raspberryturk | Room 429, Thursday Evening

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Room 429, Thursday Evening

Tseng glanced again at the letter he'd received, a few days prior. It had been weighing heavily on his mind. The situation with Reno had perhaps been worse than he had realized. Astonishing, as he had imagined it to be fairly difficult.

No use starting that again tonight. In exchange for a translation of Reno's innermost thoughts, the girl had demanded payment. An assignment for Reno. There had been little work for any of them, of late, and certainly too small to justify calling Reno in from his position at school. But there was a folder now on his desk that seemed promising, and Reno's particular talents could be of use. Besides, Tseng always paid his debts.

Perhaps he also had a perverse sense of humor. He lifted his phone and dialed one of the numbers committed to his memory.

Reno was Reno. Which meant, of course, that Reno was bored. And a bored Reno was never a good thing, as Mako was learning. Or, to be more accurate, as Mako was failing to learn. Bored Reno, after all, had the laser pointer out, and was using it to make the poor ferret run in circles. Or trip in circles. Or trip in rather oblong shapes which were intended to be circles.

Mako had never been very coordinated.

When Reno's cell rang, in a snap-and-tap sort of beat that could only mean another Turk was phoning him, the pointer dot jerked to the side while Reno dug for his phone and Mako went gracefully careening into the wall.

"Yo!" It was possible Reno sounded entirely too excited to be getting a phone call from Gaia at all.

"Reno," Tseng said pleasantly. There was something comfortably familiar about this, wasn't there? To be perfectly sentimental about it, perhaps Tseng missed his errant Turk. Life was far too quiet, in his absence. "How is your schedule?"

"What, at school?" Reno reached to scoop up the ferret, who had settled up against the wall in an effort to attempt to gnaw the dot off of it. It wasn't working. "Class Fridays and Mondays, I work Sundays, but the bosses are nuts, please tell me you're callin' with a job, damn you."

No. He wasn't desperate. Much.

Tseng allowed the silence to fill for a moment. Reno might be able to hear his smirk, over the telephone lines. "I am calling with a job."

"WOO!" And no, Reno hadn't bothered to pull the phone away from his mouth when he did that. Was he supposed to? "What kinda job? When? Where? What do I need to bring along? Pay's good? Asses to kick? Booze to drink? More asses to kick?"

Reno needed details, here.

"Some valuable merchandise had gone missing," Tseng said, opening the folder again. "The thief or thieves you may deal with as you wish. The client is not concerned with revenge. The primary objective is to retrieve what has been stolen. The items may no longer be in the thieves' possession. It is imperative that the merchandise be returned in pristine condition. Undamaged. Unmarked."

Tseng was, of course, omitting some of the details for the sake of time. Such as the name of his client. The Gold Saucer.

"And you're askin' me to get somethin' back in one piece." A pause. Reno wasn't really the most gentle of the Turks, by any means. "I always liked a challenge, zoto. I'll bring some bubble-wrap or somethin'."

If there was one thing that Reno had learned from Fandom, it was that if you didn't want something busted, bubble-wrap it.

"Bubble-wrap will not be required," Tseng assured his underling. "None of the merchandise is quite so delicate as that. Other skills of yours recommended you for this mission."

Such as the ability to run at high speeds for very long distances, and to withstand a beating. Some of the merchandise might fight back.

Sometimes, Tseng thought that he was very funny.

Reno quirked an eyebrow at that while Mako attempted to gnaw his thumb through at the knuckle.

"Other skills? Uh. If you say so?" He considered that for a moment. "I'll be doin' some runnin', will I?"

It wasn't that Reno didn't do other things besides running, but that really was the one thing he did better than anyone else that had ever joined the Turks. Moving like a guy always stuck on 'Haste' was sort of a notable skill, after all.

"I believe it's possible you might," Tseng said. Which, as Reno should well know, meant that he was in for a work-out. "I had hoped that you would be able to begin sooner than Tuesday, however."

The manager at the Gold Saucer was becoming impatient. No one could bet on chocobo races if all the prize chocobos were gone.

Pffft. The first job Tseng had called Reno with in months, and Tseng thought he was going to put it off for a few days?

"I can get a portal out there by tomorrow afternoon, yoto. Keep supper warm for me, would ya, sweetheart?"

Yes, Reno thought that he was funny, too.

