Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Chronicles of Valentine ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: The pace is going to pick up a little. After all, I have close to 2000 years to cover.

 

Chronicles of Valentine: Chapter Two

 

>>September 13, 2000<<

 

Reeve sat back in his chair and perused the documents I had appropriated for him, his brow lifting in pleasant surprise. “Now, this is interesting,” he murmured, flickering his gaze at me sitting in the chair across from him before returning to the papers.

 

“I wouldn't know,” I responded, idly running well-trained hands over one of my guns. A bullet had jammed earlier, forcing me to switch to the Death Penalty despite my intention of only relying on the smaller handguns. I wanted it fixed before I was sent out again.

 

The head of the WRO chuckled and shook his head, lying the papers down on his desk. “You really don't look at them, do you?”

 

I didn't bother to answer. I didn't ask what Reeve wanted those things for. Why he had asked me to retrieve some documents from the ShinRa mansion was beyond my understanding but it wasn't up to me to question. He had reassured me on more than one occasion that nothing as cruel as human experimentation was going on in the WRO's research division, even going so far as to introduce me to Shalua Rui, one of the scientists. I supposed Reeve didn't want to risk losing my aid on account of my hatred for laboratories and all things associated.

 

“No,” he agreed, answering for himself. “You wouldn't.” He watched me for a minute, eyes uncomfortably penetrative as I had been noticing with more frequency lately.

 

I couldn't tell what he wanted from me, if he was simply dying to ask the same questions as everyone else or if there was something else. Reeve was far too adept at hiding his real intentions. I supposed it came from having to hide the fact he was sympathetic to the poor rather than trying to extort more from them like his prior associates.

 

In the past year since I had been working with Reeve and the WRO, I had come to accept that they really were trying to help the people. Just a few months ago, Shera and her research team had stumbled upon a breakthrough in using materia to power the world. Using fully-matured materia, a small dose of applied ether, and a derived machine similar to the barrier generator in Cid's airship, they were even able to make it affordable.

 

During the times when I wasn't guarding Reeve, that had been my duty for the most part. Taking the materia out into the field and working to mature it for electricity uses. I didn't even need to ask why they wouldn't let Yuffie do it. It wasn't unlike monster hunting in a way. I preferred the bodyguarding.

 

What was perhaps the most surprising of the pretty mundane turn my life had taken was the slowly built friendship between Reeve and myself. He didn't try to turn his charity, fix-everything bullshit on me like I half-expected him to, and he was intelligent. Which only furthered my theory that Cait Sith was just a cover for people to underestimate him. I was grudgingly building respect for him, and perhaps even admiration.

 

This was a man who had spent the last ten years or so of his life in ShinRa's grasp and still somehow managed to keep a hold onto his own morals. There weren't many who could claim that. And not only that, but he had survived as well, relatively intact.

 

I supposed it was easier for me to grow close to Reeve considering that of my companions, Cloud and company, he was the nearest to myself in age. I didn't count Barret because while we had fought together, I didn't think that man would ever completely trust me. Not to mention I was certain he was an idiot. Reeve, on the other hand, wouldn't surprise me if his test scores proved to be genius level. There was a certain level of knowledge beneath the surface that he didn't really show everyone.

 

I was certain of it.

 

Reeve rearranged the papers on his desk with a definite shuffling noise, most likely an attempt to garner my attention. I lifted my gaze from my gun to his as he leaned back in his seat, putting on his conversational face. Which meant that business was over.

 

“How have you been?”

 

A valid question considering the last time I actually spoke to him face to face was a few weeks ago. I had received this last order by cell phone messaging.

 

I shifted my gaze to the side, hands restlessly running over the weapon in my lap. “I am alive,” I answered vaguely.

 

How was I supposed to respond? I wasn't going to talk about the nightmares or the lingering thoughts. Reeve was my friend but I wasn't about to turn him into my psychologist. There were some pains that it was better for a man to keep to himself. Contrary to popular opinion, we didn't all need to talk out our ills. I would solve them on my own.

 

He seemed amused by my answer. Shaking his head, he continued, “You know, Cloud and Tifa had their first child last week.”

