Notes: Old idea that finally got something done with it.

. . .

Washing Windows

. . .

Cloud stifled a laugh, cupping a gloved hand over his mouth.

He was perched in a hanging basket, on the side of one of Shinra's executive buildings, an old mop in a green plastic bucket next to him, and not doing his job at all. Instead of cleaning the windows like a good little grunt, he was watching Commander Rhapsodos twirl around in his office chair once again, just like he'd been doing for the past two weeks.

Evidently being his squadron's bitch boy for the month had its perks, as few as they may be.

With a sigh, he sat back and adjusted the little white face mask they made him wear. According to the Master Sergeant, 'that shit could melt what's left of your brains'. Honestly, Cloud didn't think it smelled that bad but he wanted to keep his organs intact—if only so he could continue with his current hobby.

From the moment he joined Shinra and sat down in that orientation hall across the compound, Cloud knew two things. One: that the temperamental commander who had been busy scowling at the President's turned back was just too interesting for his own good, and two: that said commander's best friend and personal shield, Angeal Hewley, scared the shit out of him.

It was that second thing that halted any and all plans Cloud might have come up with to possibly meet the commander. They were always together: they sparred together, ate together, swam together, ran together, even taught classes together. Though, Cloud was pretty sure the teaching thing was more for the safety of the cadets as Commander Rhapsodos was known for his temper for a reason, after all.

However, Cloud was delighted to note that they obviously didn't do office work together. In fact, he had yet to see the intimidating Angeal Hewley in the commander's office even once in his time on the lift.

Which was a good thing in his opinion; he might have fallen off if the man had turned that frown in his direction. Even Zack was cowed by the frown and he could puppy-face his way out of just about anything. Cloud didn't have the luxury of a cute puppy face so he didn't push his luck on most occasions.

Getting comfortable, in his usual position, Cloud had to admit that being forced to wash windows wasn't all that bad. He'd gotten a sunburn on his first day…though he wondered how, given all the smog…but he was used to that and had made a mental note to slather himself with the foul smelling sunblock he had been provided. He'd noticed the commander's office on his third day, on happenstance. The rubber had peeled off of the squeegee he'd been using and fallen from the side of the lift. When he'd turned around, something red had caught his eye and there he was, twirling in his chair, a book held up to his face. The watching had come about slowly after that. A large portion of the windows on the building he was working on were close enough to observe from and, at first, it had been an accident. His eyes would stray and fifteen minutes would go by before he realized what he was doing and gave himself a mental slap. Either way, after two weeks, Cloud had come to a conclusion. All the man did was read the same book, day after day, and twirl in that damn chair. His work ethic was terrible.

Earlier in the week, he'd actually caught the man hunched over his desk. His hopes had risen a bit, thinking that, perhaps, something was going to get done, until the redhead had sat back, grabbed the paper, and ripped the thing to shreds in a flurry of hands and flying paper bits.

The PHS in Cloud's pocket buzzed, jerking him from his thoughts, and he pulled off the yellow glove before easing it from his pocket and dragging the mask down to rest around his neck. Zack's name flashed up at him from the small screen and he sighed. Why was Zack even calling him during work hours?

He hit the answer button and held it up. "Hey, Zack."

"Spike! Hey, how's it goin'?" Zack's voice was tiny and metallic sounding, a huge contrast to the larger than life presence he usually had and it never failed to make Cloud grin.

He shifted carefully, trying not to drop the phone or himself. "I'm washing windows, how do you think it's going?"

"Liar."

Cloud glared at the phone. "What?"

"You're not doin' shit. Look up."

For lack of better judgment, he did, and there was Zack, grinning down at him from the window above the commander's.

With Angeal fucking Hewley.

Cloud lurched backward, almost dropping the PHS.

"Hey, hey, be careful, Cloudy! Don't fall off."

When he righted himself, phone still in hand, and not a bloody splatter on the ground, he felt his cheeks flame. They saw him. They saw him watching the man! Gods, what if Commander Hewley went in there and told him? The man would probably laugh his face pretty face right off.

He glanced down, trying to hide the redness of his cheeks and froze. Forgetting all about the two men in the window above him, Cloud dropped his PHS, ignoring the splash it made as it landed in the pail of soapy water, and stared.

A gloved hand was pressed up against the commander's window and the auburn-haired man was blinking at him, both amusement and curiosity playing across his features. A smile twitched at his lips and Cloud watched with wide eyes as he moved quickly to his desk. He picked up a permanent marker, followed by a piece of paper and then, a moment later, pressed the white sheet against the window with some slanted words scribbled across it.

Don't you dare fall.
Have a notepad?

After a moment of staring, Cloud shook his head.

The commander nodded slowly and pulled the paper away to scribble on it once more.

Bring one tomorrow.

. . .

The next morning, after dodging Zack at every corner and fleeing from Angeal Hewley twice, Cloud finally made it up to the window he'd become so fond of.

The sun was just starting to rise when he sat down, crossing his legs. With one hand, he stifled a yawn, the other firmly holding onto the notepad he'd brought.

Last night, lying in bed, he'd decided on something. This development was either really, really good... or really, really bad. But, since it was Genesis Rhapsodos, he was somewhat willing to risk it. His curiosity had been piqued the second the commander hadn't roasted him yesterday and curiosity had always gotten the better of him.