"I believe that's Rude's department," Tseng said lightly before hanging up his phone.

He was impressed with himself. Not a single laugh. Not even considering that he was sending Reno down to hunt missing chocobos across the countryside. On foot.

The manager of the Gold Saucer had warned him that the chocobos enjoyed playing with any who came in direct contact with them. And that "playing" usually took the form of kicks to the face.

Reno was going to have an interesting weekend.

When Reno hung up his own phone, his first course of action was to let out a triumphant "WHOOP!"

And his second course of action, naturally, was to put down the ferret and start making the checklist. Gil, materia, potions, his EMR, booze. The essentials.

This was going to be an awesome weekend.

[Open! Tseng was provided by the ever-awesome

the_merriest! Last post I'll be making in Alberta, yay! Rikku's thread is last chronologically, because I said so.]

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He watched the soda can bounce harmlessly to the floor again. And he raised an eyebrow. And he looked up at her, tilting his head a little.

"Theoretically speakin'?" His lips twitched slightly. "Sounds to me like you don't wanna lose him. Neither way. Can't let go, can't stand to see him get taken away. Seems to me like you can't make up your mind, either. So talk to him. I mean, don't just tell him he ain't allowed. That ain't gonna accomplish shit. Tell him you don't wanna let go. But tell him you're afraid of them takin' him and usin' him, too. I don't know if he understands how much it'd kill you if he got hurt because of your job, zoto."

Serious, kind of mushy conversation.

Weird.

They were having a serious conversation, without getting drunk, wrecking violence, or inflicting chaos upon the unsuspecting public first.

Weiiiiiiiiiiiiiird.

"And we're back to the talking," she sighed, resisting the urge to bang her head against the nearest bit of furniture. "I promised him I'd at least think about it, but the moment I give him an inch, he's just going to push more. It's Romeo."

Really, that said it all right there.

"What you two gotta do is learn where to draw a line that'll work for the both of you right up front, and then you make sure that line sticks. Sayin' 'no' right up front ain't workin', clearly. But you want to give him an inch, don't you? Or else you would'a dumped his ass and ran for the hills by now," Reno noted. "What you gotta do here and now is figure out exactly how many inches it is you wanna actually give him, and if that ain't enough for Romeo, you're gonna have to learn to compromise."

A pause.

"And make damn sure that whatever it is that he's aimin' for, he can handle."

"I should run for it," she muttered. "I can't decide if I'm being too stupid or too selfish by wanting to make this work. I'm leaning towards selfish."

"The sad thing is; Romeo's the easy part." Yurika shoved her hair back out of her eyes and gave him a helpless look. "The real fun starts if I try to fast talk this past Juliano."

'Fun' might be a relative term.

"You're bein' human," Reno replied, running his hand through his hair. "Ain't no crime in that."

It took a lot for Reno to admit as much.

"What are you afraid's gonna happen once Juliano gets wise to it, anyhow?"

He had theories. But Reno hated his theories sometimes. Maybe hers would be less troubling.

"He's already politely implied to Romeo that it might be best if I return to Japan alone post-graduation," Yurika complained, hauling herself off the floor long enough to go flop down by Reno. There. Closer was better. "He did the same to me, too. Politely veiled threats, but still a threat."

"It's not what I'm afraid is going to happen, Reno, it's what I know can happen. People who cross SOLOMON have a habit of vanishing." She shrugged one shoulder. "We might be the White Hats, but that doesn't mean we're nice."

"White Hats, Dark Suits, all runs together," Reno agreed with a sigh. And then, after another moment's thought, he glanced her way. "Chuckles is worried about Romeo gettin' in the way, is he? So, what if he's not crossin' SOLOMON?"

"I think he's more worried that he'll be a distraction than anything else," she mused. "And somehow I don't see Romeo taking 'Sorry, honey, I'm working for the next two weeks, but I'll come by next month,' particularly well."

"Which is the other part of the reason I don't want him following me just for me. If he doesn't have something to engage him, he's not going to be happy."

"So find him somethin' to do in Toyko that he can be passionate about," Reno stated.

As though it was so easy.

"... What is he passionate about? Aside from girls an' pool, I mean?"

Sometimes, Reno wasn't the greatest of best friends.

That earned him another half-hearted swat in the direction of his leg.

