Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Guardian ❯ Chapter 12

“Guardian”

Chapter 12

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*Disclaimer: The world that this story is set in and all characters therein belong to Square-Enix. This fiction piece is strictly a non-profit exercise of creativity and entertainment for people (like me) who can't get enough of this world and the characters.*

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Rufus wasn't surprised in the least to find himself waking up in what appeared to be a warehouse. His wrists were tightly cuffed together behind his back and he was seated in a ratty armchair, just under a naked, hanging lightbulb.

 

“Typical,” he muttered.

 

“What's that?”

 

Rufus blinked his eyes into focus and peered in the direction the voice came from. A powerfully built man stood a few feet away near a door, checking his pistol. His hair was dark brown and cropped short and he wore a muscle shirt and a pair of jeans. His features were hard and chiseled and everything about him said “thug”.

 

“I said `typical',” Rufus answered calmly. “Your lack of originality bores me.”

 

“Kinda cocky for a man in your position,” the kidnapper shrugged. “We snatched you out of a public bathroom…how's that for `original'?”

 

Rufus returned the shrug as best he could in his restrained position. “At least you didn't catch me with my pants down.”

 

The kidnapper grinned sharply. “The rich guy's a comedian.”

 

“One must maintain a sense of humor in these situations,” Rufus agreed lightly. He still felt nauseous but he attributed that to the blows he'd received to the back of his head. The drugs seemed to have worn off. He took in his surroundings covertly, maintaining his calm. He had faith that his Turks would get him out of this, but that didn't mean that he couldn't make his own efforts to expedite his escape.

 

“I assume you intend to get some sort of ransom for me,” Rufus inquired conversationally. There was a television, a crate serving as a coffee table and some more ratty furniture against the wall at the other end of the warehouse. He could see that there were people seated there but he couldn't tell how many there were, since the furniture was facing away from him.

 

“If you don't give us any trouble,” the guarding kidnapper agreed. “'Course, if your people don't cooperate, we're gonna have to start sending body parts to show `em we mean business.”

 

“Crude,” Rufus criticized. “Not to mention unsanitary and cliché. You do realize of course that you'll be dealing with the Turks?”

 

“So?”

 

Rufus smiled coldly, his eyes glinting. “If you know that, then surely you know that for each body part you remove from me, they'll remove one of yours when they find you—and they WILL find you—they always do.”

 

That struck a nerve. “They won't find us before we carve you up, pal.”

 

Rufus continued, non-intimidated. “Just last year, a junkie stole one of my guns. Do you want to know what one of my people did to him when he found him?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“He tortured him for a while, of course.” Rufus shrugged. “He beat him until there was blood running into his eyes, then he burned him with his cigarette. When he finished doing that, he dug his eyes out with a spoon from his own kitchen.” Rufus was fabricating the part about the spoon but he remembered Reno saying he'd threatened to do it, so he ran with it. The thug was going pale as he spoke. “He finally shot him and put him out of his misery, but he suffered plenty before he was finished.”

 

The kidnapper swallowed just hard enough for Rufus to catch the motion and the president fixed him with a chill, level stare. “That was over my gun…just one piece of my property. Imagine what reward you'll face for kidnapping me.”

 

“I said shut UP!”

 

Rufus braced himself as his captor lunged across the distance and raised his gun like a club. He couldn't dodge the blow but the pain of being pistol-whipped across the face was nothing compared to the satisfaction he felt for having shaken the man. His head jerked to the side with the blow and his vision blurred, but he saw two other figures stand up from their seats at the furniture at the end of the room and approach. He slowly righted himself and stared at the fuming thug, ignoring the blood the trickled from his mouth over his chin.

 

“Hey, take it easy,” one of the other kidnappers said as he charged across the room and tried to restrain the provoked one. “You can't go tearing him up before we've even finished making arrangements!” He had long, dark blonde hair that was tied into a ponytail. His build was somewhat lanky and Rufus grimaced at how he reminded him a bit of Reno.

