My eyes hurt.

I finally succumbed to the fact that had been menacingly mocking me for the past hour. My fingers were clearly demanding a respite, threatening to literally fall off if I stubbornly continued, and my brain had given up on me much earlier.

Yet, the ominous pile of documents screamed at me lest I thought of leaving them uncompleted.

This was not good.

I sighed, finally relenting to the burden of exhaustion.

How I wished that someone could drop by with a cup of homebrewed coffee. Come to think of it, in the state I was in, I won't say no to Scarlet.

For dropping by a cup of real coffee, I mean.

I wavered my gaze to the glaring computer screen, hastily noting the god-forsaken hour.

One in the morning.

How nice. It was tomorrow already.

Bending down, I clumsily groped for my seemingly lost shoe, biting my lip in determination not to let the splendid list of explanatives elude me. Oblivious to the crumpled collection that hung disgracefully on my being, I jammed on the shoe and staggered into the corridor, silently thanking the lord that not a soul was around to admire my fashionable attire.

I guess I had to make do with espresso in a styrofoam cup.

I shuffled out into the brightly-lit corridor, grimacing as I squinted my eyes shut against the harsh fluorescents. The hard soles of my expensive leather shoes dragged across the linoleum floor, amplified by the vacant surroundings. I was acutely aware that my footsteps resembled that of an extremely intoxicated man. Either that, or a manically enraged zombie.

Face the wrath of sleep deprivation, I smirked contemptly to myself.

After what seemed like an eternity trudging ungainly through the endless hall, the vending machine was considered a welcome sight. I leaned over, casually inserting the gil and thrusting the button. Sighing, I placed my back against the cold surface of the whitewashed wall, unconsciously dwelling on the irritating crack on the wall opposite me.

What a way to pass the night.

The mechanical whirring ceased. I extended my arm and lifted the cup to my lips, barely giving a glance to the murky, thick liquid.

Something to keep my awake.

After all, it was coffee, right?

No sooner had the scalding liquid travelled down my agonized throat and my tongue hysterically proclaiming the extent of bitterness that I deduced it was a no.

"Hot?"

The familiar but exceedingly unexpected voice startled me. I swerved, teary eyes struggling to focus at the fuzzy image before me.

"Oh, excuse me, how impolite," he sneered playfully, his sable eyes riveted on my peculiar antics with amusement. "Hot, sir?"

God, that guy had a knack of scaring me.

"I thought it seemed clear, Tseng," I finally replied, emphasizing the last word with utmost sarcasm, loosening the white-knuckled grip I had on the styrofoam cup.

Note to self : Never drink coffee from Shinra's vending machine.

It amazed me how a man could stay composed and utterly presentable in the dead of the night. He snickered, throwing me what I presumed was an amiable glance.

"Finally dared to venture out from your office, Reeve?"

"Is that the way you speak to your superiors?" I replied, my lips twisting into a mock gape of horror and disgust.

"Ah, no sir, not at all," he responded with an equal amount of sarcasm. He paused a moment before continuing, his tone peculiarly gentle.

"Actually, I thought you'd have gone home, assuming you had someone to return to, that is. Unlike me."

Was that a silent plea of loneliness?

"I don't. So I guess we're even then," I stammered. I wasn't exactly in the mood to don my so-called formal exterior. Besides, I've got an outfit to match.

Silence.

A sudden strong inclination drove me to stare mindlessly at the unappealing liquid I had in my grasp.

"Better get back to work then," he mumbled, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah," my tone was annoyingly reluctant. True, I rather enjoyed the momentary distraction, but somehow, I felt that something else was keeping me at bay. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll be off to Wutai first thing in the morning, I'm afraid," he replied, his voice as indifferent as ever, making me wonder whether the sudden vulnerability was a mistake on my part. "And I'm stuck here for the night as my car's in the garage."

Darn, why did he have to say that?

Option one. Be a devil and turn my back and run. Leaving him to think what a bastard I was.

Or option two. Be an angel and offer him a ride. If he declines, that's fine. But if he accepts... if he accepts...

Why am I so afraid of him accepting a lousy ride home?

My damned conscience overtook the somewhat deep denial I housed, as usual, as I blurted or rather, calmly shouted if you put it that way.

"I could drop you off on my way back."

It was my voice, but I think the little angel on my right shoulder said it for me, because I literally wanted to paw the words back.

Say no. Please say no. Just no. No...

"If it's not a burden..." he responded in a somewhat hesitant tone. "Thank you, sir. I believe I shall then."

Great.

"Reeve," I automatically corrected him, attempting a casual smile but failing miserably, ending up with a compelled bare of teeth.

I had to look like my passport photo.

Just don't ask me why it came out like that.

"I just need to get something from my office and we're leaving, ok?" I choked vehemently, at least, that was what it seemed like to me.

He nodded subtly.

This was going to be an eventful night. Wait... it was morning. Technically.

Well, it's a change, right?