 

I hadn't even known the busty brunette was pregnant though I was aware that the two had gotten married not long after the battle against the remnants. Knowing Cloud the whole affair was kind of suspicious to me but who was I to judge?

 

“Oh?” I said, genuinely interested. It was nice to know that while my life had seemingly stagnated, everyone else was going on their merry way. Then again, considering that I was going to live forever, or at least it seemed that way, what was the point of doing anything?

 

“A daughter,” he explained with a note of fondness to his tone. Perhaps even a bit of jealousy. “Tifa was ecstatic.”

 

Notice the lack of comment on Cloud's reaction. He was probably just so goddamned relieved that Hojo's experimentation hadn't screwed up his chances at having a normal family. I, however, wasn't willing to take the chances. And no way in hell was I going to let any scientist come near me with the desire to find out. I'd rather dwell in my ignorance.

 

It made me wonder why Reeve hadn't started a family of his own. He certainly seemed like the type of man to want that sort of thing, despite his crazy work-ethic that kept him in the office way after closing time. As far as I knew, he wasn't married, his family was dead. He was actually pretty alone in the world. It didn't seem… right, for lack of a better word.

 

It truly was a pity; Reeve was an attractive man. Not to mention intelligent, considering all that he had designed. If he had given me the slightest inkling he were anything but straight I might have actually made a pass on him.

 

“I'm sure she was,” I commented, replying only because it had been a while since I had spoken and I didn't want Reeve to ask concerned questions when there was nothing wrong with me.

 

Luckily, the phone chose that moment to ring, a loud noise in the calm quiet of Reeve's office. He started a bit, eyes darting to the device before he sighed and finally reached for the receiver.

 

“Tuesti,” he answered crisply, looking mildly perturbed. His eyes widened slightly when he realized whom was on the other end though I couldn't tell the identity. “Of course I am surprised. It isn't often you do me the honor of calling.”

 

It sounded like business. And since I was done with my task, I thought it was my cue to leave. I rose to my feet, situating the Death Penalty back in its holster but before I could even turn towards the door Reeve started gesturing at me, prompting me to pause mid-move. It appeared he wasn't quite done.

 

“I had heard but I didn't think it anything to worry about,” Reeve was saying into the phone before he covered the receiver with one palm and looked up at me. “Wait a minute, please. I have another assignment for you.”

 

My interest piqued, I tipped my head in his direction and promptly returned to my seat, settling easily into my chair. I made no attempt to hide the fact that I was listening to Reeve's conversation, the Turk in me still remembering that all information was good information, even if I didn't understand it at first. One never knew when it came into use.

 

“No, I don't think that's necessary,” Reeve was saying, his forehead furrowing either in annoyance or anger, I couldn't tell which. He tapped one finger on his desktop as he listened to the voice on the other end.

 

Obviously there was an argument or discussion of some type.

 

“Valentine is more than enough.”

 

There was a pause. My ears perked at this. My own name being mentioned was something that I took great interest in. What, exactly, did Reeve had planned for me? If it was another fetch mission I was going to be quite annoyed. I wasn't a delivery service. He should call Cloud if he wanted that.

 

Reeve snorted into the phone. “I trust Vincent with my life, which is more than I can say for any one of your Turks.”

 

My brow rose to my hairlines. Turks. He was probably talking to Rufus then. There was no one else that nearly defunct team served. Even with ShinRa little more than a conglomeration barely strung together, the Turks had not abandoned Rufus. That was some loyalty. Then again, that was what had always banded the Turks as a cohesive unit. Loyalty to one another first and foremost. Like a family almost.

 

“This is not a discussion,” Reeve stated curtly, his voice carrying heavy finality. “If I see a single ShinRa-issued Turk boot on the grounds, I'm sending them away.” Without so much as a goodbye, he promptly returned the phone to the cradle, somehow managing not to slam it down like I could tell he wanted to.

 

He sighed and glared at the phone before realizing that I was staring at him with an obvious question in my face. “Believe it or not, that was Rufus.”

 

I had already figured that out but it was nice to have the confirmation.