 

“That part only happens if they don't cooperate,” the other kidnapper added with a grim look at Rufus. This one had shoulder-length, dark brown hair and his features were similar to the bigger one's. Rufus suspected they were related by blood.

 

“Cute cocksucker could wind up dead if he keeps fucking with me,” the big man growled.

 

“By all means, make your suicide complete,” Rufus invited calmly.

 

“Gag him,” the smaller dark-haired one ordered.

 

Rufus knew that he'd pushed enough buttons for now, so he put up only a minimal fight when the blonde fit a gag into his mouth and tied it firmly behind his head. He was the weakest link, insofar as nerve went. The President could tell by the nervous look in his hazel eyes that he wasn't as sure about this as his partners. He could use that to his advantage, as well as the big one's temper.

 

~*************************************~

 

“This is Reeve Tuesti.”

 

“Reeve, it's Cloud.”

 

“Oh, Cloud! How are things? I've been in touch with Reno's doctor and he's given him a pretty good prognosis.” Reeve's cultured voice sounded friendly and pleased to hear from him.

 

“Reno's doing okay, all things considered,” Cloud answered, “but we've got other problems. I'm surprised you haven't heard yet—Rufus was kidnapped.”

 

Silence. Then: “No, I haven't heard that…I've been out all day. When did this happen?”

 

“Today, actually. ShinRa's working on it but they think these guys were plotting this for a while and they probably have information on most of the Turks. They're asking for a half a billion in ransom.”

 

“HALF A BILLION!” Reeve exploded. He immediately calmed himself. “I suppose to some people, President Shinra's life could be worth that much. That's all I intend to say about that.”

 

Cloud chuckled in spite of himself. “Yeah, but I get the feeling they wouldn't be demanding that much if they didn't think the company could swing it.”

 

“Hmm. I leave the office for a few hours and look at what you people get up to.” Reeve sighed. “I suppose these kidnappers are prepared for a rescue attempt.”

 

“Yeah…at least, they say they are. The standard rules apply and if they recognize any backup or authorities, Rufus is a goner.” Cloud forced himself not to launch directly into his suggestion, knowing how sharp Reeve was and hoping he would come to the same conclusion as him. “I thought I might try to go in but if they know all the Turks, they probably know I've been involved with them because of Reno.”

 

“Unless they're bluffing,” Reeve suggested.

 

“But we don't know how much is a bluff and how much isn't,” Cloud reminded him.

 

“True. And you have no idea where they might be holding him?”

 

Cloud shook his head. “Not yet. They're supposed to call us in the morning to set up an exchange.”

 

Reeve went silent again for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone was thoughtful. “If these people have any wits at all, they'll keep Rufus in a separate location from where they want to make the money exchange. I imagine they'll give the location once they have their ransom.”

 

Cloud swore softly. He hadn't even considered that. “Well, shit. That's going to make it hard to get him without giving over the money first.”

 

“There's still time,” Reeve soothed. “I can be there in a couple of hours and my people can help in the search. Were there any witnesses?”

 

Cloud sighed. “Tseng would probably know the car if he saw it but they took off the license plate after they grabbed Rufus. He marked it, though. He shot out the back window and a mirror, so if we can find that car we can probably find Rufus. I don't know where to even start looking, though.”

 

“That's what satellite relay is for,” Reeve said dryly. “They could only have gotten so far before they settled somewhere. What we need to do is scan all of the areas in a broad range area to narrow it down. It wouldn't hurt to investigate autoshop records within that radius as well, to see if a vehicle matching that description was brought in for repairs matching the damages Tseng caused.”

 

Cloud's lips rounded and he whistled silently. “We should have gotten you on this from the beginning, man.”

 

“You're making me blush,” Reeve chuckled. “Oh, hold on a moment, Cloud. I just have to make some quick arrangements before I head to my car.”