"He suggested teaching English, or doing outreach work through a church," Yurika said dryly. "Or going to school, but his Japanese is nowhere near good enough yet for that, unless the classes are in English."

Romeo the Missionary. That still made her giggle, if she thought about it.

"Outreach work?"

Reno kind of didn't know the phrase.

"So, if you can get him out there and get him all absorbed in this schooly, churchy stuff, maybe you two stand a better chance?"

"Outreach work," she confirmed. "You know, feeding the elderly, caring for the sick, building houses, all that self-less stuff, with the added bonus of religion and God and stuff on top of it."

Yurika was getting better at ~~staying awake during services~~ understanding the basics of Romeo's faith, but she still had a long way to go.

"He needs some kind of hobby, or I might kill him myself before the first month is out."

Reno considered.

"They probably got homeless people in Tokyo, huh?"

That seemed like an outreach-worthy sort of cause, to Reno.

"The government likes to pretend they don't exist, but they're there," Yurika replied. "I'm sure he could find a church group to do missionary work with, he's already researched a few, but I don't want him to do something he's not passionate about just to stay in the same city as me."

"The government always likes to pretend they don't exist," Reno mused. "Bastards."

He shrugged.

"At least he's doin' the research, right? I mean, is there anywhere else on the planet that you figure he can find somethin' to be passionate about? Things he can make a life around, I mean. Not just the usual go to Mexico, get drunk, hang out on the beach stuff. I mean... Somethin' tells me Romeo'll be happy so long as he's got two things. His girl, and somethin' that'll keep him feelin' like he's makin' his mark in a place, you know?"

Yurika grinned and swatted at him again. "You calling my man easy?" she drawled, tone making it clear she was just teasing. "I don't know. I do think he'd make a good teacher of some sort, or working with kids in general, but I don't know in which subject. That's up to him to decide."

The smirk she shot him was pure mischief. "How do you think he'd do tutoring poetry to pre-teens?"

"Limericks and haikus and them sonnet things?" Reno cracked a grin and shrugged his shoulders. "If he's plannin' on teachin' them English, or learnin' their language or whatever, that kinda thing seems right up his alley, don't it?"

And then he was laughing.

"Preschool, zoto."

"Romeo Montague's Preschool: poetry, tacos, and firearms," she giggled, before her eyes went wide. "Oh god, his guns. He can't keep his guns, they're illegal in Japan!"

"They're what?" Reno's own eyes went wide at that. "He'd go absolutely batshit nuts! What the hell do the cops out there use, if they don't got guns?"

It was difficult to, you know, take down criminals who didn't much care about the legality of the weapons they were using if you were trying to beat them off with sticks.

"I've got a permit for mine, since I'm technically an officer of the law," she explained. "But the permits for civilians to get them are a bitch. He's going to have to sit through all the gun regulation classes, in Japanese, pass a marksmanship test, and apply for and pass the air-pistol test before they'll let him register for a regular pistol. Buying ammo requires a whole mess of other permits!"

Welcome to Japan, Romeo. The paperwork is a bitch.

There was a long, thoughtful pause.

"Unless he becomes a cop?"

Yurika just glared. "He is not becoming a cop. The last thing I need is dealing with the conflict of interest if Romeo works for the Tokyo PD."

"What, you guys don't get along with the local constabulary?" Reno's lips twitched upward faintly. "Knowin' Romeo, he'd work his way up the ranks in no time flat, and then he'd start tryin' to make things easier for you guys out there. How can that be a bad thing, yoto?"

"The SNT-J doesn't get any cases unless it's clearly their jurisdiction," she explained. "So, the local cops get pissy, and sometimes tamper with evidence to keep us out of the investigation. Our chief used to be a cop, and smooths over a lot of the stuff, but it's not the best working relationship."

"Besides, he wouldn't exactly be trusted, if it got out that he was sleeping with one of the 'Raven's Flat Spooks.'" Yurika rolled her eyes. "Those dark coats and suits do not help our public image."

"Oh, like I don't know about what a dark suit'll do for the way you look in the eye of the public, yo." Reno nodded a little, and then sighed and pulled himself to his feet. "Okay, so scratch the cop thing. But it ain't like he don't have a grasp on the way the streets work, right? Guy's tasted real life, just like the rest of us."

A pause.

"Even if his shades are a little more rose-colored than most, zoto."

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