 

“I hadn't realized that you were so friendly,” I commented carefully, not wanting to admit I knew less about the situation considering I had been working with Reeve for a year and had no inkling of such a thing.

 

“We're not,” Reeve admitted as he rubbed his forehead, likely trying to quell a rising migraine. I recognized the motion well. “He's merely trying to protect his investment.”

 

His investment? I was confused. What would Rufus have to do with Reeve who had cut all ties with ShinRa? Then it hit me. Reeve wasn't growing gil trees in his backyard. The money had to be coming from somewhere. He had explained that it was multiple investors but I never even suspected that ShinRa itself would contribute.

 

“Rufus is the mysterious donor?” I demanded, barely able to hold back the stunned look from my face.

 

Reeve nodded, looking surprisingly weary. He worked himself too hard, I had noticed. Then again, he had no one to rush home to, so why would he bother with anything else.

 

“I suppose in some way he is attempting to make up for his family's mistakes.” Reeve paused, tilting his head to the side as he cut his eyes at the view from his window. “Or at least, he thinks he is.”

 

I snorted, disdain filling me to the core. “There isn't enough he could do,” I commented bitterly, recalling my own ills that had been caused by ShinRa.

 

“No, I don't believe there is,” Reeve agreed solemnly before sighing heavily. “In any case, it appears that the threats are coming in more frequently now. It has Rufus... concerned.”

 

“Threats?” This was news to me, especially since this was the kind of thing Reeve was supposed to be telling me. Then again, knowing him, he preferred to try to handle things on his own before asking for help.

 

He inclined his head. “Yes, someone or some group still has it out for ShinRa and by proxy, myself for some reason. Whether or not they are trying to draw Rufus out or they actually are after me, I cannot say.” He paused, lips pulling into a deep frown. “The fact remains that I can't watch my own back and I refuse to allow Reno or Rude to do it for me. They may be somewhat capable but they are loyal to Rufus, not I.”

 

I could see where the conversation was going but that didn't mean I was going to make it easier on the WRO President. Sometimes, it was amusing just to watch him squirm. “A wise decision.”

 

Reeve's even stare moved to me, a bemused smile removing the frown. “You're actually going to make me ask, aren't you?”

 

It was all I could do to hold back the smirk. “Ask what?” I questioned innocently, idly fiddling the safety of my gun, flicking it on and off.

 

He shook his head. “Your humor chooses the most aggravating moments to make an appearance,” he replied with a heavy sigh, though he didn't sound that aggravated. “Very well, are you up to the task?”

 

I holstered my weapon. “Of course.”

 

Reeve shot me an exasperated look. “Was that absolutely necessary?”

 

I shrugged, entirely nonchalant. “I was going to say yes. I'm tired of leveling materia. There are only so many times you can destroy the same monster before it gets monotonous.”

 

“Or perhaps you just miss my company,” he teased, amber eyes glinting.

 

I rolled my eyes at him. “Don't push your luck.”

 

I felt his gaze on me steadily for a moment, a weird feeling emanating from him before he cleared his throat and relaxed in his chair. “You won't have to be around every moment,” he began, diving into the details of the mission. “I'm sure I can rely on a thin guard at home and such. But in public events, whenever I'm in the public eye, I'll need you.”

 

I inclined my head. “Fair enough.”

 

He looked at the clock and then his paperwork, a pile that I swore never seemed to decrease. “Good then,” he said, taking in a deep breath and glancing down at his calender, a large pad taped to his desk. “Sunday the 24th. The fund raiser starts at eight but you'll probably want to be here sooner.” Reeve smirked. “Try to blend in.”

 

“In other words, get rid of my bright red cloak,” I countered with a raised brow.

 

He smiled. “In other words.”

 

Despite myself, I felt my own lips twitch in an attempt to form a smile. It was getting increasingly easier to relax my defenses around the WRO President. He was quickly becoming another Cid to me, a trustworthy confidante that didn't pry unnecessarily.

 

“You do own other attire?” Reeve added and for a moment, I received the faintest impression that he was flirting with me. Or maybe it had simply been too long since I had gotten laid. I couldn't be sure.

 

“Of course,” I responded, keeping my tone light.

