Bullet Catchers

Bullet Catchers

By Jazzbo22
Jazzbo22@hotmail.com

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm’s way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! It means a whole lot to me, and inspires me! Things will get cookin’ soon, just you wait. I promise I’ll make the wait worth it ;). Anyways, as always, please review, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


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Chapter Five



By the end of the day, Rufus was considerably exhausted. While the interviews weren’t tiring or challenging, they had dragged on. Halfway through the sixth he realized he was operating completely on autopilot, the same answers to the same damn questions spilling out like he had rehearsed it. During the interviews Tseng had been a menacing presence beside him, and inbetween he was either on the phone with his Turks or Gomez, or going over his own paperwork. No doubt he was on top of everyone’s part in the investigation. In fact, for all the years Rufus had known him, he had never seen him take an extended break, or even just a little time for himself. With the way he was so dedicated to his work, Tseng probably could recite the reports, word for word. He was an incredible Turk. His father had gotten something right at least when he had chosen Tseng.

After the interviews had finished Rufus had realized that the paper pile of death still awaited him. Needless to say, it had been another few hours of office hell before that job was finished.

He would have to do it all over again tomorrow.

While working though, he did get to hear some interesting things from Tseng’s side of the phone. It was a little humourous to watch him as he dealt with each of his subordinates. Just by Tseng’s facial reactions alone he could tell which person he was speaking to.

“Would you just…okay…no, don’t do that. Don’t make me…fine. Okay. Give me an update in an hour.” All the while he was rubbing his temple, sighing exasperatingly. That’s Reno for you. Rude couldn’t be more different. Tseng was a picture of calm and coolness when he talked to him. He looked like his usual self on the job.

“Excellent…perfect…send that to my PHS. Yes…it’s up to you. Call me if you discover anything.” And Gomez, well, you could tell they went way back.

“Okay, sounds great. Come up and see me later…oh, sure, call anytime…yes, just let me know what works for you.” A ghost of a smile played on his lips even after he had hung up the phone.

Eventually Rufus had placed his documents in the right bin for his secretary to sort through tomorrow. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to resting a bit. They had stopped briefly at his mansion so he could gather his things, and now were on their way to Tseng’s apartment.

“How is your shoulder doing?” Rufus asked.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt much.”

“I gather it’s not the first time you’ve been shot?” He didn’t know for sure. Right now he was fishing for new information from his personal Turk. Tseng was an interesting figure, and he felt the need to know more about the Wutaian.

“Been shot at plenty of times.”

“But you haven’t always been lucky.”

“No,” Tseng replied. “I haven’t. I’ve been lucky enough to dodge the majority of shots taken at me though, bullets and otherwise.”

Rufus pondered Tseng’s form of answer. He was being elusive. It was intriguing, and frustrating at the same time. He knew Tseng’s penchant for maintaining, or at least looking like he maintained a perfect record, but surely this man couldn’t be on the mark all the time? And what with not giving him a straight answer? It wasn’t like he was going to run around Shinra HQ, spreading the word.

“Have you ever felt you were stuck in a no-win situation?” Rufus wondered outloud. Tseng gave him a brief look – for the life of him he couldn’t tell what was behind the older man’s eyes. Too much meaning – or maybe too little.

“Everyday.” The answer surprised Rufus. He scoffed – it was the first reaction that came to him.

“Tseng, really. I read your file when I was appointed President. All the field work you’ve done, especially since becoming leader of the Turks is impeccable. You’re the man to get the job finished – which means you win a whole hell of a lot.”

“Not right now.” Tseng answered truthfully. Rufus raised an eyebrow.

“Not right now? What do you mean?” After a long pause, Tseng finally answered.

“We don’t have the advantage over these criminals that want you dead. I’m not losing faith, I still intend work at this as hard as I can, but we’re at a standstill. I don’t want to alarm you, you are safe right now…we’re just in a frustrating process of putting pieces of a puzzle together.” Rufus understood.

“Maybe you need to rest for a while, regroup, then get back to work.” Tseng shook his head.

“I can’t rest yet. There are too many things going through my mind that keep me up.”

“You’re going to burn yourself out.”

