Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, characters, places, etc. All rights belong to Square-Enix and their respected owners.

Summary: Post ACC/DoC. Because, sometimes, it's in everyone's best interest if both parties agree to commit to something as mundane as a marriage based on politics and personal gain. Better the devil you know than the one you don't. Rufus/Yuffie

The Arrangement

Chapter Ten

He slept without dreaming.

Only the distant humming of a song he couldn't quite recognize echoed in the depths of his foggy, wine-induced mind. For there he lay, lost to its sweet sound, the minutes which passed ticking away into a wasted sense of eternity, and yet the humming droned on, thrumming against all conscious thought as it teased him into awakening. He grimaced in spite of himself. Soft though undeniably foreign, the melody was enough to pull him from the lethargic dregs of his long, interminable slumber. For Rufus ShinRa returned to the conscious world; reason within darkness, a breach within the shadows of his mind. As it was then that the President of ShinRa Electric Power had awakened…before inwardly muttering a curse that none but he could hear.

Since he was, without question, fully and completely naked underneath the sheets…and he couldn't remember when or how he'd come to be as such, let alone why. The memory of his having done so eluded him completely. Though even more perplexing to ShinRa's current corporate executive, perhaps, was his inability to recall such an instance, which troubled him more than his present condition, as it suggested one thing: Rufus ShinRa was obviously losing his edge. And that, in and of itself, was not to be borne.

Attempting to open his eyes against the sunlight, which beamed in through a nearby window, he found himself closing them just as quickly. Gaia help him. He then tried to remember last night, but found almost everything of what he'd said and done to be a blur. Had he indulged in too much to drink the night before? He didn't feel the presence of a hangover. Instead he felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt rested, almost at peace with himself. Almost. The early morning sunlight was doing nothing for his senses, and the humming, such that it was, was beginning to drive him out of bed, if not out of his mind.

Naked or not, he wanted answers, and the person humming in the next room would be the one to provide them.

With this in mind, he reluctantly gathered the will to pull himself together, the sheets falling away as he stood, perfectly erect yet vulnerable, his senses remaining, though sadly, in terrible disarray. He made an uncustomary motion and pinched the bridge of his nose. For the love of Gaia. Why couldn't he focus? Even in his worst moments, when Diamond Weapon did a number on him, followed by his own personal battle with Geostigma, had he never felt so muddled. Perhaps he was finally slipping.

No.

He couldn't accept that, let alone consider it. He was much too unlike his fool of a father to ever fail.

And he wouldn't…

…Just as soon as he got up off of his methodical, sorry ass and did something about it.

In point of fact, it was actually humiliating for Rufus to find himself in such a state—again, without having a single recollection as to how he came about being so. He had a good idea as to the reason, certainly, but his suppositions were merely based upon a lingering suspicion that the occupant in the other room had something to do with it. After all, the room in which he presently occupied belonged solely, if not exclusively, to his family, and no hired assassin would ever be as stupid as to leave his target alive and breathing, much less in a state that was less than flattering for the President of ShinRa's ego.

No, something—or rather, a certain someone—was behind whatever the hell it was—for Gaia only knew what reason. Rufus inwardly cursed himself, his mind, if only partly, clearing at last. The humming—actually, the voice who invocated it—continued on, unabated, and he, at last, discerned its owner. His hands clenched at his side in an uncharacteristic show of irritation. If he was of a poorer mindset, he would wring her delicate little neck.

As it was, killing her was out of the question, and dragging out her punishment would have its own reward in the end. He would root out the motive behind her little scheme, and then punish her accordingly. Thus committed to the matter at hand, he ignored the jacket, shirt, and pair of pants that had been discarded from the previous night as he threw on an entirely new suit for the day; for if anything, he would be no less than prepared when taking on his little minx of a wife, cold and immaculate and perfectly unmovable in his resolve. Irresolute. He wouldn't falter when around her. His pride wouldn't allow it.

But then, he never considered the possibility that she would, in fact, throw him so completely off of his game, especially when he turned the corner and saw her cooking—of all things—covered as she was from head to toe in flour. A semblance of what appeared to be raspberries stained her fingers, as evidenced by the few which rested on two stacks of what could almost pass for pancakes. Rufus refrained from sneering at the slight aroma of something burning as it wafted through the cold, mid-morning air, his attention fixed solely on the young woman who had, obviously, made a disaster of his kitchen.