 

I did own other clothing, I just didn't wear it. Why bother when it was probably going to get covered in blood or dust or monster guts? And it wasn't as if I had anywhere to go for that matter. All of my companions were used to seeing me in this outfit. It made things simpler. But Reeve was right. It was better to look as if he wasn't under intense guard. It might draw out whoever was threatening him and make it easier to catch them.

 

“Good.” He reached for some papers, idly reshuffling them on his desk and looking as if he wanted to say something further. I gave him a minute but instead of spitting it out, he frowned to himself and lifted his eyes back to me. “That's it then, I suppose. If anything else comes up, I'll call you.”

 

I had half a mind to ask him just what else was on his mind now, but I refrained. Obviously, he didn't feel like sharing and I had never been one to pry. No one came to me for their problems anyways. Who would want to ask the broody vampire advice about anything?

 

I rose to my feet. “Then I'll make sure to keep my phone charged.”

 

“Please do.”

 

I watched him another minute before finally turning and slipping through the web of chairs and tables that seemed to serve no other purpose than decoration in his office, I headed for the door.

 

“And Vincent?”

 

It figured he would choose to speak right before I put my hand on the knob. I shot him a glance over my shoulder.

 

He still had that look on his face, as if he wanted to say something. He seemed to be arguing with himself internally before he finally blurted out, “Be careful. R&D tells me that some of Hojo's monsters are spawning exponentially.”

 

He knew better than needing to tell me to be careful. I doubted there was anything out there strong enough to kill me. I inclined my head.

 

“I'll keep that in mind.”

 

And then I was out the door, knowing full well that wasn't what he had intended to say. I wondered what secret he was hiding from me. I assumed I would figure it out eventually. Despite his craftiness, Reeve wasn't too skilled at subterfuge. It would slip eventually.

 

All I had to do was wait.

<<September 24, 2000>>

 

I surreptitiously tugged at the collar of my shirt. I hated wearing suits, especially the current black one that was eerily similar to Turk attire. I had left behind my cloak and claw, needing to blend in rather than stand out. I brought with me four guns, though only one was visible to anyone who was looking for a weapon. It all reminded me once again why I hated these functions. I understood the necessity of the affair, but still despised them. Reeve's fundraiser for the WRO was an important part of my paycheck, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

 

I cast bored crimson eyes over the patrons who had found the time to wine and dine in their opulence, despite the state of half the world. It was always nice to see that the wealthy were doing so well for themselves. At least they were willing to part with a meager sum of their fortune to help in the rebuilding. They weren't completely useless.

 

More importantly, in my casual sweep, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of violence, no sign of someone who looked murderous or blasted a killing intent in Reeve's direction. Che, most of the attendants looked as if they would shriek at the mere sight of a naked blade or the flash of a gun.

 

I glanced at the clock and sighed under my breath. Only two more hours of this nonsense and I could return home, if the hotel room I had rented out for the evening counted as home. I supposed, considering that I was going to be living for a long time, I ought to invest in a house or at least someplace permanent.

 

I had been flitting from town to town, staying with Highwind some times, but mostly camping out or rooming in hotels for longer durations. There was no sense of permanence in me at the moment and I couldn't figure out why. Something within kept me roaming, as if I were searching for something I didn't even realize I was looking for.

 

Familiar laughter floated to my ears and I shifted my gaze back to Reeve who was surrounded by four to five men and woman, a glass of champagne in one hand and a charming grin on his face. This type of function was his element. Reeve truly knew how to play socialities, despite the fact that I knew he would rather be at home, perched in a chair and reading some book.

 

Per my orders, I kept a careful eye on Reeve and tried not to get bored to tears. Not but ten minutes later, right as the clock struck nine, an aide came up to Reeve and whispered in his ear. I recognized his face from the sheet of worker identities that Reeve had given me earlier so I relaxed and continued to observe.

 

The WRO President nodded and excused himself from his conversation, threading his way through the crowd to the stage. It was here that I was carefully positioned, standing just to the right of the podium and upon the dais. At an unknown cue, the band which had been playing a soothing yet mind-numbing classical ballad, ceased and the low murmur of conversation was the only noise to pierce the room. It, too, came to a halt as Reeve and said attendant approached the podium.

