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Corporate Affairs~
by 01_one_man_army (01_one_man_army)
at January 23rd, 2006 (01:30 pm)

Why am I starting a new thread? I don't know, it seemed like the thing to do.



It was Sephiroth who noticed. It was always Sephiroth who noticed. Other people had their on and off switches, mission mode on and they were all professional, all die hard trained killing machine, mission mode off and they were as normal as they make themselves with bad jokes and alcohol.

The White General had no off switch for his instincts. It wasn’t training, because they’d all gone through training and even Zack didn’t always wake up from a sound sleep with a gun in one hand and a blade in the other. Pure carnal instinct. Predator instinct, and it never went away.

Zack had finally resorted to unloading all the accessible firearms before they slept, because even a twitch in dreaming, or a moth fluttering against the tent canvas, would result in a cold metal barrel against Zack’s temple and cat slit eyes reflecting moonlight and absolutely no humanity.

The great general Sephiroth, he harrumphed when Cloud started in on his idol worshipping. You try sharing a tent with him in the jungle. Couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve tripped over that silly sword of his because he won’t let it out of hand. He snores, too. And whines like a girl about his coffee.

And Cloud would give him that ‘are you making this up’ look, and Zack would end up trying to look innocent and failing, and Cloud would get his exasperated expression, and so on and so forth.

“It isn’t going to work.” Sephiroth was specifically not looking at him, his coolly distant gaze directed out at the milling execs in a deliberate Do Not Disturb warning.

Zack shrugged, brushing at his uniform. Twittering Priscilla, useful though she might have been in chastising superior officers who tried to skip out on boring social functions when their XOs were in forced attendance, had left an awful lot of glitter in her wake when she’d finally flounced off. “Oh I don’t know. I think Beatrix is definitely due for another advancement, no one would oppose the motion with her record…”

“I’m not talking about that.” There was ice underneath the words; Sephiroth was notorious for his frigid neutrality in the political maelstrom of Shinra and he did not care to have that truth challenged.

“Oh ye of little faith,” the other SOLDIER muttered. He’d been expecting this, Auron had all but hit him over the head with it. “You want me to stand by and watch him get killed?”

“He is Veld’s problem.”

“Veld isn’t doing shit about it.”

“To your knowledge.”

Zack rolled his eyes. “Conspiracy and whatever the hell little underhanded spy games Veld has running aren’t the same as giving the kid a bulletproof vest and some decent guards. You’ve heard the rumors flying around about assassination. It’s too hot for the Turks to pussyfoot around executive egos.” Or Presidential ones, he added mentally.

“Then it is far too hot for SOLDIER to even be involved.” Oh, and Seph was mad now, he’d finally deigned to glance Zack’s way, and there was nothing cool or distant about his snapping gaze.

Zack didn’t flinch. Zack was the only one who never flinched, and the only one who ever saw past the professional irritation to the friend who was, in his own twisted way, concerned.

“He’ll die, Seph.”

“You don’t know that.”

“We both know it. It’ll all be very convenient and he’ll get shot and he’ll die.”

The General remained unmoved. “People die.”

“He’s just a kid.”

“Those die too.” By your hands. By mine. Stop playing hero to lost causes.

But someone had to. “Begging your pardon, General asshole sir,” he retorted, “but this isn’t the bloody jungle and we’re not at war. It’s called ‘murder’ here in civilization and where I come from we don’t stand for it.”

The words in reply were nothing more than a hiss of breath. One black gloved hand was hard on his shoulder, forcing him into the wall, and anything but a genetically enhanced superhuman, or Zack On A Mission, would have winced at the grip that had crushed human skulls before. “Regicide is also murder, you fool, and that’s where this is headed. If that boy tries and fails, anyone supporting him will…”

“..be there to make sure he doesn’t fail.”

Sephiroth went still, and for a moment Zack wondered if he had gone too far. Auron had been watching them from across the room, but now he pushed off from the wall, doubtless wondering if he’d be needed to cart out a body in about three seconds.

Too late to take it back, and it was the truth anyway. “That man dropped a bomb on a city full of refugees, Seph,” Zack reminded his commander softly. “A target of no military value. It killed a few rebels. It killed sympathetic resistance cells. It killed sick and dying people who didn’t care which way the war went any longer. It killed some of our own troops who were trying to help with the wounded. Are you honestly telling me that you would prefer him to his son at the helm when we go off to the next jungle?”

The pressure decreased slightly. Zack had already won, just as he knew he would, but it didn’t make him feel any better wringing the admission of it out of a friend.