“Not yet.” Tseng glanced at him again. He looked…dangerous. “I’ve been worse than this. Staying up a little while isn’t going to kill me.” Rufus didn’t want to point out that they were both running on the same minimal sleep, and he was definitely feeling the effects. That would make him look…weak.

They had pulled up to a sharp looking apartment complex. Figures Tseng would be living in one of the classiest buildings in Midgar. He had parked in the underground garage, exiting the car and walking over to assist Rufus. After locking the vehicle, they made their way over to the elevator, Tseng carrying Rufus’ bag for him. Rufus would have protested – he wasn’t the one with the injured shoulder – but he had learned a long time ago that this was Tseng’s manner. Same with opening the car door for him – it’s what Tseng does.

The elevator slowed to a stop on the twelfth floor, Tseng stepping out and scanning the hallway before nodding to Rufus. He followed the silent Turk all the way to the end of the hall, stopping outside door 1220. Tseng pulled the key from his pocket, unlocking the deadbolt and holding the door for Rufus to enter first. Following behind him, Tseng locked all three locks before turning on the lights. He was right about Tseng’s style. The man was sophisticated. And clean.

Rufus would have guessed that he would stay to a dark palette in his home décor – Tseng just struck him that way. His glossy black hair, the dark suit, his somewhat pale skin – doesn’t exactly strike you as a Red! Gold! Violet! Green! person. But he was, and it was nice. The living room was what first grabbed Rufus’ attention when he walked in. Tseng had colourful Wutaian tapestries hanging on the walls, embroided in the aforementioned colours. His furniture was black leather, the carpet white, and the walls red. The coffee tables and tv stand were a rich oak. The floor lamps were gold in colour.

Even though it was colourful, and quite homely, it still gave off masculine vibes. The samurai sword mounted on the wall, and the tapestries – upon closer inspection seemed to tell a story of a Wutaian warrior. Tseng didn’t have any pictures of family or friends, or even significant others anywhere in the living room. Not that he found it too strange – he was raised in a household where pictures were clutter. His father didn’t want that crap around…his mother might’ve, but she never stood up for herself.

“I’ll give you the mini-tour.” Tseng offered, taking Rufus’ jacket and placing it in the front closet. Rufus followed him left into the next room. It brought them to a kitchen with a small attached dining room. The counters were a dark marble, the walls still red, with hard wood floors. The dining room table was also sleek and black. Tseng had Wutaian paintings on all four walls.

“Down here is the washroom and bedrooms.” Left there was a hallway, with one bathroom and two bedrooms. Tseng stood in the doorway to one of the bedrooms.

“This is yours.” Tseng placed Rufus’ case at the foot of the bed. Rufus had wondered why Tseng didn’t outfit his house with traditional Wutaian furniture, but it looked like he had saved it for the bedrooms. Or at least, for his anyways. Tseng’s door was closed.

The futon sat low to the ground, the comforter a deep, appealing shade of violet. It went well with the red walls. Tseng had a few Wutai mementos hanging on the walls, lantern lights, as well as bamboo shades for the window.

“If you need me at all, my room is right across from yours. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

“Make myself at home?” Rufus anticipated what Tseng was going to say next. The Turk just smiled.

“That too. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but it’s what has to happen. Because of the secrecy going on right now, I have to ask you not to set foot out of this apartment unless I am accompanying you. From now on you’re going to have to wear a hat or something concealing your face when you’re coming and going, so no one tips you off for living here.”

Not what Rufus wanted to hear, but he’d rather that then someone busting into Tseng’s place deep in the night and shooting him in his sleep. Tseng was a competent, intelligent, dangerous man – if he told him to wear a mask, he’d wear it.

“Anyways, I’ll leave you to get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Rufus answered, watching Tseng close his door. He was exhausted, aching for the need to rest awhile.

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Tseng had waited until Rufus’s bedroom light went out before resuming his work. He had picked up the old files of the feelers while at HQ, surprised at how few were still working. Rude had filled him in on the deceased, the out of commission and the still useful ones. Right now he was running background checks on them. In the past they had been a valuable resource for Shinra – they tended to do a good job when paid enough. None of them had ever walked away from the job, so he wasn’t worried about turncoats.