The woman in question, however, barely glanced his way, yet still chirped an unusually happy, "Good morning!" when she reached for a bottle of syrup.

Rufus stared at her, nonplussed, if not far from amused. He wasn't in the mood to placate her, much less humor her. It didn't matter to him that she had apparently gone to the trouble in making him something he would never eat.

"Yuffie," he began instead, but was suddenly cut off when he found himself led to a nearby chair.

"Ah, you don't have to thank me," Yuffie said as she threw him a cheeky grin over her shoulder. "I'm just happy to do this for you."

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. She was happy to make a mess of his kitchen—for him? Of all of the absurd things she'd ever said in his presence, this was perhaps the most ridiculous. Refusing to express his impatience, he instead gave into her ludicrous notion of doing something out of kindness for him.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness," he said at length, although his words lacked any sense of gratitude.

Nevertheless, it appeared that she accepted the compliment—for whatever it was—as she urged him to take up a fork and try the floury concoction she'd made. Rufus inwardly cringed at the messy blend of what he secretly hoped was thoroughly cooked. Suffering from a bout of food poisoning—on his honeymoon, and by the hand of his own bride—would be no less than what he could ever hope for. Especially after the night he'd had—which brought him back to the matter at hand.

Setting down his fork, he considered her in silence.

And almost sighed.

Only she would wear a sleeveless top and her customary khaki shorts—surrounded as she so foolishly was by only ice and snow—the morning after their wedding. It shouldn't have surprised him; she was simply like that, and he told himself that it was something that he'd accepted long ago—long before he'd apparently bedded her.

But still.

He could not help but want for things to be a little different from what they presently were. He couldn't explain why. But of course, he had no wish to dwell on it, either. Pondering outcomes and possibilities which could go either way wasn't his forte; and besides which, as he was wont to discover, it did very little good in the end anyway. Being born a true pragmatist, Rufus could only afford things in which he deemed practical. He would therefore leave all sentimentalities and emotional upheavals with his wife.

His wife.

That would take some time in getting used to. For the moment, however, he had other things to consider. Namely, how in the hell he was going to survive breakfast and clench another deal before his dear little wife took him on whatever mindless excursion he'd reluctantly agreed to.

And it was all for her cooperation, of course.

That was the reason he gave himself. His acquiescence in granting her an evening's worth of his time certainly wasn't because he'd actually wanted to please her. In point of fact, he'd no wish to even entertain the superhuman task in accomplishing that. Stomaching whatever monstrosity she'd set before him was quite enough. And again, he grimaced. Food poisoning would be a mercy, compared to the colonoscopy he was bound to undergo after eating his…breakfast.

Nevertheless, he would brave it. Far be it that he, a ShinRa, was made balk at such a thing as swallowing a spoonful of poison. And so, upon taking up his fork, he indulged…and actually swallowed.

Rufus' eyes widened, if only slightly, when a hint of surprise betrayed his otherwise composed features. It wasn't of the same quality as some of the five-star restaurants from which he'd frequently dined, but it wasn't terrible either.

In fact, it was almost edible.

But of course, he would never admit it. And so he ate in silence, as he only half-listened to her prattle on about everything and nothing, notwithstanding the events which led up to his apparent blackout from the previous night. He barely paid her any attention when she wolfed down the contents of her plate and drained a glass of nearby orange juice, and ignored her further when she helped herself to a round of seconds. He had no idea where the food went, having not a scrap of fat on her bones. Not that he cared, of course. For as long as she towed the line, and kept herself at a decent, respectable weight, he didn't care about the care or quantity of garbage which filtered the inner linings of her stomach.

His silent musings were interrupted, however, when he suddenly heard the last thing he'd expected to come out of that never-ending gust of endless chatter.

"…I mean, especially after last night. Because, really, that was just…I have no words for what you did…Gawd…It was soooooo amazing! Where did you learn to say and do things like that, huh? I didn't know such things even existed. You're a real powerhouse in bed, you know."

