Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 56: To Train a Vice President

On Monday morning, Reno walked out of the briefing after chatting animatedly with Cissnei for a few moments, and made his way towards his office. Rufus would be showing up in Turk headquarters any time now for their first training session, and the redhead had to admit… he was a little nervous. This was kind of a big deal, and he really didn’t want to fuck it up.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside, only to be greeted by a familiar face… followed by a hard swat to he back of the head.

“Ow! The fuck was that for?!” Reno yelled, glaring at his office mate.

“For being an idiot while I was in Junon,” Rude replied, straight-faced. The older rookie shook his head before he finally flashed him a faint smile and sighed teasingly. “Can’t let you out of my sight for five minutes…”

Reno snorted softly. “Fuck off,” he snickered.

“Seriously, though… You alright?”

“Yeah… I’m fine. Ward’s still bein’ a pain in the ass about puttin’ me back on full duty, though. Told me I had to gain at least four more pounds when I checked in this morning… but, I’m okay. How’d you even hear about what happened? You just got back.”

“Tres,” Rude replied with a shrug. “He hears about something, you know I hear about it, too. So… gonna get back to materia training once you’re cleared?”

Reno shook his head in the negative. “Nah. Turns out I can’t even use it for the most part, and Viridia says I’ll probably never get any better at it ’cause… I don’t have affinity? Or some shit? Whatever… Not worth the headache.”

“Hmph… Not really my thing either. Think I’ll just go back to using my fists once we’re through with the basics,” Rude grinned. “So did I miss anything important at the briefing?”

“… Not really. Tres says he’ll fill you in on today’s briefing after materia practice,” he replied, and then added with a mischievous smirk. “Oh… and I’m gonna be trainin’ Rufus this week.”

An eyebrow rose in curiosity from behind the dark lenses of Rude’s sunglasses. “Say what?”

The redhead laughed. “Yep. Tseng’s got me trainin’ the VP.”

Rude snorted softly. “Nice knowing you, Reno,” he chuckled.

“Ah, shut up. Worst case scenario, you’re helpin’ me hide a body tonight,” he snickered, and Rude shook his head.

“Sorry… Not available for body disposal tonight. Margaret and I have a date.”

“Yeah? Wanna hit up a club? Pretty sure I can find a date, too…”

“… Margaret’s still pretty ticked at you.”

“Geez… talk about holdin’ a grudge. Wasn’t even her apartment…” the redhead muttered. Rude laughed softly.

“I’m free tomorrow night, though, if you can keep from killing him at least that long,” he replied.

---

“I don’t care how. I want it by tomorrow,” Rufus said sharply as Reno made his way into the lounge a short while later. The vice president flipped his phone shut with a sharp click and looked up at the new arrival. “Ugh… It’s about time. What took you so long?”

The redhead mentally groaned. Well… this was off to a great start.

“The morning briefing ran a little longer than usual, sir,” he ground out, already annoyed. The Shinra heir snorted derisively and stood up.

“I can’t believe Tseng is making me begin this so-called training with you, of all people,” he muttered.

“Tch… the fuck crawled up your ass this mornin’?” Reno shot back before he could censor himself… and immediately regretted it. Obnoxious pain in the ass or not, Rufus was miles above him in terms of authority. He was the vice president of the company, for Ifrit’s sake. Saying something like that was just… goddamned stupid.

Rufus narrowed his eyes at the Turk.

“Oh, forgive me if I’m not in the best of moods at this precise moment,” he replied, his tone oozing condescension. “In case it’s slipped your notice, Turk, the situation with Wutai is rapidly deteriorating… and because of that accursed little island and their little propaganda campaign on the western continent, I am on the verge of losing the deal with Corel for the construction of the new reactor! Over half a year’s work… for nothing. Father is less than pleased.”

The redhead blinked in surprise. That… was kind of a good reason to be upset, all things considered.

No wonder Rufus was in a shitty mood. He didn’t know much about the Corel project himself, but Reno did know that it had been Rufus’ primary focus practically since he’d been named vice president. And he doubted Rufus wanted to disappoint his father any more than Reno himself wanted to disappoint Tseng. He actually felt a little sorry for Rufus, in that regard at least. Disappointing Tseng would be awful… but Reno had a feeling that if he ever did, Tseng would eventually forgive him and give him a chance to redeem himself. President Shinra, though… from what little interaction Reno’d had with him, he seemed to be a very demanding and exacting man. He wasn’t so sure Rufus would have things quite so good.

