "What's eating you?"
"Tseng's making me wear a fucking tie tomorrow, I gotta tuck in my shirt, and button it up!" Reno growled as he scrubbed at this coffee-stained shirt.
Rude blinked at him. Reno was dramatic, but this was over the top. "Is that really so bad?" he asked with a frown.
Reno glared at him. "It is for me," he said petulantly.
Rude raised his eyebrows, choosing to not remark on his partner's childishness. He went back to work, long years of practice allowing him to concentrate through Reno's swearing and general loudness.
The next night, the Turks assembled sharply at seven o'clock in Rufus's office.
"Where's Reno?" Elena asked, and Tseng frowned. Reno might have been lazy and irritating, but he never skipped work. The director was opening his mouth to say something when the subject of their conversation sauntered in.
Rude was moderately surprised at how Reno looked. In the ten years they had been partners, he had never seen Reno wear the proper Turk uniform. Now, the redhead's shirt was tucked into his trousers and it was fully buttoned, and the standard-issue black tie was knotted sloppily around his neck. What surprised Rude the most, though, was how drawn and pale Reno looked, and the slight frown on his face. His shoulders were stiff and tense.
"Sorry, boss man. I, uh, couldn't figure out how to tie this thing."
Tseng reached over, untying his tie and efficiently re-knotting it properly. "You cleaned up all right," the Wutaiian said, with more kindness than usual.
Reno glared. He glared through the limo ride to the venue, and he glared quietly, which everyone noticed and thought was strange. Several times Tseng and Elena asked if he was all right, but he shrugged them off, saying he was fine. Rude simply studied him, and Rufus was too busy going over his speech to pay any mind.
They arrived amid flashes from camera lenses and mobs of people. Tseng escorted Rufus and the other three spread out slightly, sharp eyes scanning the crowds for any signs of trouble. Once inside, Tseng placed them at strategic points around the venue, not far from Rufus, who had commanded the attention of the packed room from the podium. Tseng himself stood behind the president's left shoulder, dark eyes never resting.
Rude crossed his arms at his post, studying the crowds beyond his shades. Through the earpieces they were all wearing, Cissnei and the other Turks patrolling kept them updated on movement on the rest of the floor.
"All clear for now," came the auburn-haired girl's sweet voice as Rufus began speaking. The Turks tuned out his words, knowing from experience that surveying a crowd took one's full concentration.
"I see something," came the voice of a Turk through the earpiece, several minutes later. Rude thought it sounded like Liliana, but he couldn't be sure.
"What?" he said into his own device. "And give me your ID code."
"Code 749," came Liliana's crackling voice. "And it's the elevator shaft. It's—" She broke off with a little cry, and Rude's head snapped up. He caught Reno's eye from across the room and knew the redhead had heard it too.
"Orders, Tseng?" came Reno's smooth voice through the earpiece.
Rude could see Tseng hesitate. "Hold your positions," the man said finally. "Cissnei, see if you can spare someone to cover Liliana's position and check out the situation. It's unlikely that—" He too broke off, and Rude saw his director's piercing eyes zeroing in on something across the great hall.
"And we, at Shinra, upholding the—" Rufus was interrupted as he was tackled unceremoniously to the ground by his head Turk right as a popping sound echoed through the air. Blood spurted and there were screams from the crowd as Rude, Reno, and Elena fought their way through to their president's side.
Rufus's face was white, but one look showed Reno that the blood wasn't coming from him. Tseng had pushed the president up behind the podium and was crouching by him, pistol drawn and a circle of blood growing on his back.
"Tseng!" Elena cried.
"It's fine," the director said through gritted teeth. "The bullet lodged in the muscle in my shoulder. I'll be fine." Despite the words, his lips were white with pain. "Elena, help me get Rufus to the car. Reno, Rude, go after the sniper." They hesitated, and he roared, "Now! He's getting away!"
Drawing their weapons, Rude and Reno ran for the stairs. "Ciss?" Reno gasped. "Ciss, what's the situation up there?"
"I'm not sure!" came Cissnei's voice through their earpieces. She was breathing hard. "It looks like they came up one of the elevator shafts. One of them was under maintenance." They followed her directions as she guided them verbally through the corridors until they reached the sniper's spot.
"Of course he's gone," Reno panted. "My bet is he's long gone since he failed."
Rude didn't answer. He was crouched on the floor, studying something.
"What's up, partner?"
Rude just pointed. Reno crouched down too, running a finger over the scratches on the hardwood flooring.
"What's SX mean?" The letters were intricate and intertwined, but no less clear.
"No idea."
Reno got to his feet with a sigh. "Let's get back to the limo. Ain't no one her anymore." They stepped into the elevator and Rude punched the button for the ground floor.
For what felt like the thousandth time, Reno tugged at his collar as the lift descended. He was still breathing hard from the run and his chest felt tight, like no oxygen was getting through. Reno swallowed, breath coming faster as dark spots started to dance in front of his eyes. His heart pounded and he could feel it in his temples, his body screaming at him that there wasn't any air to breathe. It was like someone had their hands around his neck, squeezing, squeezing, and he was gasping, trying to rip the hands away as his knees buckled.