 

Cloud heard his friend talking to someone in the background, ordering a team to go to Junon with him under classified restrictions. A moment later, Reeve spoke to him again. “I'm heading to my car now. With any luck, we can find these people before real money has to be spent or Rufus gets hurt. What's the plan on that, by the way? Obviously you can't send in a strike team without risking the President, and if they know the Turks as you suggested, it throws another wrench in the works.”

 

“I know,” Cloud said. “We need subtlety, either to nab one of the kidnappers during the exchange or to get close to where Rufus is without attracting too much attention. Someone skilled.”

 

“And you can't do that, if they're aware you've been spending time with the Turks,” Reeve remembered. “Well, I could bring a small helper to scout…”

 

“They'd probably know about Cait Sith,” Cloud said hastily. “I mean, you're almost famous for him and they know you work with ShinRa.”

 

“But they don't know about Monkey Shines,” Reeve said.

 

Cloud's brows furrowed. “Uh…'Monkey Shines'?” He repeated, dumbfounded.

 

“Mmm-hmm. As you said; Cait Sith is rather high profile now, so I've made a new prototype.”

 

Cloud blinked. “So…what…you've gone from a fortune-telling cat to a…a…”

 

“A dancing monkey,” Reeve finished for him. “It's perfect…we just have to hire someone to play the crank.”

 

Cloud bit back a hysterical giggle and coughed. “That's…that's great Reeve, but it's not exactly the sort of help I had in mind. I was thinking more along the lines of someone that could infiltrate and do some real damage, if it comes to that.”

 

Reeve sighed. “You want me to ask Vincent.” It wasn't a question.

 

Cloud did his best to pretend ignorance and surprise. “Vincent? That's not a bad idea. I didn't even think of—”

 

“Oh, stop,” Reeve said in a fondly exasperated tone. “You're a terrible actor, Cloud. You've been leading up to it through the entire conversation.”

 

Cloud shrugged boyishly and lowered his eyes. Reeve probably would have chuckled at his action if he could see him. “Well, he's got the skills we'd need and then some. They wouldn't recognize him, either.”

 

“How can you be so sure?” Reeve questioned, “If they know who all of the Turks are, they likely know about him as well.”

 

“They know all the current Turks,” Cloud corrected. “These guys did their homework for what they had planned, but I'm sure they didn't dig that far back. Even if they happened to get their hands on any old records—which I doubt—they'd never believe Vincent's the same guy in the files and even if they figured it out, imagine how fast they'd be changing their underwear.”

 

“I suppose seeing a red-eyed `ghost' from the past would soil a few boxers, yes,” Reeve agreed dryly. He sighed again. “I'll see what I can do. Vincent's been reclusive since Deepground, though. I may not be able to reach him.”

 

“How long has it been since you talked?” Cloud asked carefully, trying not to hint about his suspicions concerning their relationship.

 

“Months…which I suppose is better than everyone else but still, he may be reluctant.” There was a very subtle hint of longing in the older man's voice that Cloud couldn't help but pick up on.

 

“Just see what you can do,” the blonde requested. “Of all of us, he respects you the most.” That was the simple truth and he was confident that it didn't breach any social etiquette.

 

“I suppose so,” Reeve said softly. “I'll contact you if I have any luck. I'll try to get in touch with him on my way there.”

 

“Thanks, Reeve.”

 

~************************************~

 

After hanging up with Cloud, Reeve took a deep breath and searched through his cellphone directory. He got into his car and buckled up as he dialed the number. He almost laughed at himself at that moment, realizing that the safety belt was as much for emotional fortitude as for physical protection. He started the engine and it purred softly as he listened to the other line ring.

 

“Come on, Vincent,” Reeve murmured as he put his car into gear and began to pull out of the parking garage, “I've left you alone to rest for months now. Wake up, you freaking mummy.”