It was right about then that the young executive seemed to realize that he’d perhaps said more than he intended.

“Nevermind,” he scoffed, and the redhead thought he detected a faintly embarrassed note in his voice, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“… Uh… sure,” Reno replied. “Figured we’d start on the firing range. This way, sir.”

They boarded the elevator, and the rookie pressed the button for the thirty-third floor. Technically, Thirty-three was the domain of Building Security… but the Turks seemed to spend far more time there than the security teams did. In addition to the training hall and the gauntlet, the floor also housed the firing range.

“What is Tseng doing in Junon all week, anyway?” Rufus asked on the way down, his tone still somewhat snotty, but some of the earlier venom gone.

“Hmph… movin’ furniture, if it’s anything like the week, I spent down there,” the redhead snorted. “Veld’s settin’ up a branch office for the Turks. Remy’s gonna be runnin’ it.”

“Ah… Yes, I do vaguely recall hearing something about that. Though I hardly see the point. If Wutai does decide that open war with Shinra Company is preferable to negotiation, I’m quite certain my father will want to consolidate forces here in Midgar, and that will include the Turks. Junon can fend for itself quite easily. Midgar’s defenses are significantly less… robust.”

Reno was caught off-guard by that little bit of information. “You think he’d just make us drop the branch office? Just like that?”

Rufus rolled his eyes.

“Well, I certainly would and my father is no fool, nor does he have a death wish. Should Wutai attack…”

“… the company executives immediately become their top targets. Which means we’d be needed here… not in Junon,” Reno mused, not needing much encouragement to see what direction this was going. Tseng’s sudden desire to ensure that the Shinra heir have some training under his belt suddenly made a lot more sense, too.

Rufus smirked slightly.

“Hmph… You’re not as stupid as you look.”

The redhead smirked right back at him as the elevator doors opened.

“Think that might be the nicest thing you ever said to me, sir,” he said, stepping into the hall, “So… if Wutai’s comin’ for ya, I guess we better start teachin’ you how to not get yourself killed.”

---

Tseng grimaced slightly as he settled himself behind the unfamiliar desk. He didn’t know where Remy had found these chairs, but they were far from comfortable. Ignoring it, he pulled up the latest news reports on the computer in front of him. Things weren’t looking especially good between Shinra and Wutai, and though the company had done its best to keep it out of the media, more and more reports were slipping into the daily broadcasts. He didn’t like where this was heading. If tensions continued to grow, they might well be looking at an all-out assault on his homeland before the summer even arrived.

He wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about that. It had, of course, been a looming possibility for some time now. No matter how long he was away or how far he traveled, Wutai was still the land of his birth. It was where he’d grown up and where most of his family resided. He had many friends there, too, and he dearly loved his homeland.

But he dearly loved the Turks as well. One couldn’t rise as high in their ranks as he had without developing a deep connection to the team and, by extension, to Shinra Company… and he knew that, ultimately, his loyalty was to them. He had never questioned that.

But he did wonder… what would happen to his beautiful Wutai if things truly devolved into war? It was one the tiny nation could never win. Shinra was far too powerful. In the end, Wutai would be sacrificing – possibly everything – just to prove a point. It would be far better for them if they simply acquiesced to Shinra’s demands to build their reactors on the island. It would spare many of his fellow Wutaiians a needless death.

He blamed the country’s leadership, and Lord Godo’s stubborn pride. But then… it was a pride that many of his countrymen also shared. Even if Godo did back down, he wasn’t entirely convinced other factions would follow suit in a timely fashion.

At last, he sighed softly and tried to put it from his mind. There was, after all, still a chance that it wouldn’t come to that. Godo may have been stubborn, but, so far as Tseng was aware, he wasn’t suicidal. And President Shinra, he knew, wasn’t eager for a fight. War was expensive, and expenses cut into the company’s bottom line. Shinra would much rather be sold the land to build on, than take it by force.

“Gil for your thoughts?” a voice interrupted, and Tseng looked up to see Viridia making her way into the office. He smiled slightly.

