Elevator Confessional

***A/N: This was both a very difficult and extremely satisfying story to write. I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I did shaping it from a notion to a reality. Please let me know what you think. I poured my soul into this.***

"Elevator Confessional" by Ser Leigh

**Rufus***


I leaned my head back against the elevator wall, drawing my knees to my chest. I had been stuck in that abominable lift for an hour and the company had done nothing to improve my mood. I was not at all happy about being paired by a mechanical malfunction with someone about as talkative as a rock.

If I was lucky, I'd fall asleep, waking up just in time for the doors to open. Perhaps with a bit of rest I'd be slightly more prepared to confront my father—tell him off once and for all. “Who I choose to sleep with is my business...” I muttered venomously.

Even with my eyes shut I could feel the eyebrow raise. “None of your affair, Turk...” I said quietly, slitting an eye to peer at my temporary cell mate. A slight smirk graced his face, showing his amusement. “Is something funny?”

Rude's expression quickly faded to match the impassiveness of his dark sunglasses. The light glinted on the lenses almost chillingly, as if they were two black searchlights, peering into the depths of my soul.

“What affects Tseng affects us all.” he spoke for the first time, his voice cold and emotionless. I was impressed. All this time I had thought only Tseng had mastered that art.

“What are you implying?” I directed my gaze fully upon him now, wondering where this was going.

“He's not himself.”

“You think I'm throwing off the team dynamic, is that it?” I laughed wistfully.

Rude merely nodded his assent, his face a mask of indifference. I sighed looking up at the ceiling. He was right, I knew. Tseng had been the world to me. More than just a lover—Tseng had been my life raft in the halls of ShinRa, keeping me afloat when the world seemed hell-bent on drowning me. Without him I most likely would have long since taken my office window for an exit, becoming nothing more than just another crimson stain on the Midgar streets.

I had fallen madly in love with Tseng—something I had confessed to no one, not even the handsome Wutaian whose face filled my nights and graced my dreams. But there are no secrets in ShinRa—and my father had found out all the same. I shook with silent rage, remembering the smug look on his face—the sheer arrogance and anger twisting his features as he yelled at me to break of the relationship. If I refused...Tseng was to be killed—after all, who would truly miss a Turk?

I was destroyed. The one thing that had been good in my life and that bastard who dared to call himself my father had taken that away from me, as well. The hurt in Tseng's eyes had become the centerpiece of my nightmares. Days later, the complete lack of emotion in his “yes, sir...” threatened to shred what little sanity I had left—it tore me asunder each and every time I heard it. I hated that monstrosity who hid behind his desk for what he had made me do. And I was determined to make him pay for it.

At that moment an odd notion occurred to me and, try as I might, I could not push it from my mind. I loosened my grip on the manila parcel I had been carrying and tossed it to Rude, who caught it deftly. He opened it slowly and pulled the glossy sheets from the nearly stuffed envelope. As he stared at the contents, his eyebrows raised.

Reno had confronted me in the hallway the day before. Actually he had all but pulled me into his office, demanding to know what I had done to Tseng. What I had done to his friend. I told him, then. I told him everything. The redheaded Turk's eyes flashed with murderous intent as he lit a cigarette. We would take my father down, he told me—hard and fast. Reno was aware of some of my father's more bizarre fetishes, but for his loyalty to ShinRa he had said nothing. A loyalty I knew had been irrevocably shattered as I watched the lines in his face, twist with fury.

The Turk followed my father, wishing to catch the old man at his most vulnerable—with his whores at the Honeybee Inn. One evening and two rolls of film later, the sordid scandal had been documented far and above my expectations. The negatives were beyond incriminating—they were capable of destroying his presidency. I had been on my way to deliver those to my father. I was going to relish the horror on his face when I told him that if I even so much as suspected that he was interfering with my personal life those photos would be leaked to every news agency in Midgar. Only that hadn't happened. Instead, the last forty-five minutes had oozed by painfully slowly as I sat in an unmoving metallic box—still as death.