If Rufus appeared confused before that moment, then his expression increased a hundredfold. He wanted to ask just, exactly, what he was allegedly to have said and done, but refused to allow her such an open blow to his pride. Instead he ignored the urge to simply give in and ask. Whatever she said was of little consequence, anyhow. But still. There was something there, just beneath the surface, and he would be damned if he didn't find out what it was.

And so, in becoming ever the president of his company, he sat up straighter—so far as his already rigid posture afforded him—and leaned forward, hands pyramided to that singular degree of silent interrogation. He cleared his throat, the sound cutting through her insipient chatter like a hardedge blade. "And what, exactly, was it that I'm supposed to have said and done, to have acquired such high praise from her royal highness?"

Yuffie suddenly blanched, completely at a loss for words. "Ah, just the usual kissing and telling," she hedged, before returning to her breakfast. "Yeah, that's pretty much all. Nothing more than that."

But of course, Rufus abstained from believing her, and Yuffie expected no less of him. He probably even knew about the Sleepel spell. Wait. Strike that. How could he know; the selfish son of a prig hadn't given any inclination of his knowing anything about her little trick. Surely he hadn't put two and two together to make an omelet of a discovery that would surely render her in a very hot seat. Unless…

No.

He couldn't be playing her.

Xanatos Gambit aficionado though he was, he certainly wouldn't be bullshitting around with her depriving him of the one thing he felt that she owed him. No, a man like Rufus ShinRa desired to be paid in full—and on time. In this, Yuffie was almost certain that he hadn't figured out her little gamble with the Sleepel spell. Nor did he suspect that whatever happened between them was anything less than what he'd expected. Reasonably assured of his ignorance, she felt that she could go about business as usual.

Until tonight, at least.

Yuffie almost groaned. She'd think about tonight later. For now, she only wanted to enjoy what she could of the honeymoon she hadn't wanted.

And drag his sorry backside out of here, just so that I can see him land on it, she thought, with a hint of satisfaction.

Seeing the great and powerful Rufus ShinRa land on that pristine, polished posterior would be the culmination of half a year's worth of their whirlwind courtship. It was almost worth her being shackled to his miserable side for the rest of her life. Almost. She was still getting used to the idea of having him around…and in such close proximity. After all, he hadn't made it any secret that she was to share his bed, nor did he neglect to mention, albeit subtly, that he expected having conjugal rights on a nightly basis. As well-versed as she was in understanding what happened in the bedroom, Rufus took what she'd invariably heard during her travels to a completely new level. He actually wanted her to act on it.

She instantly repressed a shudder. The man could certainly inspire anyone to do that which went beyond his or her limitation. But for now, he would concede to her desires, and that meant a day's worth of snowboarding. Well, after the little bit of business that he had to conduct in town, but that wouldn't take but an hour. Yuffie was sure of it; for what she already knew of Rufus, he wasn't one to linger after concluding another successful business venture.

With that in mind, she finished the rest of her pancakes before collecting Rufus' plate, which was surprisingly as devoid of pancakes as hers. She'd barely noticed him eating them, let alone catching the marginally surprised look he bestowed her when she stood and absentmindedly kissed him on the cheek. She was barely aware of having done so when she placed the dishes in the sink and skipped off from the room without another word. In truth, she was completely oblivious to everything; though if she had stayed, she would've perhaps noticed a slight, unwanted smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

…

Negotiations between Northern Land Oil and ShinRa Electric Power Company had taken longer than Yuffie originally anticipated; and for that, she was in a terrible mood when Rufus concluded his meeting for the day. She barely noticed the two CEOs shake hands, as the elder of the two—a man undoubtedly in his mid-sixties, with a receding iron-gray hairline and portly frame—looked stoically upon the younger, who stonily returned the man's formidable expression. It was subtle—something that Yuffie had picked up on after months of being forced in his company—yet obviously there, and she inwardly braced herself for the political fallout that would inevitably happen when they reached the lodge.