The Falcon kid had some inconsistencies in his report, Tseng chalking that up to youth. He was also relatively new when he was first hired, so by now he should’ve sharpened up. Tseng expected it, especially after having a talking to with both his Turks. That would be enough to keep anyone on the straight and narrow.

Placing his file to the side, Tseng reviewed what he had so far. Gomez had been calling him with regular updates – seems from a steady analysis of the video, there were a few unrecognizable faces. Gomez had counted six. That meant whoever was behind this was at least a team of that number. The faces were blurry though – all Gomez had discovered was that they were not the SOLDIERs supposed to be on duty. They hadn’t matched the faces to any names yet. They weren’t active Shinra employees though, that was for sure.

It was good and disappointing news for Tseng. Good, because they were starting to narrow their search down. Bad, because it still meant they had to find the person working for the company that was putting on a convincing charade. He had considered interrogating everyone in the building, but that would be too time consuming. It would also leave Rufus vulnerable, giving his attackers a prime opportunity to attack again. No, this mission had to be done covertly.

Tseng rubbed at his eyes. The lack of sleep was starting to get to him. He needed to rest, as much as he tried to refuse or fight it. The strain in his body was starting to take form as a painful throb in his shoulder. Taking painkillers had been at the back of his mind all day, and now he was paying for it. The fresh wound was definitely making itself known.

He popped two of the tiny white pills, following it with a cool sip of water. He was working from his bedroom, lest the light from the kitchen sneak under Rufus’ door and disturb his sleep. He had a small desk right next to his futon, but it wasn’t nearly as comfortable or spacious as the one he had at HQ.

Skimming through the files once more, he felt like he was missing something. Just a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, but enough to convince him to stay up longer. One more read-through, and then he was going to lie down for an hour or so.

No, nothing really stood out. Reno and Rude were waiting for their feelers. Gomez was seeing about those unnamed SOLDIERs. Elena was still unconscious in the hospital, and Rufus was sound asleep in his guest room. He couldn’t say who was going against Shinra just yet – he had been paying attention while at the building but nothing struck him as peculiar. Maybe he would find what he thought was missing later.

After an hour long nap. That’s all he needed.

Climbing under his futon comforter, he set his watch alarm to go off in an hour. Then he would check in with his men, see if they had dug up anything that would be of interest to him.


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It was four am in the city of Midgar, and while everyone was tucked in their beds, or asleep on the slum sidewalks, Reno and Rude were pulling out of a twenty-four hour drive-thru, coffee in hand.

Tseng had called a little less than two hours ago, checking in with them. All Rude had to report was that Falcon had some activity going on – he had seen some suspicious figures wanting to make a cash for weapons trade. Not so much of a big deal in the slums, but they trusted Falcon would know the difference between usual weapons carrying slum dwellers and someone who was capable of taking out the President. Falcon seemed convinced that these guys were the real deal, so he was keeping an eye out. Rude and Reno would jump into action when it was confirmed they were to be taken seriously. For now though, it was still a waiting game.

“My eyes feel like they have sand in them, I’m so tired.” Reno whined to his partner. While they had been sent on missions where they suffered lack of sleep for up to seventy-two hours, it was never something they got used to. Rude nodded, suppressing a yawn.

“This can be over tomorrow if Falcon or any of the others tip us off on good info.” Rude grunted out from behind his hand. The last nap they had taken was around six hours ago. Reno wanted another one, and he was sure Rude felt the same way. However, if their boss was up and working hard, then they should be too.

“Hey, why don’t you tell me a story to keep me awake?” Reno said, turning to regard his partner. Rude frowned.

“What the hell would you want to hear?” Reno pondered this. What the hell did he want to know about Rude? He had worked with him forever. Seemed like he knew everything already, except…

“What was life for you like pre-Shinra? Did you have any family?” He had heard from Tseng that Rude was recruited into the Turks from a fight Tseng had witnessed. Apparently he was more than pleased with the bald man’s combat skills and saw to it that he was trained for the Turks immediately.