Sephiroth stepped back, once again cold and remote and his voice a study in clinical disinterest. “You could burn for this.”

“We all burn for something.” I’d rather it be me than you. It was obvious, at least to Zack, which one of them had less to lose.

A ripple went through the fall of silver hair, indicating something that might have been a sigh. Zack seemed to inspire those. “You might have at least said something.”

The SOLDIER rubbed at his bruised shoulder, thankful the mark wouldn’t show under his shoulder armor. “Why ask permission when you already know the answer and are planning to ignore it anyway?”

“You were a sergeant for entirely too long,” Sephiroth muttered. A pause. “Dincht and Kinneas? I thought you were trying to keep him alive.”

Zack grinned. “That’s the trick of it, isn’t it? I can’t try too hard or someone might get suspicious about my ulterior motives. Of course, I could always just say I’m recruiting him for my harem.” He cast a sideways look at his General.

Sephiroth didn’t bat an eyelash. “I pity that boy.”

“I pity him as well,” Auron remarked, materializing at Sephiroth’s side. “He just reeled out looking like someone hit him with Poison. Punch was a little harder this year.”

Shit. Zack whipped around, seeking blond spikes and a red ponytail amidst the sea of heads….

…and found one, the wrong one. Zell was trapped in a press of people and looking frantically for escape without resorting to shoving bodies aside. Irvine he couldn’t see, but somehow Zack doubted that he’d left for anything resembling his mission, if he’d left at all. Probably was drowning in sequined evening gowns and diamond decorated bosoms as usual.

Shit.

Sephiroth being Sephiroth and having just lost an argument felt the need to comment. “Your ruse of questionable concern seems to be working,” he said blandly. “I’m having trouble believing it at all.”

“Not helping,” Zack growled.

“Looks like Tseng beat you to it anyway.” Auron nodded at a closing door, but he was talking to empty air. Zack was already wading through bodies.

Sephiroth sipped his champagne and waited, watching his XO’s progress. Right on cue, a secretary latched onto the dark haired SOLDIER’s arm. His determined expression faltered into one of pure horror as she dragged him over to her friends, including some of Zack’s more avid admirers, and he realized that there was no way he was going to be able to escape gracefully, if at all.

“This is why I don’t come to parties,” the General remarked in irritation, handing off his glass to Auron. “Someone gets drunk, Zack attempts to take responsibility, and I end up cleaning up the mess anyway.” He set off purposefully through the crowd towards the cornered Zell, and people melted from his advance like prairie grass in the wind. It was a gift.

Auron watched as Seph reached a terrified looking Zell and set off on a new course with the blond SOLDIER in tow, heading for the doors Tseng had disappeared through. Then Zack caught his eye, winked with a manic grin, and mouthed ‘Told you.’

Auron rolled his eyes behind his glasses. He was too old for this.




Comments

Posted by: gunsight (gunsight)
Posted at: January 27th, 2006 10:37 pm (UTC)

She blinked. Was that how classified information was handled in Shinra? Take everything you learnt from the Academy, Rosalind-san, and throw it out of the window...

And as for the rest... "There were plenty of people at the academy spouting all kinds of cliched rubbish," she said softly, turning her attention to the menu. "One soon learns that it inevitably means that they want something from you. Especially when they go overboard with it." She flicked past the appetizers, and glanced up, her expression gone suddenly serious. "What do you want from me, Zack-san?"

Nothing, she hoped. Nothing, because Zack-san looked like a nice person, someone you could trust. She had met plenty of rogues affecting the same attitude as him, and most of them had turned out to be sleazy, arrogant trash more intent on getting into your pants than passing their courses. And stealing your notes or copying your papers when they ran into the risk of failing those courses. Fortunately, no one could cheat on the practical exams.

Except that they had turned that into an excuse as well. "Give us shooting lessons, Rosie," they'd drawl, cornering her in a corridor somewhere between classes. The B-grade movie thing to do would have been to pick a fight, but they too were Academy graduates, all trained to kill a man with their bare hands. It was around that time that she had decided that she wanted a job that let you use your brains more than your brawn.

Sometimes, it had been esaier to play along, to pretend that you really were as entranced with their charms as they thought you were, until they got tired of it. She'd given them shooting lessons for real, played on their inate, competitive, male instincts, until they were mad enough at being beaten by a woman that they forgot why they were chasing her in the first place.

But all of that was over. Gone. She was a Turk now, and she wasn't going to play the game any longer. If Zack turned out to be one of those, she was turning around and leaving.

Even if the food smelt really good. And she was honestly, honestly starving at this point. As her stomach took the liberty of reminding her with a stark growl.

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