To say that talks between the two men hadn't gone smoothly was putting things lightly. For once, Rufus hadn't been able to win over the competition with that sickeningly charming, come-hither way of his. Only at the beginning, when Yuffie was introduced, had the meeting shown a hint of promise than an agreement between the two companies could possibly be met. But then, came real business, and then ShinRa's less-than-pleasant history, which was then consequently followed by the near-destruction of their world, before Geostigma became an inevitable conclusion as to why the CEO of Northern Land Oil, a Mr. Aeolus Greene, was reluctant to merge his company with one whom he compared to being nothing more than a devil.

Rufus had taken the slight in stride, although Yuffie sensed that it cost his pride dearly. No one spoke to the ShinRa family in such a way and expected to leave without a blow to the head. But then, that had been in another time—before the world went in to hell in a hand basket, and the man she now claimed as her husband obviously wanted to make good on his word that he wasn't his father, that his company was no longer the corporate big-bad it had been. Of course, convincing the head of a company that struggled under the shadow of a former super power would be nothing short of a monumental effort on her husband's part.

She didn't doubt that Rufus would succeed in acquiring the company; she only doubted that he would acquire it today. With time and patience, however, he could get anything he wanted.

He got me, after all, she mused distantly, strangely no longer repulsed by the fact.

So far, the marriage wasn't as bad as she'd initially believed it would be. In fact, Rufus had been no less than what he'd always been to her: an indifferent man who simply tolerated her existence. He showed little interest in her beyond her smiling and playing the part of the besotted president's wife in front of the competition, which was fine with Yuffie. The less interested he was, the better off she would be. Perhaps this marriage gig wouldn't be so bad after all, just so long as he kept his distance and behaved himself in bed. If he could accomplish that, then being with him wouldn't be the nightmare her father inspired on that first day.

But then, they had at least another fifty years before she could make a sound judgment on that little detail. Yuffie ignored the thought as she came to Rufus' side, smiled a pretty smile for Mr. Greene, before accepting her husband's arm, a tangible show of support for the man whom the world loved to hate. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Greene," she said, playing the tactful diplomat between the two CEOs. She barely noticed an almost hidden look of approval from Rufus before he led her out of the conference room, and into the snow-white world that had his backside written all over it.

She smiled at the mental image it brought her, her body moving unconsciously closer to his. Of course she wouldn't admit it; she was a little cold, and only wanted to share what small amount of warmth he possessed.

Still, though, even when wearing an uncomfortable corduroy skirt and a pair of nude silk stockings—which was an olive branch that she'd extended to him when she adamantly refused to wear dress pants for the meeting—she couldn't deny wanting to be close to him. For underneath the multiple layers of black and white, and past the bitter, cold exterior that he exuded for all, she felt the slightest trace of a human heart, and she reveled in the feel of its presence. Of course, it didn't mean that she wanted to sleep with him. The very idea sent a strange, unwanted shiver down her spine; and she promptly ignored it, even when a part of her secretly lamented distancing herself from it.

As it was, there were others things that required her attention—namely the silent man whose calm demeanor opposed the turmoil roiling within. Yuffie unconsciously took one of his hands into hers as they made their way out into the street.

A quiet moment passed between them before Rufus spoke, his warm breath clashing against the cold. "Would you care for a late lunch?" he asked, seemingly throwing her off guard. When he saw her bewildered expression, he continued. "The meeting took longer than expected, and I realize that you haven't had anything to eat because of it. You've endured that which I'm used to, and so lunch is on me—whatever you want."

Yuffie looked at him, unable to mask her surprise. Did he just offer her something out of goodwill—with no strings attached? It was unlike him, but then he appeared sincere in the gesture; and so she took it for what it was, at face value. "Okay. Yeah, sure, I guess I am little hungry," she said, giving him a little leeway. "How about we go and grab some hot chocolate and cookies? Chocolate chip, mind you; I don't go for that sissy macadamia nut junk, or whatever chocolate-haters call it."

A vague smile briefly rested on his lips as he inclined his head in silent agreement. "If that is what you wish, then we shall fill you with as many calories and carbohydrates that you won't even think of snowboarding for a week." He ignored the heated look she cast him and continued walking down the street, his arm wrapped strongly around hers as he kept his balance. Subtle though he was in using her as a crutch, he secretly lamented his leaving the cane at the lodge. Of course, he refused the opposition the opportunity to discern any sign of weakness—physical or figurative. He needed to close the deal with the illusion of being outwardly perfect, no matter how flawed of a man he was internally. "After all, that is your intention, is it not?" he questioned, subtly goading her. "You want to be, dare I say, voluptuous?"