At first I had thought that the malfunction was only a minor glitch and that the lift would continue moving again at any second. But now I knew that wasn't the case. I didn't dare use the emergency phone. While my father might not be heavy-handed enough to send one of his assassins after me, an elevator plummeting to the basement was a different matter entirely. And far easier to cover up as a tragic accident.

Rude had made no objection when I had decided to wait it out. Indeed he had barely spoken at all, sitting in the corner quietly, his surface thoughts obscured by his black shades.

The Turk resealed the packet and extended it at arm's length. I quickly returned it to its place beside me, ready to be collected at a moment's notice once the small matter of our mechanical incarceration was resolved.

What was I going to say to Tseng, I wondered. What could I possibly say after ripping his heart out—even if all that had been said had been a lie? I would tell him the truth. I would show him the pictures. And I would pray to God that he listened to me. I would get on my knees and beg, if I had to. And what a picture that would make—Rufus ShinRa, heir to an empire, prostrate before a hired assassin, pleading for forgiveness. I snorted. It was an empire I had never wanted.

When the elevator lurched to life, I gritted my teeth. I climbed to my feet, grabbed the envelope, and straightened my jacket. It was show time.

Once the doors opened I walked forward purposefully toward the double-doors leading to my father's office. His guards were lounging out front as usual, sub-machine guns slung over their shoulders.

“President ShinRa is not to be disturbed...” the captain on duty held out his hand.

“Do you know who I am?” I growled. “Let me pass at once!” I would not be denied this, not by some nameless grunt on a power trip.

“And did you hear what I said?” the trooper took a step forward in an attempt to intimidate me. “The orders came from the President himself. No. One. Enters.”

It was then that Rude put a hand out in front of my chest as he moved past, stopping face to face with the petulant guard.

“Move...” he said simply. The trooper was at least three inches taller than the Turk but he acquiesced all the same, jumping to the side of the door and directing his wide-eyed compatriots to do the same. Rude is a very imposing individual when he chooses to be. I can see why Tseng speaks so highly of him.

Rude kicked the massive doors open and I followed through, close behind. A bit over the top, I thought, but I wasn't about to admonish him for the dramatic entrance.

“What is the meaning of this?” President ShinRa roared, his chair spinning toward the disturbance.

My eyes burned as they fell on Heidegger, seated in the chair near him. “Get out...” I told the fat executive, flicking my gaze back to my father.

“How dare you—do you thin—”

“GET OUT!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, sending the morbidly obese man into a panic. He practically tripped over himself as he ran. I never raise my voice. He knew I meant business. Rude took up a position watching the door, his hands intertwined below his waist.

“Do you think you can just barge in here, you little shit?” my father snapped, fingers digging into the edge of his desk. “I will not tolerate this insolence.”

“Oh, I think you will...” I threw down the heavy envelope down onto his desk. His eyes shown with fury but he opened it anyway, his curiosity getting the better of him. His eyes widened in shock as he dropped a photo onto his desk, his hands shaking.

“If you ever...come between me and Tseng again. If I ever even think you want to interfere—or if you're stupid enough to try something—you'll be finished.” I held the image of Tseng's wounded expression in my mind as I spoke, spitting the words out by the end. Never again. Never again would I hurt the one I loved.

The mighty ShinRa President sat cowering in his chair, horrified beyond words. I don't think his mouth could have opened any wider, not even after the shouting began and the sound of gunfire filled the hallway outside.

For the second time in but a few short moments the double doors burst open. In walked General Sephiroth, makou green eyes blazing just as surely as the flames within my blue orbs. Blood dripped from his Masamune, his forearm extended toward the corporate head.

Rude drew his gun and I shook my head. I wanted to see where this was going.

“You left me there...You told him to kill me...” the silver haired man's voice rasped as he strode toward the desk.

“N-No...I never...”

“QUIET!” Sephiroth yelled, lowering his sword . “You will be silent, Mr. President. I've only come to pay my dues.” the swordsman's eyes twinkled as he drew his sword arm back. My father screamed as the massive blade tore through his chest. I shuddered as I watched in stunned silence. The General released his grip on his sword and the President tipped forward over his desk, gurgling as his life left him.

