[ Reno looks good. Really good. Fucking gorgeous, actually. Not like Tseng has had much time to make eyes at him, not lately. He and Rude have been keeping busy shaking down the underground fighting circuits, keeping SOLDIER fat and fed with new candidates, skimming a little product off the top for independent ventures. Between that and the farm, it's been a blur. Add Rufus to the mix and Tseng's barely had time to take a piss between meetings and rendezvous and emergency extrications. If he didn't know any better, he'd doubt himself, suspect this job was just a setup to get himself some time alone with Reno.
But he's not that stupid. It's been days now of torturing himself over how important this lead really is to him. He loves Reno, trusts him with his life, but his networks are a different story. His hustles are a different story. And getting Reno involved in a high-stakes game like this? That's a whole different genre. It's been hell, but now there's no going back on it. Tseng's made his decision. ]
Not long. You're just in time.
[ He whistles three notes. A stooped little old woman with a sun-leathered face ducks under the noren with a plate of stir-fried potatoes and two steaming cups of tea. Tseng bows his head curtly, says something in what sounds like a clipped, differently-intoned Wutainese dialect, and gestures to Reno with a tilt of his head. He presses something into her hand and she turns on her heels, hurrying away.
Tseng breaks apart a pair of chopsticks and offers them across the table. ]
no subject
But he's not that stupid. It's been days now of torturing himself over how important this lead really is to him. He loves Reno, trusts him with his life, but his networks are a different story. His hustles are a different story. And getting Reno involved in a high-stakes game like this? That's a whole different genre. It's been hell, but now there's no going back on it. Tseng's made his decision. ]
Not long. You're just in time.
[ He whistles three notes. A stooped little old woman with a sun-leathered face ducks under the noren with a plate of stir-fried potatoes and two steaming cups of tea. Tseng bows his head curtly, says something in what sounds like a clipped, differently-intoned Wutainese dialect, and gestures to Reno with a tilt of his head. He presses something into her hand and she turns on her heels, hurrying away.
Tseng breaks apart a pair of chopsticks and offers them across the table. ]
These are way better than french fries.