sleazeoverstyle | (no subject)

(no subject)

"Strap in, Chuck." He does the final check and all systems are a go. Of friggin' course they are; he does the maintenance on this helicopter himself whenever he can. Shin-Ra 3, ready and waiting. Because he can, he reaches over and adjusts the noise-reduction phones on Charlie's head, shows her how to use the mic so she can talk to him over the noise of the rotors, makes sure her seat belt's all fastened up the right way, and hands her a map of the known world, or the planet Gaia, whichever she wants to call it. There's a big red X next to Midgar.

"We're here. We got enough fuel in this thing to make it just about anywhere, and I can always put down for more if we need it. Any of those place names strike your fancy, Pie Lady?" There are some places he'd talk her out of goin' on general principle. Like... he just went to Costa del Sol and Gold Saucer with Lara and he ain't sure how much more fun in the sun he can stand. But there's all sorts of shit to do, from the port at Junon to a flyby of the Northern Crater, to the pretty little town of Nibelheim. The only place he ain't gonna go is Wutai, 'cause there's people there who don't like him real well.

Wait, what the hell's he sayin'? There's people everywhere who don't like him real well. But still, he ain't goin' to Wutai.

"Except here." He points the skinny little sliver of world out to her. "Or if nothin' calls to you by name, we can just fly around for a while and stop where we feel like stoppin'." He has to file some sort of flight plan, but he'll figure that out.

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So she's pretty glued to the window and it's adorable and attractive and all that good shit, and he ain't gonna fuck with the moment or nothin'. If she was someone else he'd probably be sittin' here in the pilot's seat planning on how he could use this to his advantage, but there's this funny thing about Charlie: he likes her. A lot, and in this sweet and genuine way that's about a hundred percent foreign to him. He doesn't get like that. Not over anyone. So it's like... like he ain't got a clue what to do about it, and he almost wishes he could've pulled Tasha aside yesterday and sat her down and said what the fuck do I do?

But he didn't, and he wouldn't, and that's that, and they're here over the crater, so he keeps 'em here for just a couple more minutes before heading north-northwest, up and around, then turning back toward the south. He has to be mindful of fuel.

This time they take a little different route, over Icicle Inn, and he points that out to her, tells her people go there for snowboarding. But he's got the feeling that after the crater, some mountain town ain't gonna be all that interesting so they don't linger.

There's more to see in other places.

As they pull away from the crater, Charlie's head swivels, trying to keep it in view as long as possible. As the helicopter swivels to finally put it out of sight she seems to shake herself from her reverie. "Wow," she breathes. "You were right."

And then things settle back to something approaching normal for her. Charlie looks where Reno points and listens to his explanations and his stories and asks occasionally ridiculous questions ("Is it actually made of icicles?") and generally has a whole lot of fun and isn't shy about letting him know.

"So where are we going next?" she asks, still glowing a bit from her experience over the crater.

Yeah, she's all impressed and everything, and he's had a change of plans. "Look on the map and see if you can find Costa del Sol."

Change of plans, change of pace. "We're gonna put down there and refuel, stretch our legs, get somethin' to eat, and then we're going over to Junon if we have time. You'll get to see two real different coastlines in one day."

Why the fuck not, right? All this tryin' to keep shit different from what he did with Lara, and how come? 'Cause Lara's a different type of lady? Maybe. But they have to refuel sometime, and that's the best and closest stop for it.

And Charlie deserves it too. There's all those little shops there and he could buy her a bangle or somethin', as promised. She's suddenly the last person he wants to disappoint.

"I see it!" Charlie exclaims proudly as she points at the dot on the map. "It's..." she starts to point out the window in the appropriate direction, but she doesn't actually know which way they need to go, so her hand drops and she blushes. "Um... I hope you know how to get there."i

"You're a fuck of a copilot, Chuck. Now we're gonna be stuck circlin' around until we run out of fuel." Fuck, Chuck, stuck: what, he's turnin' into a friggin' poet. He gives her a smug little grin and heads southeast. They'll be over open water again eventually, but for now he hugs the coastline of the Northern continent 'cause it's prettier and more interesting and pretty much just because.

Reaching over, he pats her cheek. "You doin' okay, lady? Still havin' fun?" For whatever reason, it matters. Shit. He hopes that doesn't become some friggin' habit with him.

What the fuck ever: he radios in the change of destination, gives an estimated arrival time over to the heliport at Costa del Sol. Refueling, he figures, can be on Corporate but the rest is on him.

Charlie's face heats at his touch but she grins at the same time she blushes. "It's all so amazing," she gushes. "The crater... Your description didn't really do it justice." Charlie tries to sound chiding and disappointed, but it just comes out as giddy and excited.

She laughs and blushes again and looks down at her lap. "I'm really glad you invited me," she says quietly.

