plate_builder | [Open Post]

Well, that's an interesting response, and now Rufus is certainly more interested in Reeve than the Cait unit. Not the comments about power over many, no that he completely gets with the way they bicker, but the remainder? Interesting. Brings a smirk to his face,

"Reeve, what are you doing? Because it sounds a hell of a lot like a pick-up line."

A pickup line? Now why would he ever do that?

"Pick-up? I'm not strong enough to lift you in that chair," Reeve answers with a chuckle.

"Sounds like something Reno would say." He looks back as if he's going to maneuver the cat around some more, but seems to wait a moment before settling back into the chair and looking at Reeve again. "However, if you really wish to repeat our former conversation, I'd be more than happy to play along."

"Former conversation?" Reeve asks as he pushes to his feet. "Now Rufus, I was just asking a question. Which you preferred. If you preferred that I stayed I believe that says more about you than about me."

Well Rufus, who are you playing with, the cat or him? No, Reeve won't say that.

Rufus chuckles softly at the response, and waves Reeve dismissively away. If it wasn't for the fact he seemed truly amused, maybe even a bit happy, the motion would probably be very offensive to Reeve. As it was, he adds a simple, "You're the one who started it, Mr. Tuesti. I just saw no reason to not finish it."

"You would know it if I started something, Rufus," Reeve answers, quite a bit of amusement in his tone. "If I did, you wouldn't be able to focus on that monitor for even a second. Now, since you've dismissed me, I'll deal with that other work."

Time to get to start figuring out this food thing.

He just laughs at that, but seems to decide to leave Reeve be, returning to learning what he can with the items Reeve had placed in the box under the bed. Eventually, he'll even take to learning to get the Cait unit back on the bed and finding all the ways to navigate him up and down, depending on the time Reeve gives.

There will be plenty of time, during which there will be more noises in the kitchenette like area. Clearly he's only doing coffee. Obviously. But then there are smells of food, nothing burning yet. It's nearly an hour before Reeve returns to Rufus's side, looking over his shoulder as he works with Cait.

"You're doing well," Reeve says with a good bit of approval in his voice. Quite well. The man is a bit of a quick learner, which is interesting. Reeve hadn't known that. "You know, you're smiling right now. I don't know that I've ever seen that from you. Not this... purely pleased with the world. Smile like that at Tseng and you might get him in your bed."

He's naturally curious about what Reeve is doing, but has decided to leave him alone. Whatever he is up to, it will be revealed, although when he begins to smell food he has an idea; and it explains the other bags.

Of course, leaving Rufus alone for an hour means he has figured out how to deal with doors, and he seems to have decided to see what ones he's allowed to open and which he isn't, even while investigating the house.

He'll pull himself away from the tour to look at Reeve, though. "Pretty sure he's seen it, and it hasn't worked yet. Perhaps you'd like to join me instead?"

Provided Rufus isn't removing Cait from the apartment or about to interrogate Reeve about the specifics of the contents of the box that for now is on a shelf above his drafting table, Reeve is okay.

"I can't help but think the man has no interest in the handsome sex," Reeve sighs, and he manages to sound very forlorn. However it doesn't last on his face. "A shame. He really is a loss. And if I were to 'join you' then dinner would get cold."

Such troublesome investigations can wait until later, when Reeve isn't in the room to see him. If Rufus even bothers to try to harass the man by prying where he shouldn't. Rufus even had his morals and limits.

"No, I think Tseng is just difficult." Removing the headset and finding a spot for the controls, he tilts his head. "Dinner? Is that what was in the other bags?"

"Yes," Reeve answers, and then he takes a breath because he's prepared for this. "As much as I hate to say it, Reno was right. Elena too I suppose. I am a bit difficult at times, and foolish. I did not give you the credit you deserved. Your concern for me was warranted, and my behavior was based on... circumstances that I should not have laid at your feet. This partnership of ours is clearly not going to be for a short period of time. You have become an invaluable, if silent, partner for the WRO and the work going on in Edge and you deserve more respect for what you're doing. But I am having difficulty in seeing you as the person you are rather than the man you were."

The more he had thought about it, the more he had realized it. Nearly dying changes people, and Rufus would be no exception. The Turks themselves seemed a bit different when it came right down to it. What was more, Reeve may have had a touch of a talking to from Veld, and that is a man he had plenty of reasons to respect.

"I don't know you, Rufus. That makes this partnership difficult. You may believe I invest myself too much in the people around me, but I feel that knowing people gives life meaning. If I don't know the people I'm working toward, I lose some of what motivates me. And I should extend that same treatment to people I'm working with. At least those that will give me the time of day, so to speak. And thus... dinner. I find it difficult to know a man through work alone, so I figured something a bit less focused on the world outside of here might be good for me knowing you. Though I admit the Halloween thing helped a bit. Very popular by the way."

It's a winding way to apologize, almost as long as the tirade which brought it on, but logical. Both men are talkers, but neither good listeners, and in many ways that causes problems. Add in distrust, and it's a disaster waiting to happen time and again. Honestly, sometimes Reno and his bluntness would be easier, but will never happen with these two.

Understanding this, Rufus sort of chuckles softly at Reeve, or maybe at himself.

"I suppose me caring about someone aside from myself is difficult to accept. Plus, I'm as stubborn and bull-headed as you are, mm?"

"The Turks seem resolved to believe that you care about people other than yourself. I suppose I needed another voice to believe that," Reeve admits. "And you may not be the only one to have called me bull-headed recently. In fact, you're the third."

That admission has him momentarily quiet, a bit upset as he thinks back to one of those. From Rufus and Veld he can take it in the spirit it was given. It was the third that gives him a moment of pause. Then he shakes his head.

"The food will get cold. I don't know all you can eat, I won't be offended if you don't want any of it. Promise I didn't cook it."

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?"

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