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Rogue and Zack 7
“You go from dying of a fever to freezing... You anemic, girl?” His free hand tugged a throw blanket down off the back of the couch, tucking it around her.
“No, it's just the Mako poisoning at work...” Her eyes fell to half mast, relaxed against him, her head nuzzled against his chest. Her face was warm. At least he couldn't see her blush from this angle.
He pulled up the TV Guide. “Alright. Tell me if you need anything. So, while we wait on the pizza, what do you want to watch? No chick flicks, please, I think I'd slip into a coma.”
“Drama queen. I'm the one that's poisoned.”
The rest of that night was spent as though they'd been friends forever. Talking and laughing easily... Rogue quickly forgot the discomforts of the poisoning. Zack was an amazingly charismatic guy once he got past his initial shy awkwardness. Apparently, Rogue's quick, sassy mouth was helping him out with that. In spades.
At ten thirty he brought her a pillow and a blanket thicker than the throw, tossing the blanket over her head and lightly thwaking her with the pillow. “Get some sleep. We get up early.” By the time she'd wormed her way out from under the blanket, he was headed into his room, already peeling out of his shirt.
Solid proof she'd been right. The man was all muscle. Built more lean than bulky, leaning more toward Sephiroth's body type than Angeal's.
Why the hell are you thinking about that?
Feeling more like a wayward orphan than ever, Rogue struggled to turn the couch into a bed, curling up under the blanket, closing her eyes. Left alone, the effects of the Mako were pronounced again. The aches hooked deep in every muscle, tore and pricked at her. It was maddening.
She shoved it under and went to sleep.
By the end of the week, her reaction to the Mako poisoning had subsided, and the next two months rolled by in utter boredom. Well, aside from being around Zack. On or off ShinRa grounds, he was fun. It was slow paced, all paperwork and filing until Zack finally pulled in a job.
A policing job, but still.
Now, Rogue found herself sitting in the lounge while Zack talked to Lazard, getting the details. It'd been, though originally Zack's idea, a mutual consensus that, until she made a name for herself, Rogue should stay as far as possible from the Director. Her mouth would only succeed in getting her fired, or worse, in Rogue's opinion, partnered with a more severe First Class.
And since she wanted to keep this happy little partnership more than she wanted to keep the job, she steered clear of Lazard and let Zack do the talking.
She still watched the silent scene in the office, wishing, not for the first time, that she had sharper ears and could hear what they were saying through the glass. Zack's back was to her, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other resting on Lazard's desk, his stance leaning, casual. Lazard's face she could see, and though he looked grave and intense with his slick hair and narrow glasses, she knew, deep down, that the man really didn't give a s**t. The distant look in his eyes told her as much.
She would’ve called him on it. She knew Zack would stay calm and polite. How they were getting along so well, she had no idea, but they were. Like opposite sides to the same coin. Zack’s friend Kunsel had started teasing them, telling Zack he was too nice to everyone, that Rogue was such an utter b***h, that they completed each other. That they should just hurry up and pass out the marriage invitations now, since it was gonna happen eventually. Zack’s reaction was to blush, but otherwise pretend he hadn’t spoken, Rogue usually challenged him to spar. Which he immediately declined.
Zack saluted and left the office, whole air relaxing the moment that glass door closed behind him. This job… It meant a lot to him, and, Rogue supposed, for him to leave a home like he’d had, it would have to. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was the job. He worked hard, all the time. Rogue admired that work ethic, because he made her look like a slacker in comparison.
Something inside cringed at that realization. She didn’t like looking lazy, like she was riding on her father’s reputation, but the simple fact was… She didn’t have to work as hard as he did to get similar results. She trained all the time with him, yes, but she didn’t have to kiss ShinRa’s collective a** to get attention. She was Genesis Rhapsodus’ daughter. To them, Zack was just any ordinary soldier, and he had to work for his promotion. She swore to herself that she would work every bit as hard as he did, just… Minus sucking up to the suits. No job was worth that.
He came over and sat next to her on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees while she lounged back, sprawled on the other half.
“You aren’t gonna like this.”
“Tell me something I don’t know? It can’t be worse than paper work... Or can it?”
Zack grimaced slightly.
“Policing guerilla activities within the city limits. Supposedly that anti-ShinRa group, AVALANCHE, is getting stronger. There’ve been word of bomb threats.” He sighed. “More dangerous than front line duty if you ask me. The Wutai people have their honor, they’d shoot you or stab you to your face. The rebels don’t have any such creed.”
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