 

It was time for the speech.

 

I shifted position slightly, angling my body for a better panoramic view of the room and tried to tune out the words I had heard twice before. Reeve, for a reason beyond my understanding, worried himself to death about every speech he made and practiced consistently. I had heard, without intending, two such sessions and could recite about half of it myself.

 

The attendant listed Reeve's qualifications before introducing him with a round of applause from an audience. Another cue had the lights dimming and spot lights centered straight on Reeve, making it difficult to see out into the crowd. Instantly, my hackles rose and I straightened, body preparing for any thing which could be construed as dangerous. On the edge of my conscious, I heard Reeve clear his throat and start his speech with a joke before delving into his carefully crafted pleadings for funding.

 

Something was off though I couldn't place just what. I flickered my eyes to the other guards, most just grunt soldiers for the WRO. None of them seemed concerned, a few even exchanging quiet words and laughter in one corner. Feh, Reeve really needed to work on their discipline.

 

A sudden flash of something in the crowd caught my eye and I instantly locked on the item, but it was only the glint of light from the corner of a woman's eyeglasses. Curse the lighting. It was far too shading for my comfort. That feeling of unease began to grow, gurgling beneath the surface and making my hair stand on end.

 

I lifted my eyes to the balcony and that was when I saw them, two men in perfect triangulated positions almost hidden by the billowy curtains of the high balcony. It took only a second for me to register that they held long-range rifles and were already poised to fire. These were professionals, and whoever wanted Reeve dead, was taking no chances.

 

In a flash, I had drawn the Winchester, firing at one before diving at Reeve to the astonishment of every other person in the room. The sound of my gunshot was resoundingly loud, completely overpowering the silenced bullet from the second gunman.

 

I collided into Reeve with a loud oomph, the both of us crashing to the ground mere milliseconds before the other bullet zoomed over our heads. It slammed full force into the wall behind us, sending splintery cracks in all directions. It would have blown him apart if it hit him. This was far from a joke.

 

Time seemed to still before all of the sudden there was screaming and gunfire and the sound of people stampeding away in a mob of fear. I scrambled into a crouch, grabbing Reeve and pulling him against me into the safety behind the podium. Wood splintered above us, showering down, as he coughed from the rather rough tumble I had forced him into.

 

“What's going on?” he asked, looking up at me with worried eyes.

 

I shook my head. “Assassins as you feared, Tuesti. Nothing I can't handle.”

 

No sooner had the words left my mouth then I heard the sound of a missile, a missile, heading our direction. I had only a moment to grab Reeve's collar and throw him off to the side and leap after him before the podium shattered into bits. I landed on top of Reeve, protecting him and grunted when shards of wood exploded in all directions. A few struck me dead on, piercing the skin. They hurt like a bitch but it wasn't anything I couldn't live through.

 

I began to wonder if they were only after Reeve's life or if creating chaos was another aspect of the task they had been hired for.

 

I didn't even wait for the dust to clear before I grabbed Reeve and dragged him out of the harsh glare of the lights, raising my other hand which miraculously held the gun and quickly shooting out the large spot lights. A darkness fell in the large conference room, now dimly lit by only the emergency globes.

 

I pulled Reeve behind a small partition in the stage and shoved him behind me before leaning against the wall and peering out into where the audience had once been, trying to spot the assassins. There had to have been more than the two I had seen.

 

I could hear the other soldiers shouting as they tried to find the enemy and some gunfire in the distance. Suddenly, the wood splintered near my head and I returned fire blindly before ducking back behind the wall. I quickly popped open the Winchester, shaking out the few unexpended bullets and shoving in a brand new casing. With that finished, I groped for another gun, this time wanting something with a bit more firepower.

 

“Vincent, you're bleeding,” Reeve said, his voice lacking even the slightest hint of fear. Of course, he had faced down Sephiroth with us, though not in his own body. He had stood against ShinRa. Someone after his life wasn't anything new.

