Don't Play With Fire (Turks FFVII)

XXXIII) Subpar Submarining

"Mornin', Sweetheart," Reno slurs around the toothbrush in his mouth.

I frown, sitting up and pushing my hair out of my eyes. I don't remember much past the conversation Rufus and I had last night. Reno and I probably talked and went to bed. Shaking my head, I get to my feet and stretch my back.

"Morning."

"How're you feeling?"

"A little queasy. Hopefully, it'll pass."

"Yeah." Reno crosses the hall to rinse out his mouth, scrubbing his face dry with a towel and pulling a white shirt off the rail on his tiled wall. Yawning, I close the gap and rest my head on his back, letting my eyes fall shut.

"I'm so tired."

"Yeah? You slept like a dead body," he laughs, buttoning up his shirt.

"Did I? Feels like I ran a marathon."

"Well, you better wake up fast. I got an actual assignment for us to do."

"No way," I gasp, grinning at his reflection. "I didn't know those were part of our job anymore. Thought I got paid to sit around and look pretty."

"You got the first part down."

"Hey!" I smack the back of his head and he ducks, reaching for his uniform jacket. "What're we doing?"

"I tell you when you get dressed. Stop stealin' my shirts."

I spread my arms out to show just how large the t-shirt is on me, laughing. It looks like I have wings. "What, when was the last time you repped the theater's production shirts?"

"Doesn't matter. It's mine."

"Then learn to share, Anus."

Rolling his eyes, he leaves me alone and I force myself to pull on my uniform from yesterday. Everything about my body is sluggish and slow. I feel like someone attached a hose to my back and sucked the life from my veins. I need another vacation. Reno knocks on the doorframe, catching my attention abruptly.

"Something up?"

"Yeah." He holds up his phone, a crooked smile twisting his lips. "A real assignment from the big man himself."

"You're kidding." I snatch the phone from his grasp, reading the brief message. Giddy, I toss it back with a grin. At least Rufus isn't babying the situation. "We're back to serving Scarlet, huh?"

"Better than sitting on our butts another day."

"You're right."

The flight to Junon isn't as long as I remember, though I can't help but notice the distinct lack of Tseng's eye-rolls and Rufus's pouting from the back. It's kind of sad. I guess hauling Huge Materia into submarines doesn't require the extra company, but it would be nice to go back to those days for just a moment, wouldn't it?

The extra security feels a little unnecessary. I shouldn't have to show my ID every five feet to follow my orders. To be fair, I haven't instilled much confidence in these soldiers, but the accompaniment of Reno should ease their minds. How crafty do these people think I am?

"Let's get to the sub," I huff, tucking my ID away for what I hope is the final time.

Reno laughs, shaking his head and tucking his hands into his pockets. "Gotta load up the Materia first, Sweetheart. Didn't Tseng ever teach you patience?"

"No, but he'd be lecturing me about that now if he was here."

Reno nods toward a looming crane that dangles a gleaming yellow sphere over the open hatch of a scarlet submarine. The entire dock smells like seawater and rust, bustling with dozens of soldiers and crew members that eye us as we stroll past along the soaked concrete pathway. From here, the Huge Materia will be transported to Rocket Town to fill their looming old rocket and launch it at Meteor. All this in a baseless hope for a miracle.