“You do realized that our offices require command clearance to enter, don’t you?” he teased. Technically speaking… he should have been escorting her out. But the office wasn’t officially commissioned yet, and wouldn’t be until Veld had his final walkthrough next week. It was a loophole the Turk lieutenant chose to exploit for the moment.

Viridia smirked slightly and pointed to the set of narrow bars on her uniform’s sleeve… there was a new one.

“You’ve been promoted?” he asked, pleasantly surprised as he stood and rounded the desk, making his way over to her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were up for promotion?”

“I didn’t want to jinx it,” she replied, laughing softly. “You may now address me as Lieutenant Commander Viridia Nacelle, Base Security, Second in Command. The Commander finally saw fit to retire, which means both Quest and myself were promoted.”

He pulled her to him and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander,” he said, smiling.

“I expect you to congratulate me properly later tonight,” she replied, with a suggestive grin. Tseng chuckled softly.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Viridia giggled softly, before regaining her professional poise. “But… that’s for later. Right now, business. The base Captain wants to see you. We’ve intercepted some messages from Wutai, and could use a translator. Given the current climate… I thought it might be prudent to make absolutely certain that translator was someone the President could trust implicitly.”

“Of course,” Tseng replied, and followed her out of the office and down the hall.

“By the way… how’s Reno doing?” Viridia asked.

“Much better, now that he’s been all but banned from even touching materia for the foreseeable future. Though I must confess, seeing him like that was… unpleasant. He was essentially comatose for nearly eight hours.”

Viridia shook her head. “Poor thing. If he were one of mine, I’d be pretty POed at him, because he would have damn well known better, but… I don’t think he really understood just how draining materia use can be.”

“Which… is my own fault,” Tseng sighed. “And I can assure you that I will be more diligent with all of my rookies in the future.”

“Sounds like someone’s already given you the lecture I had in mind…” she snickered. “Was it Veld?”

“No. It was Dr. Ward. She was not pleased when I brought Reno to her after he collapsed. She’s still beingrather short with me, as a matter of fact, and probably will continued to do so until she has decided that Reno has made a full recovery.”

“I thought you said he was doing alright,” Viridia said, concerned.

“He is. Justinia is simply being a bit overprotective, in my opinion. He managed to lose quite a bit of weight over the last few weeks, which is likely directly attributable to the materia training and the fact that he was too exhausted to eat. She won’t clear him until he gains it back.”

“Hmph… Well, I can’t exactly say I blame her. That kid doesn’t have a pound to spare. Don’t you ever feed him?”

“Don’t you start in on me, too, Viridia,” Tseng groaned, “Reno eats enough to feed the entire team several times over. He is most certainly not being deprived in any way.”

The security officer giggled at his reaction as they boarded the elevator. “I was only joking…”

---

“… Ya know, you’re s’posed to hit the targets.”

“Continue antagonizing me,” Rufus said, grinding his teeth, “and my next target will be your head.”

The redhead glanced down the range at the paper target and its distinct lack of holes.

“Yeah… I’m not real worried.”

Rufus glared at the Turk, and set the weapon down on the counter in front of him before rounding on him. Reno quickly raised his hands in placating surrender.

“Geez, learn to take a joke, will ya? Look… you’re too fuckin’ stiff. Just… relax and breathe.”

To be honest, Reno hadn’t intended to spend so long on the range on Rufus’ first day of training, but… the asshole couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. It was only the fact that Reno really hadn’t been any better when he’d first started that had kept his frustration in check thus far. For the most part. Admittedly, a few snarky comments had made their way past his filter. But by and large, he was able to keep reminding himself that Rufus had never done this before. He couldn’t expect the executive to be a crack shot his first time out.

Rufus continued to glower at him for a moment before spinning back and resuming his previous stance with the handgun. Reno sighed.

“If that’s what passes for ‘relaxed’ with you, I’d hate to see ya when you’re really tense,” he snickered, and slid around behind the young executive. Rufus flinched slightly as the rookie adjusted his aim a bit, and let a hand rest on his elbow, coaxing it to bend and meeting with far too much resistance to be effective. “Tch… seriously? I’m not tryin’ to molest ya, for fuck’s sake. Loosen up a little.”