 

I frowned, having barely noticed the pain. I glanced down and saw that a good bit of wood was piercing my side. Without a second thought, I reached and yanked out the stick, tossing it to the side.

 

“It will heal,” I responded curtly, my thoughts already on trying to figure out how to get Reeve out alive and uninjured. A protect would only soften the attack, not completely prevent it. There was always the back entrance, but it was on the other side of the stage.

 

I inched to the edge of the wall and peered out again. My eyes could see nothing, despite the fact that I had much better sight in the darkness than most humans. I wondered if the assassins were prepared enough to bring night-vision goggles with them. I wondered who would want Reeve dead that badly. A flicker across my senses was all the warning I needed before I ducked back behind the wall, avoiding a spray of bullets.

 

They were stronger this time, meaning that the assassins were approaching. They had taken out the WRO grunts already. Professionals. If I didn't know better, I would say they were Turks, though Turks have a more dignified way of committing murder. Get in, get out, silent as a shadow. These were more like 'blow everything up in sight and the target at the same time so long as there is death in the end'.

 

I felt a tentative touch brush my side and turned with surprise to find Reeve's fingers brushing over the wound that was slowly sealing itself, though blood still seeped in a small rivulet from the deep injury. He looked up at me, his amber eyes dark as coal in the darkness of the back stage. He was bleeding too, I noticed. Something had nicked him across the forehead in a shallow cut that bled freely but was plenty survivable.

 

“If you weren't you, this would have killed you,” he said.

 

I frowned, my brow furrowing. Reeve was acting rather strangely. “I hardly see how that's relevant,” I responded shortly, wondering why all of the sudden, he was standing that close.

 

“I think perhaps that I am just a bit too much of a coward,” Reeve mumbled in return, dropping his hand from my side where it dangled at his own.

 

On the edge of my hearing, I detected footsteps approaching. Dammit, of all times for Reeve to go through self-enlightenment. Wasn't he the least bit concerned about his own life? Or those of us hired to protect it?

 

I sighed, lowering my voice so that I wouldn't give away my position. “Tuesti, save the wondering for later and be quiet,” I demanded with more than a hint of reproach.

 

“I think I've been quiet long enough,” he murmured and before I could even question that statement, he closed the strangely short distance between us and pressed his lips to mine, a somewhat clumsy and off-balance kiss.

 

Needless to say, I was shocked and surprised and any other word that explains how 'what the hell?' I was feeling. The kiss was uncertain and desperate, one of his hands gripping at my cloak with an urgency that practically radiated from his body. Perhaps I hadn't imagined that earlier flirting after all.

 

I wanted to question him on it then and there but the situation was against me. I had enough time to pull away from the softness of his mouth before I was ducking out from behind the wall and aiming both of my guns, firing with deadly accuracy. I detected the sound of a shout of pain and one body crumpling. I was already rolling to my feet, aiming again for the others I knew were out there.

 

Somewhere a bullet whizzed by my head, shearing off a lock of hair. I fired back in its general trajectory and struck something, hearing the sound of blood splattering wetly to the ground.

“Bastard,” came the low growl of anger.

 

My eyes scanned the dark, looking for more forms. I heard shouting in the distance, the noise of fists beating on closed and/or locked doors. Reinforcements had arrived. Something cracked in the darkness, likely a person stepping on a broken piece of wood. It could only be foe, or so my instincts told me. I fired another round in that direction and was awarded with a choked off cry of pain.

 

Pfft. Amateurs.

 

There was a buzz and a hum and then light flooded the entire room, nearly blinding me. I blinked stupidly in the brightness, squinting as I tried to scan the entire area in a millisecond. Luckily, I was the only one I could see still standing, no other enemies in sight ready to take me down. Or Reeve for that matter.

 

A crash and a roar two seconds later and soldiers came pouring in from the lobby, armed and ready for an action that had already passed.

 

I sighed and rose to my feet, returning both guns to their holsters, one at the hip and the other at my back. I also had a smaller handgun tucked into one boot and a fourth gun at my side. I counted somewhere around a dozen bodies strewn across the floor, only ten of them wearing the WRO uniform. Which meant some of the assassins had been in disguise.