I didn't know whether to be mortified or gleeful, truthfully. Sephiroth had just done what I would never have even dreamed to attempt. What my father had probably reserved for me. But what was he to do next?

The taller man gripped the sides of his face, his features contorting as if he were wrestling with some inner demon. “Go...” he croaked, a brief glint of sanity returning to his eyes. “Can't hold back...much longer...She wants....Blood... We want...Revenge.”

I didn't need to be told twice. Nor did Rude, apparently, as we bolted for the exit, not stopping until we had rushed to the floor below (taking the stairwell this time) and were safely barricaded inside my office.

I leaned against my desk as we caught our breath wordlessly. One problem had been solved, but another had presented itself. I didn't want to head the company. I...he wasn't supposed to die yet. Not for years...Maybe then I would have been ready, but now? What the hell was I going to do?

“He would have double crossed you, in the end...” Rude said sagely, slipping his gun back inside his jacket. The fact that he was right didn't make it any easier a prospect to deal with. But I couldn't think about any of that now. All I could think about was Tseng. And how through a completely mind-blowing event, nothing would stand between us again. If he even still wanted me...

Rude put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I couldn't help but smile. At least he thought it would work out. I might actually have a chance, then.

“Mr. ShinRa, are you all right?” a frantic voice yelled from the other side of the door. Rude crossed the short distance to the door and drew his gun, opening the door slowly. A small cluster of SOLDIERs had taken up position in front of the door, the relief on the faces evident when they saw I was unharmed. “Your father, sir—”

“I know...” I said simply, closing my eyes. It was best I try to appear shook up—not too far from the truth—there would be less questions that way.

“Tseng, sir. He told us to find you.”

“Send him to my office...” my heart was pounding. Butterflies were rampaging through my stomach as I gripped the desk for support, lest some chasm open beneath my feet, wrenching me into the abyss. The seconds ticked by slowly as I waited, practically holding my breath.

And then there was Tseng, sliding into view of the doorway, eyes fixed on me and out of breath.

“Thank you, Rude...” I said to the bald Turk, my voice sincere. The blue-suited assassin inclined his head and smiled, walking by my desk to scoop up the manila envelope that lay there. I stared at his back in shock. I hadn't even seen him take the photographs from my father's office—I had thought they were still there. A “man of expertise,” indeed.

Tseng entered the office slowly, his face unreadable as he closed the door quietly, walking towards me. I closed my eyes. I couldn't bear to see that hurt expression on his face that I knew was coming.

“I...I thought I'd lost you...” he said softly, slipping his arms around me. I felt the world stop spinning. After all that time apart—after those painful weeks of torturous distance—the safety I felt in his arms was overpowering.

“I am...I am so sorry...” I cried, burying my face in his shoulder. The raven-haired Turk held me close, stroking my hair.

“Reno told me everything...” he lightly kissed my neck.

“Then—” I sniffed, my words coming with difficulty.

“I love you too much, to let that stand in the way...” Tseng gently lifted my chin and kissed my tears away.

Loved me too much...My already watery eyes swelled with joy as he pressed his lips to mine, kissing me tenderly.

“I love you, too...” I whispered, running my hands along his back. Tseng's brown eyes shone when he heard the words. He tightened his embrace, already very close to squeezing the life from me. I didn't mind, though. I would endure anything to be in his embrace. I smirked, laughing softly when i saw a familiar glaze coat his eyes. “Lock the door...” I couldn't help but grin as I nipped at his earlobe gently.

“Yes, sir...” he smiled, the warmth of the words melting my heart. I knew everything would be alright as Tseng engaged the electronic lock, hurrying back to wrap me in his arms yet again.

Managing the company was not as arduous a hurdle as it had first seemed and whatever unforeseen obstacles presented themselves down the road..didn't seem so big, not anymore. None of that was important, really. I sighed happily as my gorgeous Turk lowered me onto the bed. We had each other. And that was all that mattered.


***FIN***