plate_builder | [Open Post]

Rufus had also technically called himself bull-headed, so there was that." He starts to move towards the kitchen area, but doesn't stop talking. "What voice did you need to hear?"

No reason not to be blunt as Rufus has already received a message from the man.

"Veld," he answers simply. He owed the man as much as the man owed him, so it was pretty par. "He told me I was an idiot. Which on top of Reno and you and Elena and... Well, his is a bit firmer of a voice."

Ah, Veld. The man was smart, reasonable, and important to the Turks. He also should have been dead long ago, and so far as the former president knew before his death at Sephiroth's sword, was. Really, helping him stay alive all those years ago had many reasons, and it was likely Veld knew them all. He also knew about what happened after the fall of Shinra, had assisted the Turks in locating their missing president. He certainly would know much about the blond.

As to a firmer voice, Rufus chuckles. "Kind of like a father, yes?"

"Yes," Reeve agrees. With that he moves to pick up one of the plates, disposable, and starts to fill it with roasted potatoes and some slices of well cooked glazed ham. "I suppose he would be like that."

Reeve has very little point of reference. His own father was no more there for him than Rufus's father had been for him. In his own case it was because of a death in the family.

"I know the Turks consider him as such." Rufus looks at the food, somewhat amused at the choices. It may be true Reeve didn't cook it, but it seems like something of a home-cooked meal. "Did you consider this meal for a long time? It seems very hearty."

Carefully, Rufus rises and begins to grab some things for himself. He may avoid too much meat, but seems content with whatever vegetables and other like foods the WRO man has ordered.

"I made my mind up the day before I arranged to meet you," Reeve admits. There are complications related to that, and it motivated him to really go through it. "And it's the sort of stuff I like."

There are a nice set of vegetable sides. Reeve likes ham, but most of the rest is vegetables or starches. Lovely.

"Is that so? Fortunately, I like a good deal of it as well." After gathering a good amount of food, Rufus sets the plate on the table and moves to the fridge to get something to drink, turning to Reeve as he does. "What would you like?"

"Water," Reeve answers. "I know you have that. And wine would hardly be appropriate."

Because Reeve knows what he's like when he drinks. It would only serve to amuse Rufus. "Unless you happen to keep sparkling cider. Frankly, I didn't know what you would drink, so I failed to bring anything. This itself seemed like a great enough risk."

"I don't drink anything so tame as wine." He's pulling out a bottle of water for the both of them, and closing the fridge door. "Haven't had much of anything but water since getting the Stigma, either.

"And why would bringing food be a risk? Worried I'd start a food fight If I didn't get my way?"

"Wine isn't to my taste either. Bourbon."

Alone more often than not.

"I was more concerned that you would not be amused by the purpose behind the food. Or perhaps that you might see this as a ploy to achieve some other end."

Like seducing Rufus. Which even with his heart a bit broken, he wouldn't do. Not his style.

"Vodka here, usually." He sets the bottles down on the table, and looks at Reeve with some slight amusement in his eyes. "Really? You are generally considered a good boy, Reeve. What ploy might you have that asking wouldn't get you?"

"If I am considered a 'good-boy' in that way, then I am definitely seen incorrectly," Reeve chuckles to himself. But that will probably give Rufus all the wrong ideas? No, he somehow doubts that. Rufus himself admitted that he used sex as a means to get what he wants. And he's already getting what he wants from Reeve. Sex is clearly not included, which should be a relief.

"Why would I even ask?" Reeve questions with a smile. Lonely but he'll be fine with that.

With that he gets a nice mouthful of green beans. Lovely.

"Oh, so you're the pushy kind, are you?" He smirks a little, but leaves it there, finding silverware and sitting to eat a little bit. "However, I am curious what you think you will learn speaking with me like this, as compared to our usual conversations."

"To see you as something other than the heir of Shinra, and President of the same company," Reeve points out softly. "And yes, I am. Within reasonable boundaries. My partners are happy to have me in that role."

Here he takes a sip and he then turns his attention to Rufus more seriously. "I'm to learn to see you as just... Rufus."

