Blood and Chocolate

Okay, sorry this update took almost a year. -cough- Here we go!

PS-

The story gets a little confusing in this chapter but all will be explained later!!!



=======



Vincent had spent the remainder of the next day and night isolating the compounds that greased the bullet that had entered Tseng's body. It was a home made compound. the poison had been standard issue, right out of a Shin-ra store house. How sweet that the President could very well have been killed by something his own scientists had manufactured! It made Vincent show his teeth in a sneer when he'd figured out the complex sequence of numbers marking the poison as Shin-ra made.



Now he was out in the middle of the daylight and cursing every moment of it. Why? He had severely sensitive eyes and his skin started to burn after exposure for ten minutes. However, Rude, ever thoughtful host that he was had brought sunscreen. So now, Vincent was staring out the sight of a rifle, trying to find exactly where the shot had come from. When he realized that it wasn't this spot, he moved on to the next and the next. Each spot he tried were ones he would have shot from himself. When none of them worked, he tried beginner ranges and hiding places. When he found one, he could have cursed. He made a mental note to himself before standing and waving Rude over.



"Give me that paper and hold this." Rude handed over a piece of paper that held a bunch of numbers that he himself didn't understand. He didn't even bother asking what they meant. he was sure that he wouldn't like or understand the answer so he left it at that. Vincent started writing furiously, his hand moving in jerky motions that, with the look of them--should have produced horrible chicken scratch but amazingly all of the numbers and half words were legible. He still didn't understand any of it.



Until Vincent started talking.



"The gun was at a one hundred and eighty-six degree angle, pointed towards that tree when it was fired. One of the components on the bullet that was retrieved from the tree over there," he pointed with his pencil, "was lead based paint. Another was actually chlorophyll." He moved a couple of the branches on the bush he was standing in to reveal a leaf with a hole through it. "My guess is he was waiting here before the...whatever it was and he blended in well enough that he wasn't seen. although I would like to know how he got passed the dogs and a heat sensor." Vincent looked down in thought.



"Is that all?" Vincent's eye twitched when Rude spoke.



"What do you mean, "is that all?" "



"Is this all that you have figured out over the last three days?" He tried resisting the urge to grab the black man in front of him, but he failed miserably. He reached out with his clawed hand, having dropped his paper, and grabbed Rude by the front of his shirt and jacket.



"Listen here you self absorbed, brainless cock sucker--when you can do my job better than I can, then I will be more than happy to have over the reigns. Until the time you can decipher how many different chemicals are in your piss then I highly suggest you stop baiting me and let me finish this." He shoved the black man away, grabbed the paper and the rifle and stalked off. Rude bit his tongue to keep from retaliating. He would never admit to deserving that. Ever.





And together they went to visit the veteran SOLDIER. As they interrogated the old man, who walked with a cane and was missing his left eye, they found out a few interesting tidbits. He'd worked along side Verdot for a few missions but other than that, was an unknown. However, his son had been an active member in an Anti Shin-ra group for six or seven years. After his mother was murdered by one of baby Shin-ra's lackeys, the kid had gone apeshit. The old man didn't send the letter, the son did. And the old man admitted to not knowing where his son had been or was for the last two weeks.



So that gave them a more than possible suspect. But now they had to find the crazy little shit before he took another shot at Rufus...and got lucky. Not that Reno or Rude would let the would-be sniper get lucky. Or Tseng.



While driving back to see Tseng, Vincent got to thinking. Not that he didn't already do a lot of that--but why would Tseng take a shot for that ungrateful little prick? Sure it was his job, but what did the baby Shin-ra mean to Tseng? Vincent shook his head. If he thought about it, he might not like the picture he came up with. In fact, just the tid-bitted inkling that his brain leaked to him made his hand fist. Dirty little bastard. Slimy, evil-



"We're here." Vincent looked out the window. Sure enough they were. With a grunt, he got out of the car and started up towards the door. he was stopped, thought about kicking some ass but Rude got there before his hand even started reaching out to throttle. So, they made it through the front door and into the building before being stopped again. Vincent managed to get ahold of a guard this time and Rude had to intervene before the poor sod got injured. After that, it was a smooth ride straight to the top.



Until the guards outside Tsengs room wanted to get an attitude. One went flying through the double doors while the other fell to the ground, out cold. Vincent marched right through the open doors and stared down the barrel of a simple hand gun. He scoffed at it before looking at Tseng.



"Why did you take his bullet?" Tseng lowered the gun and waved Rude out of the room.



"It's my job. My duty. I think you know a little something about that, don't you khaanadaan prenee?"



"If you say that one more time Tseng, I will blow your God damned head off." Vincent was snarling now, eyes turning slowly crimson. Tseng leaned over the desk and got right into Vincent's face.



"We are not together anymore. Why does it matter to you if I take a bullet instead of letting him get what he rightfully deserves?"



"BECAUSE HE DESERVES IT!" Vincent roared and whirled away rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Don't get hit again for that sorry, sniveling baby Tseng. I will be the one to kill you not him." And with that, Vincent left the office and went straight for Rude's car. Rude was standing at the car, leaning against it, waiting.



"Good meeting?"



"Not now Rude or you'll be eating the dirt." Rude wisely kept his mouth shut and drove them back to the loft.



When they arrived, Vincent was the first out of the car and the first in the door. He completely ignored the locks and walked right in to sit on the couch. he didn't even take his shoes off! Rude's eyebrow twitched. Calmly, he strode into the loft, took his shoes off and loosened his tie. The black man walked straight to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of goose.



And they didn't say anything for the next twenty minutes. Rude stood in the kitchen sipping his goose while Vincent simmered.



"Want to talk about it?" Rude, offering to talk? The goose must be getting to him.



"Not particularly."



"Want to fight it out?"



"No."



"Go take your shoes off Valentine." Vincent looked over at Rude who was pouring himself another glass. He stood and walked to the door to take his shoes off. Thankfully, there wasn't much dirt to clean up, but he got out a vacuum and cleaned it up without being told. When finished, he walked back to the couch and simmered some more.



"Why would he take a bullet for him?"



"Not only is it his job, but he is honor bound to do so. Upon becoming a Turk, we take a vow-"



"To protect the President. I know Rude."



"But when you gain the promotion that Tseng has, it is now his life. The air he breathes. You wouldn't know because you were taken before you got the promotion." Vincent looked over and studied the black man for a moment.



"You have talked more to me today than you have over the last three."



"I don't enjoy speaking."



"And your partner makes up for it in spades." Rude chuckled.



"And yours doesn't?" Vincent thought about it.



"No, he doesn't talk all that much. His fingers do." Rude looked at Vincent like he'd lost his marbles. "He plays the piano Rude."



"Oh."