Rude heard his partner's breathing speed up and turned in time to see Reno collapse. He caught the redhead, dropping his weapon as he pulled the emergency stop and lowered the other man to the ground. Reno's face was bone white, his eyes wide, blank, and panicked, and his hands were clawing at his throat. Rude was alarmed, wondering briefly if there was some magic afoot, but then remembered Reno's penchant for panic attacks. Although he was unsure what had brought this one on, Rude nevertheless checked his partner's vitals, then cupped his face in his hands.
"Reno," the dark Turk said urgently. "You need to breathe. Nothing is wrong, just slow down and keep taking long, slow breaths."
Reno's hands continued to rake at his neck, and he managed to choke out a few words. "I can't—Rude—fuck—Ifrit help me I can't fucking breathe!" He was tearing at his shirt and chest.
With practiced fingers Rude untied Reno's tie and ran his hand down the redhead's chest, popping the buttons free so his partner's heaving torso was exposed. His hand lingered over Reno's wildly beating heart.
"Breathe, Reno. Calm down, everything's all right." Reno's eyes locked with Rude's through his sunglasses and slowly started to focus again, and Rude could see that he was struggling to do as he'd said. "I'm right here," Rude murmured, uncharacteristically gentle as he stroked the skin above Reno's heart a little.
Slowly, Reno drew in a long, shuddering breath, his eyes finally focusing completely. He sat up slowly, bracing an arm on his knee and leaning his forehead against it. Rude's hand slipped from his chest, but the big Turk kept a hand at Reno's back to steady him. "Okay?" Rude asked. Reno just continued to breathe slowly, using his free hand to tug his shirt free from his pants. Rude heard him swear softly.
"I told you the tie would be a problem, man," Reno said quietly. "Ain'tcha ever wonder why I dress like this?" He gestured to his now-open shirt, untucked and less restricting.
"Figured it was just you pissing off the higher-ups," Rude replied, sitting back a little to regard his partner.
Reno looked at him, then away, smirking a little. "Well, yeah, there's that too." Then he sobered. "Constricting clothing and stuff makes me flip out, partner. That's why I acted like such an ass when Tseng told me to dress up."
"Tell him why you can't do it," Rude suggested, then winced a little. Reno eyed him.
"Tell Tseng of the Turks I have a weakness?" He snorted. "That's the shittiest idea you've had in a long, long time, partner." Reno scooted back a little so he could lean against the elevator's wall. His fair skin was slick with sweat and he was still obviously struggling to breathe slowly. "Start the elevator up again, Rude. I need some fresh air."
Rude hit the emergency stop again and they lurched into motion. He was itching to ask Reno why restricting his breathing even by a little bit made him panic so much, but the redhead's dismissive tone told him Reno would just shake it off and refuse to answer.
The elevator dinged and Rude held out his hand. Reno took it, stroking the rough, calloused skin of his partner's palm a little as Rude pulled him to his feet. Rude shot him a look and Reno grinned what he had self-dubbed his 'sexy grin.'
Rude shook him off, but was secretly a little glad. If Reno was flirting, he had to be feeling better. They made their way to the limo, where Rufus was safely inside with Elena and Tseng. Tseng's bloodied blazer and shirt had been removed, and Elena was looking at his wound, her pretty face pinched in worry.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Reno asked. "You shoulda got Tseng to medical!"
"He insisted it was not life-threatening," Rufus said coolly, none too pleased about the blood that was dripping onto the limo seat fabric, and even less pleased about his gala being ruined. He signaled to the driver and they pulled away from the curb. "You didn't find them?"
"They'd skittered already," Reno said with a frown. "Left a mark, though." He pulled out his phone and showed Rufus the design that had been dug into the wood of the floor. The president frowned, his sandy eyebrows drawn together.
"Is that an SX?"
"Yeah. Ain't got no idea what it means, though." Reno pocketed his phone again.
Tseng spoke up. "It looks like a tag. Some snipers leave them. A new rebel group perhaps?" He winced as Elena probed his wound.
"Well, you were right about it not being life threatening," Elena told him, her voice unusually sharp. "But you're losing a lot of blood, and the bullet's in there deep."
"We'll be back soon," Rufus said. "The doctors at headquarters will take care of him."
When they pulled up to the building, Reno and Rude checked the streets before escorting Rufus back to his office while Elena helped Tseng into the building. The Wutaiian man protested, saying he needed to keep an eye on their president if there were new assassins on the prowl, but Reno simply scoffed, waving him off with a "The hell could you do with a gimp arm anyway?"
Rufus was quiet, brooding at his desk while Rude and Reno guarded his office. The young president was racking his brain, sifting through the multitude of people who wished him harm. Though the list was long, it was far shorter than it had been before Shinra reformed. Rufus's eyebrows knitted. Who would want to gun him down at a charity gala, for Shiva's sake?