Yuffie, however, refused to be baited. "My metabolism is stronger than you know, Aki," she remarked, purposely using a semblance of the name she'd given him to indicate her point. "And besides, it doesn't matter whether I fatten myself up like a county fair chocobo; you're the one who's going to be snowboarding, not me. That was the deal, remember?" She threw him a crooked smile, emphasizing her claim. "And as I recall, you said that you would do it. You can't get out of it, considering that you promised me."

She heard him mumble something under his breath, his impenetrable façade returning. "Very well," he conceded, though not entirely, "we shall have lunch, and then I shall allow you to have an evening's amusement at my expense."

Her smile widened. "See now? We can negotiate successfully, without having to pull out the big guns," she remarked, albeit only half-jokingly. She had no doubt that Rufus tried to find an edge, even in so small a venture as having fun. Nevertheless, Yuffie didn't mind if he found one; she was going to have fun in spite of it. And so she continued on down the street, huddling closer against him as he led her to a nearby café, and courteously opened the door for her.

She gave him a quizzical look at his gentlemanly approach before entering…and then blatantly ignored the stares people gave them as they moved to stand in line as any normal couple would do. They were far from normal, of course, but that didn't matter. They were pretending, after all. And there was no harm in enjoying herself, even if everyone saw through the lie. Lies were something both she and Rufus were good at telling, and there was no point in giving up the pretense. Not now, after everything they'd done to maintain the illusion of a powerful supercouple.

And so, as they sat across from each other with their respective drinks—his being coffee, straight with no cream or sugar, something of which Yuffie found to be completely absurd yet very much him all the same—they played the part of the infatuated newlyweds. It was enough to make most of their audience turn away in disgust. And Yuffie smiled, triumphant once more. She had her cookies, her hot chocolate, and a lackadaisical manipulator husband who had once had the world supplanted below his feet. What more could she possibly ask for?

Oh, yes.

There was still one, tiny, small thing she wanted.

And so she regained her husband's attention, the mischief in her eyes leaving him only with a sense of forthcoming dread. "So, about that promise you made me…"

…

"Remind me to kill you when we return to the lodge."

To anyone else, that threat would strike fear in the bravest of hearts, but Yuffie merely laughed in the face of death. "Then you wouldn't have anyone to make my special pancakes," she glibly returned to her would-be executioner.

Smirking under the glare he cast her, she reveled in his irritation as he dusted the snow from his wrinkled trousers. His pristine veneer was tarnished by a cold layer of white that clung to him like a second skin. Of course, he had but only himself to blame. After all, he'd decided to snowboard in his fine tailored suit and not change into the proper winter attire that she and the ski lodge's attendant had suggested. And now he suffered in the face of his pride as he watched a princess, of all things, laugh at his folly. She would pay dearly for the slight, but then, whether it was out of his own amusement or charity, he had no wish to punish her.

But neither did he share in her laughter.

He would let her off the hook this once. Indeed, he was being more than generous to her. After all, she'd shared in the burdensome company of his competition earlier, and he had yet to thank her properly for being the charming little wife she'd displayed so flawlessly. If falling on his ass from time to time meant that she'd continue in their little charade, then he could make such a reality—under a few conditions, of course. He was not above negotiating for that which he wanted.

Though for now, his time in indulging her was running steadily, yet most assuredly, out as the sun began to descend among the snowcapped mountains that heralded to the west. They needed to return to the lodge, to rest, and then prepare for another round with Aeolus Greene. The thought of losing such a prospective seller like Greene left a bitter taste in Rufus' mouth.

In fact, he couldn't afford to fail in this endeavor. Too much was at stake as it was.

Greene is the bellwether, he thought, as he again reconsidered all possibilities.

"Helllloooooo? Are you in there, Aki? Anyone home in that bucket of rocks that people foolishly believe to be a head?"