 

He knew that Vincent's phone was charged because the dark gunman always left it plugged in, and Reeve himself paid for the credit so that it wouldn't get disconnected while Vincent slept. His heart hammered so hard he thought it would fly out of his chest when someone picked up on the other line. For a moment, there was no verbal response, then Vincent's deep, velvety voice spoke.

 

“Hello, Reeve.”

 

The WRO Director swallowed hard, unprepared as always for the affect that voice had on him. “Good morning, Sunshine. It's another beautiful day in the crypt, I take it?”

 

“Your cheerful sarcasm is as annoying as ever,” Vincent responded, but Reeve could hear a smile in his voice.

 

“I'm just trying to be polite,” said Reeve lightly, “I know how grumpy you can get when you've overslept.”

 

Vincent sighed deeply and slowly, his breath whispering over the mouthpiece and making Reeve shiver involuntarily. “What day is it?”

 

“It's Tuesti.” Reeve winced as soon as he made the pun and he was glad the gunman couldn't see him flush with embarrassment.

 

“Your humor is as moldy as my tapestries,” Vincent yawned.

 

Reeve laughed heartily at that. It didn't happen often, but every once in a while Vincent burst out with some funny cracks, entirely by accident. “So I'm a bit rusty. Like the nails in your coffin.”

 

“That's an improvement,” Vincent replied, sounding a bit more awake. “How long has it been, Reeve?”

 

“I'm not sure…months.” That was a lie. It had been seven months, two weeks and three days. Reeve couldn't help but count.

 

“Mmm, that long? To what do I owe the pleasure?” Vincent's voice was caressing, though it probably wasn't a conscious effort on his part.

 

“I wish this was a pleasure call, but I'm afraid it's business,” Reeve said. It always seemed to take him a few minutes to gather his wits and calm down when he spoke to Vincent. “There's been some trouble and I'm calling to request your help.”

 

“What sort of trouble?” Vincent wanted to know.

 

“Rufus Shinra's been kidnapped and if any of his people try to rescue him, they'll be recognized. I'm on my way to Headquarters now and Cloud is there waiting.” He said it quickly, almost ashamed to be asking his friend to participate. Vincent had earned his rest and he hated to call him out of the blue like this just to beg favors of him.

 

“Why should I care what happens to Rufus Shinra?” Vincent inquired softly.

 

“Because it was his funding that made a lot of things possible in our fight against Deepground and Omega,” Reeve answered readily, “and it's his funding now that's allowing us to repair damages from everything that's happened over the years, cure sick people and preserve the environment. He may be a bastard but he's a rich one and he's doing something decent with his money. Are those good enough reasons?”

 

“That was quite a speech,” Vincent replied with another sigh.

 

“It would also be a favor…to me,” Reeve added softly, swallowing.

 

“That's blackmail,” the gunman responded with a touch of annoyance in his voice.

 

Reeve smiled, pleased in spite of himself that Vincent would do it simply because he asked. “It's important,” he insisted. “Can we count on you?”

 

“If you'll arrange the transportation, I'll come,” Vincent answered.

 

“Excellent. I really appreciate it, Vincent.” Reeve wanted to say more but he didn't know what to add. He never did. “I'll see you in Junon.” He settled for that and hung up the phone to make another call and arrange for a chopper to pick Vincent up in Nibelheim. When that was finished, he turned on the radio to take his mind off of the heart-pounding, dry-mouthed conversation he'd had with the gunman.

 

“What are you, thirteen?” he growled at himself. He suffered no delusions; he knew exactly what caused the symptoms. He just hadn't had any of them this bad since he hit puberty. Vincent was out of his league and probably off-limits to any man, if his love for Lucrecia was any indication. He'd known this for some time, now.

 

~So why the hell haven't I gotten over it, yet?~

 

With a heavy sigh, he picked up his cell once again to call Cloud back and let him know that Vincent was on his way to help, too.