Rufus muttered something under his breath that Reno didn’t quite catch, but did relax enough to allow the redhead to reposition him further.

“… ‘Kay. Now try it again, and this time, pick a spot. Don’t look at the end of the gun. Look at the target. Look exactly where you want your shot to hit.”

The gun moved ever so slightly to the right as Rufus took aim. A moment later, it went off, and the blond boy’s entire body jerked with the recoil of the weapon.

“Huh… what’dya know. You can actually hit somethin’,” the rookie smirked. Rufus blinked as his gaze focused in on the perfect, round little hole in the paper a hundred yards down the range. It wasn’t anywhere near centered, but it wasn’t a bad shot, by any means.

“Ha!” came the unexpected cry of triumph from his student, though he very quickly cleared his throat and reclaimed his usual decorum. “Hmph… Perhaps now, you’ll take my threat of using your head for target practice seriously.”

“Yeah… Considerin’ that you’ve made one outta, like… a hundred shots… I think I’m pretty safe for now, sir,” he snickered. Rufus snorted loudly in contempt.

“For now, perhaps,” the Shinra heir replied, haughtily. “Once I’ve had some additional practice, however, you’ll be cowering like the pathetic little slum rat you are.”

Somehow, Reno couldn’t find it in himself to be insulted by that remark. He got the distinct impression that Rufus didn’t really mean half of it. It was nothing more than a brag. An annoying one, but hell… the son of a bitch had worked for it. Reno had half-expected the brat to spend the day slacking off and ignoring him. The fact the Rufus was actually trying made his success almost… gratifying.

“Yes, sir… I’m sure I will,” he replied, grinning. “But, uh… it’s almost noon. Think it’s time for a break.”

Rufus rolled his eyes. “I suppose you’re about to faint from hunger, then,” he sneered. The redhead resisted the urge to roll his eyes right back.

“Not quite, yet, sir… But after last week, if I skip lunch again, the Doc’s gonna skin Tseng alive for not makin’ sure I’m followin’ medical orders,” he replied, smirking slightly. The vice president narrowed his eyes at the rookie.

“What did you do to get Tseng into such difficulty?”

“Long story. And it ends with Tseng gettin’ reamed out by the medical staff for not preventin’ it, so… ya know. I’d kinda like to avoid causin’ him any more shit.”

Rufus eyed him for a moment or two, but finally set the weapon aside and folded his arms stubbornly over his chest. “Fine… I’ll continue on my own.”

“… Yeah, not gonna happen.”

“And just why not?”

“‘Cause there’s no fuckin’ way in hell I’m leaving you down here, unsupervised, with a loaded gun. The Doc might skin Tseng alive if she finds out I missed lunch, but Tseng’ll murder me for pullin’ somethin’ like that. So, yeah… we’re quittin’ for awhile.”

Rufus glared and drew himself up to full height, looking down his nose at the rookie.

“You have no authority to tell me what I can and can’t do, Turk. You are my employee, and you obey me. Don’t for a moment think I’ve forgotten what a screw up you really are. I suggest you learn your place, before I come to regret saving your worthless hide from Heidegger more than I already do!”

“Tch… yeah, well, right now I’m your teacher… so you do what I say or you can fuck off right back up to your office.”

“Watch… your… tone,” Rufus spat in reply, eyes narrowing dangerously. Reno was treading on uncertain ground. On one hand, Rufus was the goddamned VP of the company. On the the other… he was a spoiled as fuck little shit who could stand to be knocked down a peg or two. Though as much as the redhead would have loved to have been the one to do that, he doubted it would end well for him.

The smart thing to do would be be back down and let the son of a bitch have his way. And as much as doing the smart thing pained him in this instance… even as ticked off as he was rapidly becoming, he could still see that there was absolutely nothing to be gained from this beyond momentary satisfaction. With a frustrated growl, the rookie decided to swallow his pride.

“… Yes, sir,” he ground out. Rufus shot him an insufferably smug look.

“Now… apologize for your rudeness.”

“I’m sorry. Sir.” The words seemed to leave a foul taste in his mouth. What the hell did he have to apologize for? Rufus was the one being a dick.