 

Lovely.

 

A disgusted sound escaped my throat before I could stop it and I turned to see to Reeve who was already peering out from behind the wall. His eyes hardened at all of the corpses he saw strewn around but he quickly regained his sense of dignity and stood straight. I gave him a motion to let him know it was safe and he quickly moved to my side, staring everywhere but at me.

 

“Tuesti, sir!” One of the soldiers approached with a tight salute. “It appears there were five of them, two within our own ranks.”

 

Reeve nodded in understanding as another approached, already reaching for the wound on his forehead. “And the guests?”

 

“None were injured.”

 

“Is there any clue as to who sent the assassins?”

 

The first soldier shook his head. “No, sir. We'll continue clean up and search for clues.”

 

“You do that.” I watched as he turned to the other soldier, who I belatedly realized was actually a woman and took the small cloth bandage from her hand. “Thank you, Private. I can handle it from here.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Both WRO guards saluted and walked away, leaving he and I alone. With the preliminaries taken care of, I shot Reeve a look letting him know that I had some questions. One did not get kissed in the middle of a life or death situation without wondering why it happened in the first place. He flushed but nodded in understanding.

 

“Follow me,” he said, moving to the side of the stage and stepping down the small three-step stairs. “There's a smaller conference room over here.”

 

Another WRO operative approached him but he simply held up a hand. “In a moment, soldier. Make sure that there is a full sweep of the area and I'll tend to the guests shortly.” His eyes flickered to mine as he stopped at a door, pushing it open and gesturing within. “In here, Vincent.”

 

I barely heard the guard give a reply or notice his salute as I slipped inside, flicking on the light switch as I did so. To my relief, it was a relatively small room, large enough for only a round table and six chairs as well as a podium, projector, and screen. It appeared to be in disuse for quite some time. If I wasn't mistaken, the calendar declared 1985.

 

The door behind me clicked shut and I turned to face Reeve who was staring determinedly down at the horrid pale-yellow carpet. “I suppose you would like an explanation?”

 

“That would be nice,” I responded, watching him carefully.

 

One hand pressed the cloth to the wound on his forehead which was slowly beginning to clot. He sighed. “I'm sorry.”

 

I didn't buy that for one minute. If he was sorry, he wouldn't have bothered doing it in the first place. “No, you're not.”

 

“Well, I am if it means that I lose a friendship that is very important to me.” He conceded my point with a nod of his head and looked up, only to set his gaze somewhere past my left shoulder. “I don't even know if...” he trailed off, at a loss for how to express himself.

 

I knew what he was trying to say. “... if I'm a homosexual?” I finished for him, a trace of humor finding its way into my tone.

 

Surprisingly, a flush of red flitted across Reeve's cheeks but he managed to keep his composure as he finally dragged his eyes to mine. “Yes, that.”

 

Considering his roundabout way of approaching things, I wasn't answering anything until I received some answers myself. “Are you?” I countered.

 

He coughed slightly and abruptly cleared his throat. “I don't really know.” Reeve paused, shifting somewhat where he stood just in front of the door. “But I do know that I am tired of empty nights and cold beds.”

 

It made me think that I had been anyone else, the outcome would have been the same. Reeve was lonely and I was the nearest person. It wasn't ideal but what was in this world? And maybe, in a way, I felt some of that same loneliness. Sometimes the silence was too loud, and the bed too cold no matter what blankets were wrapped or what fire raged. When all I could hear was the beat of my own heart or the crickets outside my tent, I really felt that emptiness. I imagined the ticking of the clock or the whirring of the street lamp was much the same feeling for him.

 

“I apologize if I was out of line,” Reeve kept saying, drawing back my attention. But I was hardly listening to him.

 

I stepped nearer as he shifted his eyes back to the floor, Turk quiet so that he couldn't hear my approach. Reeve fell silent.

 

“Tuesti.”

 

He lifted his head and that was when I kissed him, pressing my lips gently against his. Reeve froze in shock, his body visibly stiffening. I lifted my hand, resting it on the back of his neck and cupping his face as I deepened the kiss. I took advantage of his gasp of surprise to slide my tongue into his mouth, tasting champagne and the grapes he had been snacking on before the speech.

