Blood and Chocolate

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Rude lived in a loft. It was stationed in a cleaner part of town, not that it was much of a suprise. The man himself was clean, or looked it at least. As Vincent strode into the apartment, he looked around, noting with annoyance the many windows. He had to admit, however much the sunlight bothered him, the view was incredible. Looking around the place, he noted a few things. There was a set of stairs leading to a top floor. The space was very open, no doors what-so-ever and the bedroom was station against the far wall. The bed looked large and comfortable. It was adorned in midnight blue and fire red blankets. The dresser was off to the far side of the bed while a night stand was right next to the monstrosity. It held a single lamp, a book and a few cords.



On the first floow, there was the kitchen and off to the right, the bathroom which was open to view. There was a set of a sofa, loveseat and two chairs that sectioned off the living area, while there was a small television against the wall across from the furnature. Off near the kitchen was a fish tank. A very large fish tank. It only held a few fish, but they were colorful and large.



Without missing a beat, Rude walked into his home and strode over to his sound system. This was one of his prides. As it started to softly play a series of Classical music from all walks of life, he walked to his kitchen. Out of a cupboard, he pulled out a bottle of Goose. He turned towards Vincent, but the former Turk shook his head. That was just fine. After putting in two ice cubes, he poured himself half a glass and rested against the counter, sipping it lightly.



"You are welcome to the bed." Vincent's eyes snapped in his direction.



"I will take the sofa." Rude shrugged. He didn't care, but at least he had the decency to offer.



Vincent was suprised by the man's deep voice. Sure he had heard it a few times, but since he rarely spoke, it was odd to hear. Although, with his kin tone and build, one would expect such a deep voice. It held an almost hypnotic quality, but the former Turk attributed that to the alcohol.



"Make yourself at home." Bringing his glass with him, the Turk walked back through the living area and up the stairs. Vincent hadn't noticed the man remove his shoes, but with the silent padding of feet, it was made obvious. So, deciding not to be outright rude, even though he should have been, Vincent removed his boots and set them by the door.



Rude came down with a towel in hand, having removed his suit jacket and undone the top two buttons of his shirt. He glass was now almost gone, but he still held onto it for dear life, almost as if the thing would keep him afloat if he was drowning. Vincent knew what it was like, and he did not envy the man in the least. Every Turk had their 'out'. For some it was the company of others, some took to the drink, others to more consequental activities. Like Rude, he had taken up the drink. Until he had been chosen as experiment material that was. Now alcohol did nothing. Or very close to nothing. He watched the man move towards the bathroom where the door was shut with a soft click. Not a full three minutes later the shower started. It was one thing to trust someone enough to take them home, but to leave them alone in your home was another entirely. Strange that the silent Turk had opted for leaving him alone.



Probably because the man knew he wouldn't leave, or break anything.



Taking that as his cue to get comfortable, Vincent walked towards the sofa, eying it suspiciously before sitting down. It was as comfortable as it looked and he couldn't help closing his eyes and leaning against the back. His arms outstretched along the top of the couch and he got into a more comfortable position, legs out and spread, head leaning back. He stayed in that position the entire time Rude was in the shower, enjoying the small comfort alloted by the stuffed material. Once Rude got out of the shower however, he opted to look at the man watch across the room in nothing but his towel.



Now, he knew he was attracted to men, but he liked women. After what happened with...he hadn't gone back to a woman's company since. After her...Tseng had come along. It was firey passion filled with hollow words of promise. Once the Turk had chosen Shin-ra over their relationship, it ended. Now, he was currently together with a loud mouthed, crude, non-elegant human being who opperated big machines on a regular basis. Like air ships. Said man was off somewhere across the world doing work for an old friend.



Cid had been like no other. He was actually a comfort to be around. When they were together, he wasn't nearly as loud, and Vincent had found out something quite interesting. The man played the piano. Very well in fact. Those calloused fingers stroked keys like he would a lover, and he knew that for a fact. But as he watch chocolate colored skin stride across the room, he was painfully reminded of the last time he'd had intimate relations with his current affair. Three months and counting.