Rufus so isn't going to ask on that last bit, not right now at least. Amusing as it is for Reeve to be this confident, and seeming to make remarks, there are serious things to be discussed; playing flirty games could always been done later if there was a want or reason.

"And how do you wish to learn that?" Rufus can't help keeping a smirk on his face as he speaks. "Twenty questions?"

Twenty questions. Yes, Rufus, you get a full-bellied laugh for that one. How ridiculous would they be doing such a thing. And yet, it's not a truly foolish idea.

"If there is no better way, then I may resort to that. But my hope was a more natural conversation that doesn't involve reconstruction efforts or the WRO. Any other topic would be game."

"Tseng?" Low blow, and he knows it, but truly doesn't want to help it. Yet he does seem to understand, speaking again as he opens his water to take a drink. "There isn't a great deal either of us have in common, aside from those, and mystery novels.

"Anything else I could say, I don't want to."

"If you wish," Reeve smirks. Because he knows it's a short topic. "I was infatuated with him. I asked him out once, at a company function. I was shot down. Is that really the question you'd ask. How it must make me think of you. But we don't know that we have no other things in common. But if you don't wish to talk to me, you can see if you can eat and play with my robot at the same time. This is an experiment, and if you disapprove, I will not repeat it in the future."

Definitely feels shut out here.

"You actually asked him?" Reeve had hinted at it before, if Rufus remembered correctly, but the blond seems honestly surprised that it might be true. Even he wouldn't risk it. "And it isn't that I don't wish to talk with you, and more that I don't believe you would want to hear about my past; which is effectively the best way to learn someone, isn't it?"

"Yes, I did. He was kind when he said no," Reeve admits with a shrug. "You can ask him if you want. I am sure he would tell you if you did. And I would listen to what you would be willing to share."

Which he expects is little to nothing. "Or we can talk about books. How you came to Healen. Anyhing. I will play twenty questions if I have to. Question for question."

He might ask Tseng later, just to see about getting a response from the man. After all, he did enjoy doing so whenever he could, and it's probably a little obvious if Reeve is watching Rufus' eyes and the little deviltry that has snuck into them; there's also the fact he seems to think on it a good minute, eating some more as he does so, before looking at Reeve to gauge something.

Rufus does want the man to trust him, even just a little better, but he hates divulging information about himself. Even knowing that most of this is a trained response, his Father had taught him well that anything one knew about you could be used against you, it doesn't make it much simpler to talk. Or choose what to speak on, if he decided he could give up a few pieces of information. Which he probably could.

Reeve, he knew well, was honest and although he held grudges and bitterness, reasonable. He'd know whatever Rufus told him would not be something repeated to anyone; not because of danger, though that certainly would have played a part in the past, but because it wasn't his story to tell. Who Rufus was, why he was, was only for the white-clad man to explain as he saw fit and to whom he felt he owed an explanation.

Still...

"Ask something. If I'm not comfortable, I won't speak on it. But I don't need to ask questions in return."

"You're welcome to anyway," Reeve counters. But he considers this carefully. There is a non-zero chance that he may not get another. So he gives himself another fork-load of potatoes before he selects the question he wants to start with.

"Did you ever want to be something other than your father's heir?"

Because that would tell him a lot. The dreams of a child are always there, deep inside.

"None I can remember." Rufus chuckles softly, looking at Reeve. "Everything was about the company for my father, myself included, so anything that couldn't be of use to it was frowned upon. And since I wanted nothing more than his praise, well, dreams like other kids had were not useful to me."

Well now, that was a sad thought indeed. Nothing at all? Not even when he was little?

"Your father really robbed you of everything you deserved as a child. Yes, he provided for you, you had money and comfort and a future. But you haven't really had a chance to live. That's a shame."

No bedtime stories, no dreams for what he would become? President Shinra really should never have been allowed near children. Any children. A different question, then.

"Did you ever consider Lazard a threat?"

"Interestingly enough, I had far more freedom when I was the Turks' guest." Yet he shakes his head to the question. "No. Lazarus had his position in the order, I had mine. Trying to circumvent or attain beyond was always a dangerous proposition.

"Besides, I think he in many ways enjoyed what he did, or at least that he had some amount of freedom to do."

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