FicWad

'So it's come to this,' Rufus says, clipped. His voice, after three years, is harsher. No less sure, though far less arrogant; a lesson learnt from his days trapped in the Turk headquarters on "an extended business trip". He's less blind now, and his words rip like bullets through Tseng. 'Administrative Research deemed a liability by the Board for co-conspiring with Veld, and myself free to walk out of these doors once my helicopter arrives.'

In essence: everything that Tseng has is ready to fall out from under his feet. Tseng's only response is to help Rufus into his white coat, doing up buttons with brisk efficiency and familiar proximity. His touch is trained and cold in spite of how close they are. 'Sir,' he says when he is finished, pressing his palm flat against Rufus' chest before stepping back, composed.

You're still not here, Rufus once raged, frustrated at his captivity. I was closer to you when you were a continent away. Nothing's changed. 'What will you do?' Rufus barks, bitter like the cold air that whips past them on the open helipad. 'You have time to quit.' Rufus is giving them time to quit, a way out, a backdoor. Tseng isn't even meant to be here at HQ. 'Scarlet has her machines poised to gun you down; Heidegger his army. If you move now you can disappear like the rest of your men.'

Tseng's gaze is amused as he directs Rufus to stand to one side, the drone of an approaching helicopter ringing in their ears. 'I think it was you who said, Vice President sir,' he murmurs, 'that you do not quit being a Turk. We belong to the Shinra Company. It's impossible,' Tseng quotes, mouth close to Rufus' ear as he stands just behind the man, watching the copter wait for clearance. 'The only way to leave is death.'

Rufus spins, and fixes him with a look. 'The only way?'

'Some have tried otherwise,' Tseng says with a shrug, watching the helicopter land. On his shoulders rests the responsibility for the Turks' mutiny against the order to recapture Veld. 'It is a mostly futile struggle. Your transport, sir.'

Rufus raises his voice to be heard over the whirr of helicopter blades, catching Tseng by the arm as the Turk ushers him forward. 'The next time we meet, it will be as opponents.'

'Don't worry, sir,' Tseng yells back, stepping Rufus up into the small passenger compartment. 'As of five hundred hours this morning, we already were.'

Like swift, sudden death, Tseng withdraws a gun, slips the safety off and two seconds later, a body thumps hard onto the helipad, bleeding from a fatal shot to the head. Tseng doesn't blink as he wipes a small spray of fresh blood off his cheek.

Tseng cuts the engine, and takes the time while the noisy chopper blades slow to tap out a number and security clearance codes on his PHS. 'Headquarters,' he says, the slide of his voice smooth and composed. 'Mr President, sir. This is Tseng.'

/Give me a reason/, Tseng's dark eyes tell Rufus as he holds a gun level with the vice president's forehead. 'I have your son,' Tseng continues, taking the recently vacated pilot's seat. 'I also have a proposal.'

-

It is an absurd mirror of what happened three years ago when they arrive back at Midgar, Tseng's suited appearance sending the usual shiver through the crowd of workers rallied to welcome Vice President Rufus back. Tseng is a point and three steps behind Rufus - official Turk bodyguard detail, sanctioned by the President himself.

'Bring him back to Midgar. We will discuss the terms then and there, until then I promise you and your men free passage.'

'Welcome home, Rufus,' Tseng says just before they reach the boardroom where President Shinra is waiting. He lays a hand on the door handle, and pauses to look at the vice president. 'Now we shall see if you have truly outgrown your father.'

Tseng opens the doors before Rufus can reply.

-

'So it's come to this,' Tseng smiles after the meeting, the right side of his lips curling in what could almost be counted as a smirk. 'Blackmail, and one final chance for the Turks to redeem themselves for full pardon, dependent on the orders of an -' Tseng pauses, swishing the ice cubes about his drink, '- incensed Vice President, who, after three years away on what the Board believes a /business trip/, comes back to find that his incompetent father has ostracised his own Turks.' A twitch of Tseng's eyebrows could indicate silent laughter.

Rufus takes Tseng's drink, made in the privacy of Rufus' long-unused rooms in the Shinra building, from him. 'You are,' he says simply, taking a sip from where Tseng last put his lips. 'An utter bastard.'

Tseng's smile this time is definite and feral. 'Your orders, /sir/?'

Rufus drops the glass onto the top of his desk, and withdraws an electronic reader. VELD (Ex-head of department, Administrative Research; defector). Last seen at 2124 at... Mission parameters: locate and remove. 'I give these orders to /you/,' Rufus says, his voice low as he places the slim screen in Tseng's hands. 'No one else. Do you hear me, Director?'

Tseng's fingers close about the reader, pressing the power button and blanking the image Veld's face to black. He smiles, because he can feel the piece of paper Rufus slipped beneath it. Rufus leans against his desk and sips sour alcohol while Tseng reads.

It's a ledger, signed by the Vice President, Rufus Shinra, already affirming the deaths of Veld and Elfe and confirming the enduring loyalty of all Turks.

Tseng looks up, fingers refolding the paper, and smiles for Rufus for the first time.

'Will you stand by me now?' Rufus asks, stepping boldly forward and curling his fingers about Tseng's tie, pulling the Turk in close.

'I have more than enough reason to,' Tseng returns, hands sheathed in half-gloves pushing Rufus' hair back. 'And as a Turk you own me completely.'

Rufus growls, nipping the underside of Tseng's throat. 'As a man?'

'As a man,' Tseng laughs throatily, fingers stroking the back of Rufus' neck once before he steps back, easily breaking out of the vice president's hold. 'As a man, Rufus Shinra,' Tseng laughs, husky and not cruel as he pulls his perfect windsor knot back into place. 'You're far from having me yet.'

'Yet?' Rufus shoots back in an instant, the taste of Tseng and liquor on his tongue.

'I shall watch your growth,' Tseng says, a light in his eyes, 'with great interest. Until then, I have a mission to accomplish.' And he bows at Rufus, half-mocking and yet also half-sincere with his unbound hair falling over his shoulders, before slipping away.

Rufus spends a long while leaning against the desk, reflecting. Tseng does not have to give him everything he wants: he is free to make them challenges instead. His complete obedience is loyalty, not subordination. And these challenges are what make Rufus stronger: the stuff and substance of gods. There is no pride in an empty victory. There is no power in an empty title. There is no value in blind dedication.

And it is the chase, Rufus Shinra has learnt, that makes the prize sweeter.

Rufus finishes the rest of Tseng's drink, blue eyes shuttered and promisingly dark. With a single hand, he withdraws PHS and types out a message.

I've done my duty to Tseng, Veld, and I have done it well.

You had better give him back to me by the end of this.

END