Redefining Drunk and Disorderly

All things considered, Reno felt it had been a rather productive, successful night. He stood as he heard the key turning in the cells lock, brushing a bit of what he hoped was dirt from his pants, and smiled at the combined scowls of his jailer and his boss.

“Morning, Tseng.”

Tseng’s scowl deepened, causing new and interesting geological formations to burrow their way through his forehead. “You’re a mess, Turk.”

“Aw, don’t worry about me. None of its mine.” Reno passed a hand over the dress shirt hanging open (most likely due to a sad lack of buttons) and bloody from his lanky torso.

“He’s yours. Please get him out of here.” The local law enforcement looked considerably more ferocious than earlier, courtesy of the bruises Reno had left along his left cheek in a bit of drunken camaraderie.

“Give me a second to gather my things.” Reno made a show of looking about the empty cell before shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering out.

Apart from a license to break faces at whim and a damn fine paycheck, being a Turk had its perks. Legal processing involved frowning at anyone who even thought about mentioning paperwork, waving with friendly insolence at anyone with a badge, and walking out the front door.

The sun was just starting its daily attempt at peering through Midgar’s murk, doomed to failure but still determined to give it a shot. The morning air smelled of a familiar, if not pleasant, mix of oil, soot, excrement, fresh bread. Reno had ambitious dreams of adding coffee to that homey assortment of aromas as soon as he was able. Maybe right after a shower…

“Did you honestly offer to…autograph the mug shot?”

“It was a good picture.” Reno smirked, noticing how the corners of Tseng’s mouth were trying desperately to remain pointing down. It wouldn’t do for him to be amused by his subordinate’s questionable antics, now would it? “Did they get a report done by the time you got there?”

“Of course. I let you sit for a couple hours.” Tseng stepped over a puddle of dubious origins and let himself into the car.

Reno settled into the passenger seat, sinking back with a content sigh. So much more comfortable than that holding cell…

“About that report…” Tseng cleared his throat as he started the car, needing to keep his eyes on where they were going an excellent excuse not to look at Reno. “Was the fishing line and duct tape necessary?”

“Yup.”

“I see.”

Having effectively bothered Tseng into an uncomfortable silence, Reno decided to catch a nap, considering his work day started as soon as he got back out of the car. Reno indulged in a rather exaggerated yawn, settled his left hand in a rather non-regulation part of Tseng’s right thigh, and closed his eyes.

Somewhere in the middle of a wonderful dream brawl, Reno realized two things. One, the car had stopped, and two, Tseng seemed inclined to engage in some fraternization in the ShinRa parking garage. Well, that was incentive to wake up.

When the hell had Tseng managed to tie his hands together? With Tseng’s favorite tie. And said tied appendages were bound to the steering column.

Sore neck and shoulders be damned. If Tseng was willing to sacrifice his favorite office accessory, Reno was more then willing to play for now.

After all, he could always harass a backrub out of the man later.

Fucking in a car was part creativity and part defiance of basic physics, two things Turks were rather good at. No wonder the secretary that had the luck to wander past dropped her purse when Reno managed to gain the upper hand temporarily. That did leave his bare ass pressed against the passenger side window, and his head soundly in Tseng’s lap, but no one was complaining.

Least of all the secretary.

Unfortunately later, when Rude asked what the hell had happened to him, Reno could only claim that most of the blood wasn’t his. Tseng had been rather irritated after all.

No one had bothered to ask Tseng where the blood on the corner of his collar had come from. Most likely they didn’t really want the answer.