Rude felt eyes on him, but he said nothing as he walked up the stairs and changed. He pulled on a simple pair of sleeping pants and a tee shirt. He brought his glass with him and refilled it. OUt of a drawer at the island, he pulled out a file folder. Inside were three sheets of paper detailing what they knew about the current hit on thei President. He handed it wordlessly to Vincent. As the guman opened the filed and read it's contents with amazing speed, Rude was reminded of just how dangerous this man was. He had Turk training, was excellent with any gun he could get his hands on, and he was severely enhanced. Put that all together and you have a tough-as-shit fighting machine, or that was how his partner would put it.



"He greased his bullet with poison?"



"Tseng was just getting over it's affects when he ordered us to bring you in." The man had spoken more words in the last two hours than he had in two days. But, they were working together on a case so his voice was required. As much as it pained him to admit.



"What was the base line?"



"Unknown." He reached over and pointed to a big bold word. Vincent tossed the file to the floor and looked at the ceiling. They had nothing. The bullet had gone completely through, but the exit wound had been the worst, the one Tseng had shown him. It bothered him the fact that the Turk would let himself get shot for an arrogant, spoiled brat, but then again, if he had still been a Turk, he would have done the same thing. With the small tug of a frown, he looked at his host.



"How many made it out of training this year?"



"Three."



"How many were chosen?"



"One. She has no priors and before she was put on duty, her memory was wiped." Vincent hissed at that and looked away.



"Any grudges?" He knew the answer to that question, but what he was really asking was if there had been any threatening letters, bomb threats, a rise in recent gang activity. Maybe there was some political grudge? Of course, it was baby Shinra they were talking about. The kid had grudges with every politician world wide.



"One." Rude, in a few short words, described a letter of no more than fifty words they had gotten a couple of weeks ago saying that the President would pay for his many grevious errors. "We traced it to an old man, veteran SOLDIER. He said he hadn't planned on sending that, but it had come up missing a few days prior and he had suspected his son had found it and mailed it in. The whereabouts of the son are unknown, but the old man is being watched."



"Any connections from the son to Shin-ra, SOLDIER or maybe even AVALANCHE?"



"Nothing. We asked Barret and he didn't have anything for us." Vincent nodded and closed his eyes. Well he couldn't have a rogue shooter ruining his reputation as the best gunner Shin-ra had ever seen so he would put the kibosh on this as quickly as possible and get back to his quite, dark, solitary life. With Cid. He hadn't realized Rude was speaking until he felt something touch him. His eyes snapped open and he looked to the right, where Rude was standing, and noticed a bottle of water.



"Thank you." He took the bottle and uncapped it, sniffing the contents to make sure it was clear of drugs. When he was satisfied, he took a sip.



"What is between you and Tseng?"



"Why do you put up with your partner?" If Rude wanted to get personal, all was fair in war. He heard the distinct sound of clenching teeth before the black man turned and started up the stairs. The music went up a decible and Vincent found himself getting agitated. Instead of saying anything, he simply got up and turned the music off. He didn't mind the classics, but only when they were at tolerable volumes and usually only played by Cid's skilled hands.



Just as he got settled back on the couch, the music turned back on. Vincent's eyes reddened and he snapped them up to the bedroom where he pointedly glared at Rude. The black man just removed his glasses and got onto the bed. Vincent waited until he knew the other would be asleep before he got up and shut the music off. But apparently the man hadn't been sleeping, because again, he had just gotten comfortable when the stero cut on.



This war went back and forth for an hour before Vincent marched up the stairs, grabbed the remote, broke it, and went back downstairs to shut off the music. Rude followed him right back down the stairs and turned the button back on. Before he knew what happened, a golden claw held his throat and he was firmly against his wall.



"If you want to act childish, I will put you over my knee, Turk. If you want my help however, I suggest you let me work in silence." With that, Vincent stepped away from the man and walked towards the couch. He sat on the floor and pulled off his cloak. He grabbed the file and studied it's contents before asking Rude for some maps. The black man complied and after that, he went to bed.



Now, he did not like the fact that someone else was here, not at all.