"Eh." He's all offhand and shit. "I figure there's pie in my future. You know, as payment for all this trouble." She's so friggin' cute when she blushes; he keeps going. "Nah, I'm just kidding. I'm glad I invited you too. You're sweet, and sure, the bar's a great place, but I'd get sick of it if I couldn't leave whenever I wanted to. So sure. My pleasure."

He actually means it.

And good thing he changed up the itinerary. This is a day full of flying and it's a good thing this is a comfortable helicopter or she'd hate him by the end of it, but a break to stretch their legs will be nice.

"You ready for open ocean again?" It's a moot question, 'cause ready or not, they're goin'. It won't take real long to get there from here. Half hour, maybe.

Charlie blushes at him again, but it doesn't seem to slow her grinning down any.

"I'm ready," she enthuses. "And since there won't be any sights you can totally tell me more about your family." Or anything, really. Charlie's sort of easily distractable, after all.

For that, he gives her A Look.

"You met 'em. What more do you want to know?"

No lady's ever asked him about his friggin' family before. Is this the kind of thing normal people do? He ain't sure.

Using anything Charlie does as a baseline for "normal" almost has to be a bad idea. Reno'll probably realize that if he thinks about it for a minute or two.

But she answers easily. "Well, I only just met them, and they were nice, but that doesn't mean I know much about them. I mean, there have to be embarrassing stories and stuff, right?"

"Aww, shit, Charlie." He'd run his hand through his hair if he didn't have those headphones on to block the motion. "Ain't it embarrassing enough I have to be the baby of the family?" What's he gonna tell her, that his oldest brother used to call him Squirt? Or about that time Riley cheated at knives? Or about when he was fourteen and stayed with him like every friggin' weekend he could?

Those ain't stories he just gives away.

"Well, that's a start," she laughs, oblivious to any discomfort in his tone. It's not that Charlie's bad at picking up on peoples' moods, but she's just so used to thinking of Reno as carefree and easy-going. He doesn't get uncomfortable, right?

"How about this." He steers out due south, water sparkling like a line of silk billowing gently in the breeze below them. "You ask me a question about 'em and I'll answer."

He doesn't promise to answer truthfully. Just to come up with an answer, but he won't point that out to Charlie. Nah, a guy's got to hold on to a little bit of mystique or at least a tiny shred of dignity.

Just enough to hang onto so he could say he's got something going for him.

"I suppose that's fair," Charlie agrees. She taps her chin thoughtfully then grins. "Did you ever beat up any of your sister's boyfriends because you didn't approve of them?"

"Nah." He taps the fingers of his left hand on the base of his seat. "She's six years older than me. I was still too little to beat 'em up by the time she had any."

Also, like he cared who she went out with. They weren't close or nothin', but Charlie doesn't know that. Why should she?

Charlie just assumes everyone treats family the way she would. "Then," she smirks teasingly, "did she ever beat up any of your girlfriends?"

"You're assuming she gave a fuck." Which she didn't. "And that I had girlfriends."

And that's enough said about that. Nah, he'll keep her wonderin' on that one. For a little while, anyway.

"Aww. I bet you had tons of girlfriends!" Charlie declares. "I mean, you're sweet and funny and handsome and--" then she realizes what she just said and claps her hand over her mouth.

You're oh-for-three, Charlie, he thinks, but he ain't stupid enough to say it aloud or nothin'. Instead, he hands her the thermos and his cup. "You mind pourin'?"

When in doubt, divert attention. It's a Turks trick as old as the friggin' hills and it'll save 'em both from this line of questioning.

Anyhow, the coffee's pretty good and he doesn't want to waste it... like he ever gave a fuck about that before.

Charlie's oblivious to any of the undercurrents going on, but she is easily distracted and she nods as she takes the thermos and pours, waiting for him to answer. Or to say something.

Or not to. She's easy.

"Thanks." The coffee's still kinda warm, and that's good enough for him. "So here's the deal, Miss Chuck. I had three brothers. Three older brothers. I didn't have a friggin' chance to bring home any girlfriends. Not with them around. Shameless bastards."

Maybe that'll make sense to her. Or maybe not, but he'll find out one way or the other.

She frowns, muddling her way through that for a moment or two. Then she giggles, then she looks embarrassed for giggling. "One of them stole your girlfriend?" she asked, trying to sound severe but clearly amused despite herself.

One eyebrow raised, he glances over at her. "Lowell, you met him. He's only four years older than me. You try bringin' a girl home when you have a brother four years older. He was like a friggin' magnet to 'em. Bowie and Riley, they were too old for that."

One of these days she's gonna ask him about Riley, 'cause he wasn't at the party for her to meet. But maybe they can get to Costa del Sol first.

Maybe.

Or maybe not.

Charlie looks over at him, frowning a bit. "Does Riley travel a lot?" It's totally not a non-sequiter to her.

"Nah."

The coffee really is pretty good; he swallows it back.

"He's dead."