Rufus was jolted once again to reality by an ever-probing Yuffie and her ridiculous hand gestures that no longer shocked him to silence. There were very few things that she could do to surprise him now; and so he ignored her, having instead decided to adjourn from their fun little venture in playing in the snow as he brought to her attention the time, as well as their need to drop off their snowboarding gear and return to the lodge.

Yuffie, naturally, protested, face pinched in palpable disappointment. She wanted him—no, for them—to stay. That much, at least, was obvious to Rufus.

Nevertheless, he managed to dissuade her, yet again promising her another snowboarding day, if only to appease her. His time of playing the fool was over; work needed to be done, and no amount of pouting—no matter how affecting it was on his conscience—would deter him from his intent. She would return with him. Now. In this, he would have his way.

Reaching for her, he carefully linked her arm around his. Walking together in silence, they returned the snowboards to a desk clerk who barely acknowledged their presence, and then Rufus called Reno to pick them up. Yuffie said nothing during the exchange, merely watched the sunset in the distance through one of the ski lodge's windows. She barely noticed that her arm was still held by his as they waited for the inevitable return to the lodge. Yuffie inwardly shuddered, dreading the idea as she secretly hoped that today's fiasco would occupy Rufus through the night. She didn't enjoy deceiving him, but she couldn't bear the thought of them going so far together as that, either. She wasn't at all prepared for that.

Someday maybe, but not now.

Presently with his arm holding hers captive, it was enough that they were this physical. A single kiss would be the end of her. Yuffie closed her eyes, feeling his intimacy, the warmth he emanated from that otherwise cold exterior. She nearly cried out. She needed a little breathing room.

But of course, she could never fully have what she wanted, let alone needed.

For just as soon as Reno arrived to pick them up, and then promptly delivered them back to the lodge, before he just as abruptly made his leave, did Yuffie find herself completely ensnared by a pair of arms. The door had barely been shut and locked behind them before Rufus began his onslaught, assaulting her mouth with a barrage of kisses that left her utterly breathless. She barely connected one coherent thought with another, her mind a tangled mess of a thousand sensations that she had yet to comprehend. She felt as though the world were spinning, her gaze set ablur as she looked into his, those Mako-infused eyes enshrouded by shadows and firelight, the rounds of his pupils dilating in a most unnatural, spiral shape as he provocatively addressed her by her title, and all that he wanted to do to her.

Yuffie blinked, frowning against what she'd just seen, or thought she'd seen. She couldn't be for certain, given her present state, but she could've sworn that his eyes regarded her in a way, too alien to be anything but abnormal. Although, like the time before, she decided to ignore it. She rarely ruminated on anything, let alone her sanity, but this was an occasion in which she would abstain from questioning him.

He would scoff at the idea, anyway, she thought, before again losing herself to those unearthly eyes and the solemn whisper of her name. She should've pushed him away, thwarted his advances through some kind of hysterical act of affront, but she couldn't. For once, she was curious to see where this road could possibly go. Not too far, of course, but far enough. There was a little thing known as self-restraint in which she was in moderate possession of. And she would use it, as the bangle she wore reminded her. Fighting off her husband's advances was now a cake walk. She could deny him any time she felt the inclination.

After all, he would never tame her.

As no man, living or dead, could ever wield such power.

And so she allowed him to continue in his powerless onslaught, indulging him, provoking him. It was utterly maddening, teasing him so.

But he asked for it, she reasoned quietly in mid-kiss. He asked to be punished, to be tormented. As a loving bride, she could only oblige him, perilously blinded as he was to some falsely conceited passion that would never be requited. As the son of a ShinRa, he deserved no less—he deserved worse, perhaps. But she was not his judge, his jury, nor his executioner. It was not within her power to condemn him for his crimes. Not outrightly. And nor, it seemed, did she find it within herself to want to do so. She was tired of blaming him for something she'd long disassociated him from having done. His father had been in power at the time; and it was the former president, not his son, who would forever stand on trial in her mind.

But of course, that didn't mean that she had to love him, let alone like him. It was enough to endure the constancy of his presence, as she smiled her pretty smile to everyone who knew none the better. It was a mask that she wore, a façade carefully constructed by her own deceit. And she reveled in it, just as she indulged him in kissing her vulnerable neck.