 

~************************************~

 

Reeve arrived at the ShinRa headquarters just before his team. He exchanged greetings with Cloud and the Turks and looked over the information they had so far. As soon as his team made it in, he sent them to work with the company employees already on the case and had them concentrate on searching the ground through satellite and checking the records of all surrounding auto shops and junkyards.

 

“Vincent should be arriving within the hour,” Reeve explained to Cloud and the others as they had coffee and discussed the situation.

 

“Oh, so he's the friend you were talking about,” Reno said to Cloud, and he looked at Reeve appraisingly through his shades.

 

“Pardon me?” Reeve asked.

 

“I told them I knew someone that might have an easier time convincing him to help than me,” Cloud explained, shooting Reno an annoyed look.

 

“I see,” Reeve said. He knew it was no secret that he and Vincent had grown close during the Omega incident so he thought nothing of it…at least, not at first. Reno seemed on edge and he was given to exaggeration in his best moments.

 

“Our plan is to try and locate where the kidnappers are holding the President first,” Tseng explained. “If we succeed, we'll attempt to send some people in without rousing their attention but Vincent's role will be crucial as the main antagonist. Do you think he'll agree to this, Reeve?”

 

The Director nodded and sipped his coffee. “He has a surprising wild streak when he's ready for action. It takes a lot to intimidate him.”

 

Cloud glanced at Reno uncomfortably, expecting him to take that line and roll with it. The redhead had an uncanny knack for spotting heat between two people, even if the two people in question denied it themselves. When Reno failed to react, Cloud realized how preoccupied he really was.

 

“What's the plan if we don't find the location before they make their demands in the morning?” Reeve asked, distracting Cloud from his study of Reno.

 

“Then we'll attempt a bit of subterfuge and pretend to go along with it,” Tseng answered readily, “at least for long enough to find out where they're holding him. Once the President is safe, we'll pursue them.”

 

“Yo, what if they decide to save themselves some trouble and just kill him once they get the money?” Reno asked on sudden, horrified inspiration.

 

“We aren't agreeing to an exchange of the money until we have the President safely in our custody,” Tseng answered firmly. “There are no guarantees, Reno. There's going to be risk to his safety no matter what path we choose.”

 

Reno swallowed and nodded, his lips thinning to a grim line. “So where does Vinnie come in if we use the second plan?”

 

“Much the same,” Tseng answered, “We'll get him to the location and he'll make his way in to back up the drop-off person.”

 

“We haven't decided who that's going to be, yet,” Cloud reminded.

 

Tseng considered him. “You.”

 

Cloud blinked and Reno started to protest, but changed his mind. “If shit goes down, I can't think of anyone else here that could get to Rufus faster,” the redhead agreed. “I still wanna be part of it, though.”

 

Tseng thought about that and studied the redhead. While he was still upset, Reno didn't seem to be in such a reckless mood anymore. “Perhaps you should do what you do best.”

 

Reno raised his eyebrows at him.

 

“Not that,” Tseng said hastily, his lips twitching briefly. “I meant have your helicopter on standbye. You and Rude can be ready to do an airstrike if it's needed.”

 

“A chopper's going to be kind of…conspicuous,” Rude said, “especially one flying around with the ShinRa logo on it.”

 

“Not if it's kept in a transport unit until it's needed,” Tseng answered. “We'll just have to be careful not to have it sitting too close to the rendezvous point.”

 

“Good thinking,” Reno said enthusiastically. “I like that plan, boss.”

 

“I'm a little concerned about sending Cloud in as the liaison,” said Reeve. “He's got a rather extensive reputation as the world's savior, you know. If the kidnappers know who he is, they'll know what he's capable of and they might suspect a trap.”

 

“Or they could be really flattered that he's making the exchange,” Reno said. “I mean, everyone knows ShinRa doesn't spare expense when it comes to class, am I right?”