“Hmph… that’s a good little lapdog. It’s high time someone taught you your place around here, slum rat. You’ve grown far too used to Tseng’s favoritism,” the older boy snickered, turning back to the range and picking up the gun. A split second later, it was leveled at the Turk. “For example… If I truly wanted to, I could shoot you right now, and nothing would come of it. That is the level of your importance compared to mine.”

The redhead froze, any retorts he may have had ready forgotten. This had just gone from petty bickering, to an actual threat… and at that range, even Rufus couldn’t possibly miss. Reluctantly, the rookie raised his hands in surrender. Rufus snorted in laughter and lowered the gun slightly.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. “If you’re the future of the Turks, I don’t have high hopes for them. You would think you could tell when it’s out of bullets.”

To demonstrate, he pulled the trigger… and outright screamed in shock when the gun went off. Reno, meanwhile, screamed for an entirely different reason. The weapon dropped to the ground with a thud, and the redhead vehemently kicked it well out of the vice president’s reach.

At first, the redhead was too surprised to completely register what had just happened. It was easily a full four seconds before instinct finally kicked in and his hand instinctively clamped down hard on his upper arm, where a dark stain was spreading down the sleeve of his jacket. He didn’t think the bullet had done much more than graze him… but still. It fucking hurt.

“You fucking shot me! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” Reno yelled, in a mixture of pain and disbelief.

“I-I… I… I didn’t… I…” Rufus stammered, as the color drained from his face. He stumbled backwards until he could go no farther, trapped against the divider for the lanes. Reno winced as he let up on the wound just long enough to slide the injured arm out of his jacket. The shirt sleeve underneath was saturated in crimson, and it didn’t go unnoticed when Rufus’ eyes widened at the sight.

Gritting his teeth, Reno released the pressure on the bloody mess a second time, to get a better look. It really wasn’t that bad. As he’d thought, he’d only been grazed. It was bleeding a little more than he would have liked, but it was far from life-threatening.

“Tch… Well, we’re definitely done now,” the Turk said, glaring angrily, “‘Cause now I gotta go fuckin’ explain to the Doc why I’m bleedin’ all over the place instead of eatin’ lunch.”

He walked over to where the gun had landed and snatched it up, before shoving it into one of the secure lockers and slamming it shut. The lock engaged automatically. He looked back at the still-frozen executive.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

With that, he stormed out of the range and headed for the elevator, awkwardly fishing his PHS out of his pocket as he did so.

“Ugh…” he groaned as the blood that coated his hand smeared over the keys. That was going to be fun to clean up. For now, though, he ignored it, and pulled up his contact list, dialing Rude.

“… Yeah?” his fellow-rookie answered.

“Uh… hey. You at lunch?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Ya mind goin’ down to the firing range and babysitting Rufus for a little while?”

Rude snorted in laughter. “Sick of him already?”

“No, actually, the stupid son of a bitch just shot me in the arm, and I’m headin’ down to Medical. Just… go and make sure he doesn’t do anything else while I’m gone, will ya?”

“… What?!”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s not that bad. I’m fine. Just go watch him, ‘kay? And… maybe don’t mention it to anyone else yet?”

“…”

“Look, I’ll deal with it, okay? But right now my fucking arm hurts and I’m leavin’ a trail of blood everywhere I go.”

“… On my way.”

With that, the call dropped and the elevator simultaneously arrived on the ninth floor. Reno pocketed his phone, and made his way towards the all-too-familiar door of the medical suite. He shouldered it open and peered inside, partially hiding behind the door. Ward was bustling about, refilling supplies. She looked up at the sudden arrival, and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s only noon…” she said pointedly. “I just saw yeh four hours ago. What in the wide world could yeh have already done ta bring yeh down here again taday?”

“Uh… Got shot?” he replied, somewhat sheepishly, slipping into the room.

“How in Shiva’s name… ?” she began, but then shook her head, and strode over to him, escorting her patient over to one of the exam partitions. She prized his fingers away from the injury and clucked her tongue as she examined it. “It’s superficial… but yer going ta need a few stitches. Take that shirt off and sit yeh down.”

As she turned away to gather what she would need to patch him up, Reno did as he was ordered, easing himself out of the bloodied garment and hopping up onto the table.

“Yer supposed ta be on medical restriction,” Dr. Ward said, crossly, as she disinfected the gash on his arm.