As shameful as it was, she enjoyed it nonetheless. Enjoyed him. Enjoyed this momentary lapse in holding the upper hand. She would string him along until it was time to put him to sleep.

And yet, through an uncharacteristic show of need, she found herself unable to object to his whims when he pressed her in the direction of the bedroom. She allowed him to kiss her further, deeper, taunting him, daring him to continue. She was playing with fire, though she cared not for the consequences. She'd been burnt before, when her home was enjoyed as she suffered the loss of a beloved mother. For now, however, she failed to taste the ashes of her past as she invoked the fire that would surely burn her again.

A sudden, slight buzzing radiated from his pants pocket, and Yuffie broke away from the kiss, suddenly grateful, since it was the only thing to save her from what would have been an otherwise regrettable mistake. Pulling away from Rufus, she watched him as he turned to answer the call, sighing quietly in relief when he left to speak privately in the kitchen. She heard him shut the door, his voice muffled by the wooden barrier between them. She could barely discern anything said, but she heard the words "Best offer" and "No other will offer you even a fraction as what I have." Silence soon followed before Rufus spoke again, and Yuffie sensed the conversation had taken a turn that Rufus hadn't expected, his voice tense and his words clipped.

Yuffie frowned. Sympathy for the devil.

She desired him, yes, but not to the extent of dropping her drawers and letting him have his way with her. She still possessed a little dignity, after all. And yet, as she listened to the conversation in the other room, she couldn't distance herself from Rufus completely. For if he came to her, that proud, patrician face drawn down in utter disappointment, she couldn't deny that she would try to comfort him in some way. Being all mushy gushy wasn't her forte, but neither would she mock him for his discontent.

Her compassion, however, would not be requited—not then, at least—since Rufus remained on the phone, well into the night. And Yuffie, as tired as she was in waiting up for him, finally conceded and went to bed. She would not have to worry about him demanding his conjugal rights; the bangle wasn't needed when Rufus came to bed with nothing but work in mind.

He barely acknowledged the small figure sleeping next to him. At 4:00 A.M., he could not think of waking her and fulfilling yet another transaction. He hadn't the energy for it, much less the desire, as he clutched the lower half of his leg and endured the throbbing pain of yet another mistake. He shouldn't have stood so long on it, let alone snowboarded when the first signs of discomfort pierced the tender nerves that surrounded the scar tissue. Massaging his leg, he grimaced and cursed Diamond Weapon once more. It was perhaps petty of him, but it was that insidious creature's fault that he was reduced to his dependence on walking with a cane. For even with his Geostigma healed, he would never be the man he was before Meteorfall.

But do you want to be? the traitorous part of his subconscious asked.

Rufus pondered the question, an answer on the tip of his tongue that would, sadly, remain unspoken. He said nothing in the wake of Yuffie's slumber. Instead he gave in to his exhaustion as he changed out of his suit and into a pair of white satin pajamas. Sleep. Yes. Time to go through the motions, and do what the agony in his leg screamed for. He would tend to his other desires at a more convenient time.

And so he pulled back the sheets and joined Yuffie, wholly unaware of his taking her into his arms as the soft smile that rested on her lips, to his misfortune, went unseen.

…

Author's Note: Many, many, many apologies for taking three years to update this story. I honestly hadn't intended for my absence to go this long, but my private life has greatly overwhelmed me since that time. The good thing is that I've finally graduated with my Master's degree in Education, so I'm certified to teach English and all things literature. I don't feel as though I've mastered the art of teaching English, most especially after teaching my first year, but I'll leave it to my university and current administration to make that call. ;)

But even more importantly, a huge thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, sent messages to me, and have simply kept interest in this story. I am so sorry that I haven't posted more, although I plan to update this story over the summer. It's nice to finally have a break and return to something that I've dearly missed and love. I also believe we're a little past the halfway point. There's still much more to come, but this is where we currently are with involved.

I sincerely hope everyone enjoys this latest chapter, just as I hope everyone is excited over the reality of a Final Fantasy VII remake. I trust we'll see Rufus being as amazing and sexy as ever, while we'll finally get to have an HD Yuffie in a party. I cannot wait! :)

Until next time!

— Kittie