 

Reeve nodded thoughtfully. “That's not a bad point either. My next concern is; how are we going to get Vincent to the same place at the same time? They may not recognize him but it could make them suspicious if he's seen loitering around either of the areas.”

 

Reno looked at Cloud and he remembered something. “Hey Cloud…remember the limousine ride?”

 

The blonde ogled him. “Now's really not the time to talk about that,” he hissed.

 

Reno blinked before he realized what part of the ride Cloud was thinking of. He chuckled and shook his head. “That ain't what I meant. I'm talking about the chauffeur, man.”

 

“Uh…he's the one we're trying to rescue,” Cloud said as he flushed.

 

Reno groaned softly. Here he was trying to speak in code to save the blonde from embarrassment and Cloud was playing the air-head card on him! “No, nitwit! I'm talking about the suit! We can dress Vinnie up like a chauffeur and he can drive you there!”

 

“Now that's a good idea,” Reeve said in an impressed tone. “Only, please don't call him `Vinnie' to his face. Yuffie just barely gets away with it and I don't imagine he feels he knows you well enough to take such liberties.”

 

“Probably good advice, man,” Reno agreed, remembering snatches of his brief encounters with the gunman in the past.

 

Cloud realized for the first time that Reno seemed to have no trouble remembering Vincent at all. “I never realized you remembered him, until this happened.”

 

“He ain't exactly an easy person to forget,” Reno said dryly. “Someone that can change into different demons kind of sticks in your memory, yo.”

 

~****************************************~

 

Reeve wasn't aware that Vincent had arrived until he heard the gunman's voice speak up behind him in the break room.

 

“What's the situation?”

 

Reeve nearly fell out of his chair, he jumped to his feet and turned so abruptly. Vincent was standing by the door next to Cloud and the blonde was explaining everything to him. Crimson eyes met brown over the short distance and a flicker of silent warmth passed between the two men. Vincent kept his eyes on Reeve for a moment before turning his full attention back to Cloud.

 

“You want me to dress up like a Chauffeur?” Vincent asked when Cloud finished. His raven brows knitted together beneath his red bandanna.

 

“Well no offense Vincent, but you stick out like a sore thumb,” Reeve said with a crooked smile as he approached. “If you show up in your regular attire they're bound to suspect something.”

 

Vincent glanced down at his leather body armor and red cape. “I'm most comfortable in this.”

 

“I know,” Cloud said hastily, “but they'll know something's up the minute they spot you in that. What if you wore the uniform over your regular clothes?”

 

“Then I'd hardly be able to move,” Vincent predicted. “I can't be much good to you if I'm hampered by several layers of clothing.”

 

Cloud sighed. “Okay, so can't you just change into the driver uniform until this is over?”

 

“I could, but I warn you if I change forms, the suit will be destroyed. My body armor is designed to adapt and regular clothing isn't.”

 

“The cost of a uniform is inconsequential,” Tseng said respectfully. “Considering that the kidnappers are asking for a half a billion gil for the President's return, it's a small price to pay.”

 

Vincent pursed his lips and nodded. “Very well. With luck, I won't need to shapeshift.”

 

Reeve knew exactly why Vincent was so reluctant. Regular clothes would be ripped to shreds if he shapechanged and when he reverted back to his natural form, he'd be practically naked as a result. The man did have his modesty, after all. Their eyes met again and Reeve nodded at him encouragingly.

 

~My friend, I highly doubt that anyone would be offended by your nudity.~

 

He kept the thought to himself and did his best to keep his expression neutral. “We'll have a robe put in the limo for you.”

 

~***************************************~

 

Sometime after two o'clock in the morning, Reeve was the only one still awake, besides Vincent. Reno and Cloud had gone to his office to get some rest and Tseng and Rude had done the same. Reeve had a keycard to private sleeping quarters in the building but he couldn't bring himself to make use of it yet. It was foolish and selfish, but he wanted to spend more time with Vincent. He didn't know how long it would be before he got the chance to sit and talk with him again, so he kept drinking coffee and holding off his exhaustion.