“Yeah, well… the firing range seemed like a pretty safe option. Didn’t count on there bein’ an idiot wavin’ around a gun he thought was unloaded.”

“And just where was Tseng during all this?”

“Geez, Doc… take it easy. Wasn’t his fault. The boss is in Junon all week.”

“Hmph,” was her only reply. “Alright… let’s get this closed up.”

She picked up a wicked-looking curved needle, and Reno’s eyes widened.

“What the everlivin’ fuck is that?” he breathed, scooting backwards several inches on the table he was perched on. Ward snorted softly and shook her head.

“Watch yer language,” she scolded him, “It’s a suture needle. Just how do yeh think stitches go in? Magic? Hold still… this’ll only take a minute or two.”

A minute or two seemed like an eternity, and after the first stitch, the redhead was forced to look away. He just couldn’t watch that. It was far worse than getting an injection. Worse still, he could feel the thread moving slowly under his skin as she pulled the edges together. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant sensation. Thankfully, it was soon over, and Ward gently wrapped his upper arm in clean, white gauze.

“There yeh are, my little headache,” she said at last. “Just keep it clean, and change the dressing once a day, and come back next week so I can check on it. I wouldn’t think the stitches would need ta stay in much longer than that.”

“Heh… Thanks, Doc,” he said, hopping down. She cast him a rather stern look, as she held up a yellow sucker. He reached for it and she quickly snatched it back.

“And if yeh haven’t already, go and eat some lunch,” the doctor added, before finally relenting and handing the treat over.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m goin’ right after I take care of one last thing, Doc.”

---

When Reno returned to the firing range, Rude seemed to be alone.

“Oh, great… now where’s that little shit run off to?” he asked, as he made his way over to his friend. The other Turk cast a glance over his shoulder, and Reno spotted his assignment for the week sitting quietly, and looking more than a little forlorn, on one of the long benches on the far side of the range. Reno popped the sucker out of his mouth and gestured at their superior.

“The fuck’d you do to him?” the redhead queried. Rude just shrugged.

“Nothing. Found him like that.” He eyed the other rookie’s bloody sleeve as Reno bent down to retrieve the jacket he’d left behind. “You okay?”

Reno carefully shrugged the garment on, careful not to aggravate the injury.

“Tch… Yeah. Like I said. Wasn’t that bad. You can go back to eatin’, if you want. I got this.”

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Depends… You bringin’ somethin’ decent to drink when you come over tomorrow night or are ya bringin’ the cheap shit?” he replied, grinning slightly. Rude snickered and headed for the door.

“Better be a good story. Sato raised his procurement fee,” he called back to his friend. Once he was gone, Reno made his way across the range, stopping in front of the vice president and folding his arms over his chest.

“So where were we?” he asked, sticking the lollipop back into his mouth again, and feigning an attempt at remembering. “Oh, right… you fucking shot me! What the hell?!”

Rufus suddenly looked up at him, an obvious sense of panic apparent on his face.

“Don’t tell Tseng… please…”

“Pretty sure he’s gonna notice the nice big hole in my arm whether I say somethin’ or not,” Reno snorted. The vice president ducked his head, and the rookie paused. This was the first time he’d ever really seen Rufus… cowed… and it took him a moment to remember that, at least in some ways, Rufus regarded Tseng in much the same way he did. As a mentor, though on a very different level than the redhead thought of him. As a guardian. As someone he looked up to.

And that realization reminded him of all the times he’d done something indescribably stupid he was certain Tseng would never forgive him for. There was also the little matter of Tseng having trusted the redhead with this assignment in the first place. It didn’t exactly make him look good, either.

He mentally groaned at the thought of what he was about to do.

“You get one pass with me,” the rookie said, “So… You yank that stick outta your ass so we can actually do this training shit, and I’ll keep my mouth shut. But if you ever pull somethin’ like that again, Tseng’s gonna hear every Ifrit-forsaken detail. That clear?”

Rufus was silent for a few seconds, still avoiding Reno’s gaze. After awhile, however, he seemed to compose himself, and stood, holding a hand out to the rookie.

“Consider it a deal,” he replied. Reno smirked and shook the proffered hand.

“You’re also buyin’ me lunch,” he quickly added, “And since I know you can afford it, I’m not gonna be a cheap date.”

~end chapter 56~