As he waited for the office door to open, he settled in and let his mind drift.

Despite being almost ridiculously happy about the absurd situation, he felt like a creep.

He wanted to know Genesis, not the famed commander, not the person that people romanticized, idolized. Cloud just honestly wanted to know the man himself: what his favorite color was, did he take syrup or peanut butter on his waffles, when he came home at night, did he leave his shoes in a mess by the door or a neat set up in his room? And now… he looked like some crazed stalker-fanboy.

Cloud sighed and glanced over at the empty window. "Whatever," he mumbled. "Don't turn your nose up at the gift-chocobo, right?"

He nodded to himself and was about to shift to a more comfortable position when the door was suddenly thrown open and Genesis came striding into the room. Cloud felt his cheeks heat with remembered embarrassment from the day before and he quickly shook his head at himself. The man shut the door with a solid kick and then hurried over to the window.

The hand from yesterday spread flat out on the glass once more and Genesis smiled at him. He held up one gloved finger and then turned, pulling off his coat. He hung it neatly on a coat rack near the door and smoothed out, what Cloud assumed, were imaginary wrinkles in his shirt and went to his desk. Cloud watched as he sat down and reached for a yellow notepad and then something to write with. A second later the commander held it up with an amused smile.

Can you read this from here?

With a smile of his own, Cloud pulled out the marker that was in his pocket and nodded once before scribbling out, and holding up, his own message. Yep.

Good. What's your name?

Cloud.

He watched as Genesis quirked an eyebrow in his direction and he shrugged. He hadn't chosen his name, but he didn't think it was all that odd anymore. The commander shook his head, still smiling, and raised the book again.

Have you been watching me?

Immediately Cloud ducked his head, hiding behind the fall of blond bangs. With a bit of hesitation, and a lot of internal arguing with a mischievous voice that sounded very much like Zack, Cloud finally scribbled out a reply.

Guilty. Sorry.

Looking up, he bit back a laugh when the commander said something and then rolled his eyes before writing it out.

Don't be. As far as stalkers go,
I think it could be worse.

Uh... thanks?

Cloud relaxed a bit when he saw the man's face light up with laughter.

So why are you watching me, Cloud?

It's better than washing windows.

Another laugh and Cloud felt himself grin. This wasn't so bad and if Genesis was planning on killing him later, well, he wasn't aware of it and didn't really want to be. Pushing any nervous feelings aside, he turned another page in the book and snorted when he read the newest message.

Good to know you're not bored out there.

The day went quickly after that and by lunch time Cloud had run out of paper; a fact that didn't seem to deter Genesis at all. Instead, the man got up and moved around the room, grabbing books and pictures to hold up in hopes that Cloud could see them. He could see some of them, but being on the side of the building across from the commander's made things a little blurry sometimes.

With an unhappy sigh, he pointed to his watch and waved. Much to his surprise, Genesis held up a finger and started scribbling again.

Wash my building tomorrow.
If someone asks, that's an order.

. . .

Lady Luck must have been on his side that morning because Zack was nowhere in sight.

And neither was Commander Hewley.

Grinning like an idiot, he set about getting his lift ready and washed up the highest level windows in the time he had before Genesis would be in his office. Three yellow note books were safely stored in the backpack he'd brought with him and secured to the lift. When the sun started reflecting off the side of the building, he lowered himself down the three floors between himself and Genesis' window and waved when the man looked up.

Cloud had to stop and stare for a moment.

He was so close...

Now, he could literally reach out and touch the window that was separating them; something that made the whole thing feel more solid, more real, and less like something stupid he'd dreamed up.

Movement behind the glass brought him back out of his thoughts and Genesis pointed to the paper in his hand. Good Morning!

You too,he wrote out with a grin.

They exchanged the normal pleasantries and eventually Genesis settled back behind his desk, feet propped up and sipping a white cup of something.

Can I ask you something?

An auburn brow flew up but Genesis nodded and waved a hand for him to go on.

Why didn't you report me?

The commander gave him a flat look. Why would I?

Why wouldn't you?

With a dramatic looking sigh, the man got up and rounded the desk, coming to stand directly in front of Cloud. Out of instinct, he pulled back a bit but stopped when Genesis frowned at him.

Why do you think I would report you?
It's not my job to keep track of Regs.

Well... he had a point, but Cloud had been watching him. Watching him. And it wasn't like he'd lied and told the man he hadn't been. Another gesture behind the window and Cloud looked directly at Genesis's expectant look.

I was watching you.
Isn't that, you know, weird?

Cloud nearly choked when he watched a brilliant blush steal over the commander's high cheek bones. For a long while, the man looked anywhere but at him. It was kind of strange to watch Genesis do everything he normally would—sigh, mutter, walk—and not be able to hear any of it. It was kind of surreal. When the commander picked up a sheet of paper, Cloud could almost imagine the sound it would make sliding over the leather of his gloves. When the sheet was held up, he felt his eyes widen to the size of saucers and he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh hysterically, or blush like an idiot. The feelings were meshing and the result was a weak sounding laugh and hot ears.

The blush on Genesis's cheeks was growing even more pronounced than before and, still slightly shocked, he watched as the man gave a sheepish shrug and tilted his head toward the paper, mouthing the words clearly.

I watch you when you train at
night on the weekends.
So... we're even.

. . .

End.