(this motherfucker was NOT going to be limited to three sentences no matter how I try to replace periods with semicolons so I just gave myself free reign to ramble sorry!!!! XD)
Barret sets the steaming mug of tea down with a clunk, and orders, "Drink, you moron, or you're gonna hate yourself in the morning." Reeve mutters into his collection of empties and Barret prods him suspiciously. "What?"
"I said," Reeve says, only barely slurring, "too late." He nudges the mug aside with his knuckles. "Don't like tea anyway."
There's a lot of things Barret wants to call him. Ungrateful bastard gets top billing, along with dumbass and coward, but Tifa told him to make an effort so he's making an effort, goddammit. "I can dump half a jar of honey in it if you want," he offers instead, and gets an almost-amused snort for his efforts. "What? You think that's not how I take mine?"
Reeve lets his head fall forward, thumping against his arm and against an empty glass that Barret quickly rescues. "Just let me have this," the last of the Shinra execs pleads. "Just one night. I know you've got a conscience, don't act like you've never drowned your ghosts in alcohol."
Which might be the nicest thing Reeve's ever said to a terrorist, but Barret isn't about to point it out - instead he sighs, leans on the bartop. "Never had the luxury," he says, low-voiced. "Had Marlene to think of." Reeve makes a wordless noise of acknowledgement. "Won't say I wasn't tempted."
"Nh."
"Besides, what're you feeling guilty about? You did everything-" Damn, but you did everything you could sounds like a condemnation with the smoking ruins of Midgar looming behind them, with the ghosts of everyone Reeve couldn't save gathered in the abandoned bar. "You did everything right," Barret finishes, and even that doesn't feel like the right thing to say.
Reeve snorts again. "That's me, Mister By-The-Book." He lifts his head, just enough to prop it on his arm. "Maybe if I'd had the guts to do a few things wrong none of us would be here."
That's - way too much to take on one set of shoulders and even Barret knows it, but he'd have to out himself as a hypocrite if he brought up Corel now. Besides, what's he think he could've done - sit on Sephiroth? Organize a coup? It would've been the world's only coup with clipboards-
Reeve snaps a glare at him and Barret coughs to try and recover from the laugh that snuck up on him. "You woulda made a shit terrorist, that's all," he explains, and hall-fuckin-lujah that actually gets him a watery smile. "Maybe you better leave the rule-breakin' to me."
In demonstration, Barret reaches over and picks up the last glass of Cosmo Canyon tequila in front of Reeve. "To doing everything wrong," he announces, and drains it dry.
As he coughs for real - because fuck tequila, that stuff's terrible - Reeve laughs and picks up the cooling mug of tea. "To doing everything right."
no subject
Barret sets the steaming mug of tea down with a clunk, and orders, "Drink, you moron, or you're gonna hate yourself in the morning." Reeve mutters into his collection of empties and Barret prods him suspiciously. "What?"
"I said," Reeve says, only barely slurring, "too late." He nudges the mug aside with his knuckles. "Don't like tea anyway."
There's a lot of things Barret wants to call him. Ungrateful bastard gets top billing, along with dumbass and coward, but Tifa told him to make an effort so he's making an effort, goddammit. "I can dump half a jar of honey in it if you want," he offers instead, and gets an almost-amused snort for his efforts. "What? You think that's not how I take mine?"
Reeve lets his head fall forward, thumping against his arm and against an empty glass that Barret quickly rescues. "Just let me have this," the last of the Shinra execs pleads. "Just one night. I know you've got a conscience, don't act like you've never drowned your ghosts in alcohol."
Which might be the nicest thing Reeve's ever said to a terrorist, but Barret isn't about to point it out - instead he sighs, leans on the bartop. "Never had the luxury," he says, low-voiced. "Had Marlene to think of." Reeve makes a wordless noise of acknowledgement. "Won't say I wasn't tempted."
"Nh."
"Besides, what're you feeling guilty about? You did everything-" Damn, but you did everything you could sounds like a condemnation with the smoking ruins of Midgar looming behind them, with the ghosts of everyone Reeve couldn't save gathered in the abandoned bar. "You did everything right," Barret finishes, and even that doesn't feel like the right thing to say.
Reeve snorts again. "That's me, Mister By-The-Book." He lifts his head, just enough to prop it on his arm. "Maybe if I'd had the guts to do a few things wrong none of us would be here."
That's - way too much to take on one set of shoulders and even Barret knows it, but he'd have to out himself as a hypocrite if he brought up Corel now. Besides, what's he think he could've done - sit on Sephiroth? Organize a coup? It would've been the world's only coup with clipboards-
Reeve snaps a glare at him and Barret coughs to try and recover from the laugh that snuck up on him. "You woulda made a shit terrorist, that's all," he explains, and hall-fuckin-lujah that actually gets him a watery smile. "Maybe you better leave the rule-breakin' to me."
In demonstration, Barret reaches over and picks up the last glass of Cosmo Canyon tequila in front of Reeve. "To doing everything wrong," he announces, and drains it dry.
As he coughs for real - because fuck tequila, that stuff's terrible - Reeve laughs and picks up the cooling mug of tea. "To doing everything right."