Final Fantasy VII (Rude/Reno)
Rude flipped his phone open one handed, wedging it against one shoulder as he continued eating his pancakes. “Rude here.”
“Hey partner,” Reno’s voice smirked at him, barely audible over the harsh buzz of static on the line. “How’re things?”
“Quiet,” Rude answered, just to be obtuse. The server came by with a carafe of coffee, but he waved her off absently. “Why?”
Reno laughed, the same rolling, slightly manic sound Rude was used to hearing when they got in a particularly good fight. “Just making conversation, yo,” Reno said airily, pitch rising as he tried to make himself heard amid the static. “Or is being polite against the rules for Turks?”
“You’d have to ask Tseng.” Rude took another bite of his breakfast, listening to the crackle of the phone in his ear. There was a strange quality to the static, he noticed, the sound fluctuating in short staccato bursts that started and stopped and started again, almost like…
“You’re in the middle of a gun fight,” Rude realized, not really a question. The businessman at the table next to him choked suddenly on his toast but Rude ignored him.
He could hear Reno grinning on the other end of the line. “More like at the side of a gun fight,” his partner corrected. “Cause I’d be mostly dead otherwise. And before you ask, it totally wasn’t my fault this time, yo.”
“Hnn.” Rude pushed his plate away and signaled for the server. “What happened?”
Reno made a disgusted sound. “Bunch of idiots started blowing holes in each other in front of the First Plate Bank,” he explained.
Rude raised an involuntary eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you tried to stop them.”
“Are you kidding? I don’t get paid for that kind of shit.”
Which was exactly what he had expected Reno to say, but it didn’t explain the slight hitch Rude could detect in his partner’s usually smooth voice.
“…I assume there’s more to this story.”
“Fuck yeah. The - ”
A noise like something exploding blasted over the phone, blocking out whatever came next, “-and then they got bored and starting taking pot shots at everything within a three mile radius,” he heard Reno finish, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
“Where’d you get hit?” Rude demanded, leaning back to let the server take his half-full plate.
There was a brief pause, then Reno laughed ruefully. “Never could hide a thing from you,” he said, more accepting than bothered. “It’s nothing big.”
Rude snorted. “Like hell I’m going to believe that. Specifics Reno.”
A sigh gusted noisily over the line. “Grazing shot across my forehead and one in the arm,” Reno told him candidly, professional even when being a pain in Rude’s backside. “I’m sitting on my ass behind a car that looks like it’s gone through a cheese grater waiting for these morons to finish killing each other. The response time for the Shinra armed forces is complete shit, yo.”
Rude stood, chair skidding across the floor. “You’re outside the First Plate Bank?” he confirmed, throwing a handful of gil on the table without waiting for the bill.
“It’s fine man!” Reno declared expansively, then cursed roundly as something else exploded in the background. “Everything’s totally under control!”
“I’m on my way,” Rude told him, ignoring the protest. “Don’t die before I get there.”
He could just picture the sharp grin on Reno’s face. “Thanks for that Mr. Fantastic. I’ll just wait for you here then, shall I?”
Rude permitted himself a small smile as he shoved open the door. “You do that,” he said. “I’ll see you in 10.”
“You’re all heart partner. Later yo!”
The line went dead in his ear and Rude slid his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. He really had to talk to Reno about getting himself shot up when they weren’t on duty - this was the third time in a fortnight and Rude was getting tired of missing breakfast.
~owari
“Hey partner,” Reno’s voice smirked at him, barely audible over the harsh buzz of static on the line. “How’re things?”
“Quiet,” Rude answered, just to be obtuse. The server came by with a carafe of coffee, but he waved her off absently. “Why?”
Reno laughed, the same rolling, slightly manic sound Rude was used to hearing when they got in a particularly good fight. “Just making conversation, yo,” Reno said airily, pitch rising as he tried to make himself heard amid the static. “Or is being polite against the rules for Turks?”
“You’d have to ask Tseng.” Rude took another bite of his breakfast, listening to the crackle of the phone in his ear. There was a strange quality to the static, he noticed, the sound fluctuating in short staccato bursts that started and stopped and started again, almost like…
“You’re in the middle of a gun fight,” Rude realized, not really a question. The businessman at the table next to him choked suddenly on his toast but Rude ignored him.
He could hear Reno grinning on the other end of the line. “More like at the side of a gun fight,” his partner corrected. “Cause I’d be mostly dead otherwise. And before you ask, it totally wasn’t my fault this time, yo.”
“Hnn.” Rude pushed his plate away and signaled for the server. “What happened?”
Reno made a disgusted sound. “Bunch of idiots started blowing holes in each other in front of the First Plate Bank,” he explained.
Rude raised an involuntary eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you tried to stop them.”
“Are you kidding? I don’t get paid for that kind of shit.”
Which was exactly what he had expected Reno to say, but it didn’t explain the slight hitch Rude could detect in his partner’s usually smooth voice.
“…I assume there’s more to this story.”
“Fuck yeah. The - ”
A noise like something exploding blasted over the phone, blocking out whatever came next, “-and then they got bored and starting taking pot shots at everything within a three mile radius,” he heard Reno finish, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
“Where’d you get hit?” Rude demanded, leaning back to let the server take his half-full plate.
There was a brief pause, then Reno laughed ruefully. “Never could hide a thing from you,” he said, more accepting than bothered. “It’s nothing big.”
Rude snorted. “Like hell I’m going to believe that. Specifics Reno.”
A sigh gusted noisily over the line. “Grazing shot across my forehead and one in the arm,” Reno told him candidly, professional even when being a pain in Rude’s backside. “I’m sitting on my ass behind a car that looks like it’s gone through a cheese grater waiting for these morons to finish killing each other. The response time for the Shinra armed forces is complete shit, yo.”
Rude stood, chair skidding across the floor. “You’re outside the First Plate Bank?” he confirmed, throwing a handful of gil on the table without waiting for the bill.
“It’s fine man!” Reno declared expansively, then cursed roundly as something else exploded in the background. “Everything’s totally under control!”
“I’m on my way,” Rude told him, ignoring the protest. “Don’t die before I get there.”
He could just picture the sharp grin on Reno’s face. “Thanks for that Mr. Fantastic. I’ll just wait for you here then, shall I?”
Rude permitted himself a small smile as he shoved open the door. “You do that,” he said. “I’ll see you in 10.”
“You’re all heart partner. Later yo!”
The line went dead in his ear and Rude slid his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. He really had to talk to Reno about getting himself shot up when they weren’t on duty - this was the third time in a fortnight and Rude was getting tired of missing breakfast.
~owari