Rude was quiet, so much so that Reno thought he had ignored his question and was hoping it would be forgotten in the silence. Not that Reno really expected an answer – neither of them had ever gotten into detail over what life was like before they had been recruited. Rude finally cleared his throat, staring out the front windshield.

“I came from a dysfunctional family.” He started. Reno watched him, watched for any facial expressions giving away what Rude was truly feeling. There was nothing yet. “My father was a violent drunk, took it out on my mom a lot. She was strong though, she took it so we didn’t have to.” We. Reno didn’t know there was a ‘we’. He always imagined Rude as an only child.

“As the years dragged on, my father got more and more aggressive every night he came home pissed. When I got older he’d sometimes beat my mom down, then come after me next.” Rude was frowning, his eyebrows drawn together. “Sometimes it was bad. I wanted him to hit me though, instead of my mother or my younger brother. It helped as I got older I started getting bigger. I fought a lot at school, out on the streets, so I learned what worked and what didn’t. Eventually my dad stopped beating me down, when it was obvious I could beat the shit out of him. Left our family alone. He had gotten into some trouble though and was eventually killed in a bar fight.”

Reno hadn’t expected Rude to have such a tragic past. Sure, he thought he had it rough sometimes – you wouldn’t be in the Turks if your life had been peachy, but this was just…really, really wrong. He didn’t want Rude to have such a bitter upbringing. Rude deserved a whole lot more.

“We were better off without him, started having a normal life. Things were good for a few years, but then my brother had gotten drunk with a couple friends and decided that running off into the ocean was a good idea. He drowned.” Rude’s face was a carefully controlled mask. Reno was sure if he had pulled off his shades, there would be a completely different story behind his eyes.

“After that, there wasn’t a prayer for normalcy. My mother was always doped up on anti-depressants, just so she could live day to day. I started working as some sort of a mercenary, running jobs for local crime lords. After a drug trade went wrong, it busted out into a huge fight.” Rude cracked his knuckles. “And then Tseng saved me from myself. So, now you know my background story. Is it what you thought?”

“What happened to your mom?” Reno found himself asking. Rude let a small sigh escape.

“Overdose, just before I was recruited.”

Reno didn’t even know what to say. Nothing seemed adequate.

“I’m sorry.” It was the two most lame words in the world, but nothing else seemed better. Rude shook his head.

“It’s all done now. I’ve moved on. It’s what I had to do.” Reno understood that. He had moved on from his past as well – he couldn’t carry it on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

“Thanks for sharing with me man.” Reno said, honestly meaning it. Rude seemed to feel his sincerity, because he finally looked at him. Reno wanted to reach up, pull off his shades, see what was really going on.

“Should have told you a happier story.” Reno grinned.

“No, I wanted to know this one. I’m glad you’re here now, and not in some alleyway.”

“Yeah, I guess it worked out in some twisted way.”

The Mercedes was filled with comfortable silence. For some strange reason, after Rude had opened up to him, Reno felt all the more closer to the larger man. Someday, if Rude asked, he would tell his story as well. Then they’d be one for one.


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Rufus had awoken in a tangled fit. He had been dreaming about gun-wielding monsters chasing him down never-
ending alleys. It had repeated itself several times, and in each version, they had splattered Tseng’s brains all over the walls before coming after him.

Too disturbed to fall back asleep, Rufus climbed out of bed, stretching his sore muscles. Opening his bedroom door, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the light in Tseng’s room still on. It had to be close to six am now.

Stepping out into the hallway, he knocked on the Turk’s door.

“Come in.” Tseng’s voice called from inside. Rufus opened the door, seeing Tseng sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed. Rufus stepped in, closing the door behind him. Somewhere in the night Tseng had pulled his sleek mane into a ponytail. Oddly enough, it looked good on him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tseng asked, placing all his files to the side. Rufus took that as an invitation to come sit with him. He crawled onto his futon, coming to sit across from him. Tseng was giving him his probing look – where everyone else was met with Rufus’ icy glare, Tseng could see right through him, into him. Rufus couldn’t scare him away like the others. Instead, his coal eyes cut into Rufus and seemed to delve into hidden places. He felt incredibly vulnerable in front of him.

“I was having nightmares.”