 

I was testing him, wanting to see if he was truly serious about this, about being with other men. I had to know if it was something that actually aroused him or if he was just desperate. And I admit that there was a part of me that wanted a better taste than the brief kiss he had stolen from me earlier. Even if nothing further came from it.

 

It didn't take Reeve long to overcome his shock and he gradually began to respond to the kiss, tentative then growing in determination. It was often different, two men kissing. There's a sense of wills, a battle of dominance. A man used to only kissing women would be used to the taking, and when faced with the give and take, the sometimes subservience of kissing another man, oftentimes it was shocking. He seemed to be doing just fine.

 

From the corner of my eyes, I noticed one of his hands twitch. He lifted it as if to touch me, then promptly dropped it again, clenching his fingers into fists. It was obvious he'd never even kissed a man before.

 

My curiosity was satisfied. I broke off the kiss with a parting yet gentle nip to his bottom lip. I looked at him, his eyes slightly wide and glazed as he panted faintly.

 

“This is what you want?” I asked him, wanting verbal confirmation now as I curled my fingers slightly in the shorter strands of hair at the base of his neck. I felt him shiver at the touch, unconsciously leaning into my hand.

 

Instead of verbally responding, Reeve kissed me again, rising up a little to meet my greater height. He was more aggressive this time, sliding his tongue along mine and fighting to get some control of his own. A little moan resounded in his throat, something hungry and wanting.

 

It was all the answer I needed.

 

I didn't know how further he would have taken it then, nor did I get the chance to find out. His phone rang loudly, disturbing the silence and I broke off the kiss to glare at his pocket. Reeve looked just as annoyed as he dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out the PHS, flipping it open curtly.

 

“Tuesti, here.” He paused, waiting for the other to speak. “I am perfectly fine, Rufus,” he answered through gritted teeth. Reeve rubbed a hand over his forehead, giving me an exasperated look that I understood perfectly.

 

He turned away to carry his conversation in private. I attempted not to listen which wasn't hard since I wasn't interested in the slightest. But after ten minutes, my patience was beginning to wane. The talk dragged on and I decided it was time for me to leave.

 

There was still the clean-up to consider and had any of the assassins survived, I wanted to question them. Not to mention I was certain I could find clues that the under trained guards could not. I still had a job to do after all. I turned and he must have heard me because he whirled back around, covering the mouthpiece.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

I could plainly hear Rufus' voice though I couldn't make out the words. “Do you need me for anything else?” I asked and cocked a brow.

 

He looked confused for a second, which was actually rather cute. “Hold on a second, Rufus,” Reeve snapped into the phone and returned his attention to me. “You're not leaving are you?”

 

“If you mean the WRO then no, if you mean the room, then yes,” I replied, my humor returning. I knew what he was trying to say and I couldn't help but smirk. “Don't worry, Tuesti. I'm fully interested in continuing this... liaison.”

 

He colored slightly and I curled my lips in faint bemusement. Imagine, a man his age embarrassed. It was quite amusing.

 

Reeve watched for all of a moment before he smiled slightly, still pointedly ignoring the voice on the phone. “I would hope that you would call me Reeve now.”

 

I inclined my head. “Perhaps,” I agreed before turning on my heels and leaving, half-wishing that I had my cloak to swirl dramatically. I was itching to change out of my outfit, unwilling to linger anymore in Turk memories.

 

Behind me, Reeve returned to his conversation with the president of the nearly defunct ShinRa.

 

All in all, it hadn't been a bad day and certainly not as terrible as I had imagined. Thoughts of peeling away Reeve's business suits began to fill my mind. For such an executive, he kept in perfect shape, the prime of his life. While the stress certainly was a factor, he was fit. And best of all, I could appreciate his intelligence.

 

Yes, this was a relationship I was interested in pursuing. I couldn't help but wonder when the next time I could get him alone would be before I promptly shook my head, clearing away unnecessary lecherous thoughts.

 

There were assassins to question and their bosses to find. I had work to do. But that didn't mean I couldn't think about it later.

 

****