 

“You really should consider redecorating that mansion you're living in,” Reeve said as he poured some cream in his coffee.

 

Vincent smiled faintly at him from his seat at the table. “I only use the one room.”

 

Reeve shrugged and sat down, gingerly sipping at his hot drink. “What if you have house guests visiting sometime? Say…an old friend, perhaps?” He raised his eyebrows at the gunman meaningfully.

 

A rare, soft laugh escaped the pale throat. “I'll consider it.”

 

It was a familiar conversation between the two of them, one that neither of them grew tired of. The trade of banter and teasing was comforting. Reeve fought another yawn and Vincent frowned softly at him.

 

“You're tired,” the gunman observed.

 

Reeve shrugged. “It's a bit past my bedtime, yes. I just want to wait a while longer, in case they find anything.” It was a blatant lie. There was no need for him to stay awake but he wasn't about to tell Vincent how much he'd missed his companionship.

 

“If they find anything, we'll wake you,” Vincent said. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for all. You should find rest while you can.”

 

“What about you?” Reeve asked. “You aren't…tired?” The last was said around a yawn.

 

Vincent smiled crookedly. “I believe I've had enough rest, for now. I've only been awake for a few hours, after all.”

 

“Right,” Reeve remembered. “Hmm, just a little while longer. Come to the lounge with me? We can find something to watch on the television.”

 

Vincent shrugged smoothly and stood up. Reeve did the same and the two of them made their way to the elevator to go down to the second floor lounge. Reeve watched his companion from the corner of his eye as they got into the elevator and selected the floor. Vincent's ageless, marble features were relaxed and as beautiful to him as always. He wondered if his friend ever looked in the mirror and if so, if he ever saw what other people saw.

 

~Not likely,~ He thought, ~Vincent's seen himself as a monster for as long as I've known him.~

 

The elevator dinged as they reached their floor and the doors opened. In silent companionship, the two of them walked to the lounge area, which was thankfully deserted. Reeve sank onto one of the leather lounges lining the wall with a sigh and picked up the remote attached to the coffee table by a security chain. He flipped through the channels until he found a re-broadcast of the nightly news while Vincent sat down beside him.

 

“Is Cloud happy?” Vincent asked suddenly, softly.

 

Reeve nodded, having grown used to his friend's abrupt and spontaneous questions. “I think so.”

 

“Good. Are you happy?” Vincent turned in the seat to study him with hooded ruby eyes.

 

Reeve hesitated, sensing a hidden question within the question. He was sure that Vincent was referring to Cloud's relationship with Reno when he'd asked if he was happy, and unless he was mistaken, he was covertly asking if Reeve was with someone as well.

 

“I'm alone, but fairly happy.” Reeve answered carefully. “You?”

 

Vincent smirked. “Alone and much the same as always.”

 

Reeve nodded, having expected something of the sort.

 

~I wonder if you'll ever truly be happy again, Vincent…or if you ever were.~

 

There was nothing that he could do for him, save being his friend as always. He knew that the gunman took comfort in that, even if he rarely said so. Reeve was, after all, one of the few people that could bring a genuine smile to Vincent's face and he took pride in that. The WRO director tried to keep his eyes open but they eventually drifted shut and his head fell back against the cushions of the lounge. After a while, Vincent knew he was asleep and the gunman carefully took his half-finished cup of coffee out of his slackening grip and set it on the coffee table. He looked around for a throw or a blanket to cover his companion with but there were none in the lounge, so instead he unfastened his cloak and tucked it around Reeve to keep him warm.

 

With that done, Vincent took his seat beside him again and silently watched the TV, content to be near Reeve even though he was sleeping.

 

“Rest well, friend,” Vincent murmured when Reeve shifted into a more comfortable position in his sleep. He watched him for a while and he wondered if he was really happy.

 

~********************************~

 

-To be continued