“Because you are stressed. Maybe you should…”

“Take some time off? You know I can’t.” Tseng nodded. He did know that. Now more than ever Rufus needed to keep up appearances.

“My body isn’t taking kindly to lack of sleep. I feel it everywhere, in my eyes, my mind, my body even aches.” What the hell. Rufus decided to save Tseng the aggravation of sifting through his head and just come clean with his problems. Tseng nodded though.

“When you’re not used to the heightened stress combined with the lack of sleep, it can do strange things to your mind and body. Very few people can control themselves when pushed to those extremes. I had to when I was first being trained. It’s uncomfortable to say the least.” Tseng says uncomfortable, like it’s all an inconvenience. To Rufus it was so much more than that. If it continued, he was going to go crazy.

“Sometimes concentrating on your energy sources puts you in a restful state.” Tseng offered. Rufus stared at him blankly. It must be a Wutaian thing.

“Like this.” Tseng leaned over, taking his hand in his own. He applied firm pressure to Rufus’ palm with his thumbs, pulling up through his fingers then moving down to his wrist.

“If you focus on your muscles and the energy flowing through you, then this can relax you enough to get a decent sleep.” Tseng moved the pressure up from his wrist to his elbow. Rufus was trying to concentrate, but this – this was distracting.

“As you concentrate on your energy, you will feel your body expelling the negative flow. Sometimes this can be a very emotional experience.” Tseng had moved onto his shoulders, neck, and down the other arm. Rufus was starting to feel what he was talking about – his body was releasing the stress, relaxing into his touch. His mind was also relaxing – he was starting to come apart slowly.

Tseng was close to him as he worked on his other arm, Rufus able to smell him. It was appealing, whatever his cologne was. It had faded from the day into the night, but it was still there. Faint, but still on his skin. Up close, Rufus could get a good look at him. Tseng wasn’t looking at his face thankfully, or he would’ve seen Rufus studying him very intently. Tseng was a handsome man, it was hard to believe he wasn’t taken. His features were very regal, from his pale skin, striking jet black hair and eyes, long patrician nose and lips that were full enough to be enticing, but not womanly.

He had a strong face and a strong body. His Turk uniform did much to hide his muscular frame, but here, where he was dressed in sweats and a tee, he was clearly built like a warrior. Broad shoulders, narrow waist – Rufus dragged his eyes away. He was embarrassed by himself.

These were the ultimate weaknesses he had tried to hide. His mother had discovered him early on in his youth, and made him ashamed to be what he was – gay. She had seen him watching the guards, the SOLDIERs, the Turks….and told him that he was disgusting, that what he was wasn’t acceptable, and if his father ever found out – he would be shit out of luck for a job at Shinra, for even living with them most likely. So he had pushed himself away, bundled his repressed being into a neat little package to be shipped to the back of his mind forever. Instead, this cold, unfeeling, bastard of a man came out to take control. It was the way he was going to be for the rest of his life, but now…all these things were coming back, slowly but surely, and he didn’t know what to do, how to deal with all of it.

If anyone saw him as he truly was… they’d lose respect for him. Tseng wouldn’t want to work for him anymore, he would think his life so little that it wasn’t worth protecting. Rufus was terrified, and he couldn’t even show that.

“Rufus, are you okay?” Tseng had taken his hands away some time ago. Rufus had been staring into space, no doubt his face reflecting his inner turmoil. Turning his attention back, he was surprised to be gazing into warm, dark eyes. It would be nothing to close the gap between them. Rufus nearly jolted. That was something he had to keep to himself, forever.

“I’m fine. That worked better than I thought. I’m exhausted.” Rufus made to stand, but not before Tseng lay a strong hand on his shoulder.

“You know you can talk to me. Don’t let all of this get to you. If you need to unload, do it. I’d be there.” Rufus wanted to tell him that the way he needed him was not the way Tseng intended. Standing up, he walked towards the door.

“Wake me up in two hours?” Tseng nodded, concern still playing over his features. Rufus closed the door, walking over to his room. He doubted he would get much sleep. Though Tseng’s touch was relaxing, it had woken something within him as well. Something he definitely didn’t want to pay attention to.




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