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Reno ([info]itsmydayoff) wrote in [info]chaosunraveled,
@ 2009-09-26 01:06:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:finished thread, rating: pg-13, reno, rufus, setting: emptiness

Who: Reno and Rufus
When: After Family Day
Where: Emptiness
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Probably language, and Rufus being weird?
What: Rufus and Reno have a chat about recent goings-on. ...things can never just be normal around here.

It was with some trepidation that Reno approached the "usual place" in Emptiness--a little restaurant, somewhat out of the way, that served as a nice place to sit and talk when the need arose. Rufus had sent him a message earlier asking for a meeting.

Reno didn't really doubt what it would be about. They had never really managed to talk about that whole incident with Maria and Ryuzaki, and as much as he kind of hoped it was something that could just be forgotten or ignored, it wasn't. Too many glances had passed at the time--we'll talk--to just leave it hanging like they had been so far. At the same time, Reno wasn't sure he had anything to say. Yeah, I'm dating someone from Asgard. I have been for months. I didn't say anything because I just didn't want to. Happy now? No? Too bad. Deal with it. ...yeah, right.

Rufus deserved a better response than that.

He sighed as he pushed open the door of their meeting place, fully expecting Rufus to already be sitting there. Reno wasn't late, but he had come to generally expect Rufus to be early.

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-26 11:26 pm UTC (link)
Rufus hadn't been sitting more than ten minutes when the Turk arrived. Punctual, Reno?

There was only one chair at the table Rufus had chosen— and Rufus was in it. He was facing the door, but not sitting in front of it: flanking position, as it were. He sat back and waited silently for the Turk to close the door and stand at attention. Reno had always been lax with regulation, but besides the odd slap on the wrist when he took it too far there had never been reason to punish the Turk: he was slouched and sloppy and carried the edges of a slum drawl, but there was never a doubt he would do his job, and do it damn well. Never before, that is. Since Rufus had arrived at Niflheim, their relationship as employer and employee, ShinRa and Turk, had become more informal than ever, and right now the President wanted it clear that this was business. Therefore, they would conduct this meeting formally.

Back on Gaia, Reno's behavior was set in relief against that of Tseng and Rude and Elena who had, for the most part, adhered to the rules. It had stunk of rebellion, plain and simple. Here, without a model to defy, what he was doing was... something much more sincere. Rufus would have to keep a shorter leash on the Turk, active immediately. Without Tseng there to keep Reno it line, the redhead was clearly in danger of falling out of the Company's control. But Rufus could keep a single Turk in order on his own, even if that Turk was Reno.

Hands folded neatly on the table, (and he missed having a proper desk, dammit,) over a pile of papers and an ebony fountain pen that he'd managed to materialize somehow, Rufus canted his head to the side, just a fraction of a degree. He began the way he normally did, when meeting with Turks.

"Status report."

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-27 04:26 am UTC (link)
Reno eyed the setup curiously, immediately noting the lack of a chair. Right. Thanks boss. He stood about as "at attention" as he ever did, which meant slouched, hands in pockets, giving Rufus a thoroughly incredulous look as an alternative to rolling his eyes.

"Do those papers actually mean something, or are they just there to make you feel better?" Somehow, it was just a little hard to take the scene in front of him seriously. Rufus, sitting at a table in a restaurant, covered with assorted desk stuff that had either been materialized out of nowhere or brought for the specific purpose of scattering onto a table (the latter being a rather disturbing thought, in Reno's opinion), acting like this was home and nothing had changed and every meeting they'd had in this place up until now hadn't involved both of them sitting at a table, probably with drinks in front of them. I don't think your office had a kitchen in the back, sir.

He paused a moment, trying to mentally kick himself into something approximating the business-like mode Rufus apparently wanted out of him.

"Right, status report." Trying, and failing. "...I'm good, how 'bout you?"

He sighed, the generally incredulous look fading from his expression, and made one more attempt at saying something useful.

"Nothing of interest other than stuff you already know."

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-28 08:30 pm UTC (link)
Winter blue eyes narrowed. The papers on Rufus' desk were hard copies of Cuthbert's "private" journal entries, a poem by one Robert Browning, detailed accounts of the individuals in Niflheim and Asgard, record-keeping (such as it was) and personal notes. Rufus had not brought them for show.

He might, he realized, have accepted or even returned Reno's banter, recently. Away from ShinRa (he forced his mind not to recoil from the train of thought: he had been away from ShinRa, and it had affected him, somehow) he had been forced to temper his usual detachment in order to carve himself a niche: the same detachment which had kept him apart from Reno in the past, the tones of their tempers were discordant. Tseng had always stepped in on those occasions when he and Reno had been at real risk of clashing, and there had never been a real problem. But Tseng wasn't here, and Rufus was remembering how frustrating Reno was. Accordingly, it was time to make a few changes.

"I see." He spoke very softly, looking Reno in the eye. "Let us avoid the production of discussing the enemy." Rufus slid the second copy of Cuthbert's journals out of his pile of papers and turned it face down. He'd intended to hold off on this next part, to make Reno sweat through a full meeting before Rufus came to the reaming. But the President was tired, and his temper was frayed to a degree he associated with a great deal more pressure than he currently faced. What did he have to do for the business, after all? Nothing. Nothing but this next part. Cold eyes glittering, he lobbed his bomb. "We shall go straight to the question of whether or not I do know everything of interest, since it seems I must question you at your word."

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-28 09:06 pm UTC (link)
So there it was, plain and simple. He'd half expected Rufus to have some other things to talk about as well, to lead the discussion away from the one Reno knew was coming up until the end, and make him worry. And maybe he had planned it that way, and just decided not to bother.

Then again, he would never have accused the man sitting in front of him of beating around the bush.

It seems I must question you at your word. The phrasing made Reno bristle ever so slightly. For all that he hadn't told him much of anything, he had never directly lied about it, either, not once. The insinuation that he might have was nothing short of frustrating. But hadn't he neatly avoided mentioning the subject this whole time, and led Rufus to believe (as everyone else presumably believed) that this was a thing of the past? There was a difference between not telling a lie and telling the truth.

"Says the man who apparently decided he needed to spy on me," Reno muttered under his breath, and he was just displeased enough with the situation that he didn't really care that that had been audible. He caught Rufus' eyes with his, a brief shrug failing to make that gaze any less intense.

"I was going to say something to you about her, you know."

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-28 09:27 pm UTC (link)
"You are my Turk. My only Turk." Rufus did not watch the Turks to the degree that they watched him— that was the definition of their relationship, and the measure of his extensive trust in them. But keeping tabs on them was part of his role as their master and protector. For Reno to insinuate that there was something wrong with that.... Rufus smothered a snarl, forced away the urge to shove to his feet and slam his hands upon the table. He remained perfectly still.

"You were going to tell me. Was there a timeframe on this resolution, or was it simply 'when you could no longer conceal the situation?' In which case I'd say everything is going according to plan." His fingers on the table drummed once, slowly.

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-28 09:48 pm UTC (link)
Rufus sat still, and yet Reno caught the sentiment. Alright, maybe the bit about spying was a little unfair--he knew, even before, that that hadn't really been Rufus' intention--but he wasn't about to take it back. As for the other question, he wasn't sure how to answer. He had never entirely decided when he was going to say something, or what he was going to say, just that it wasn't supposed to have been uncovered in a random bar somewhere in a mess with all three of them plus one entirely uninvited guest present.

"I... don't know, really." He sighed, and wished Rufus had given him the luxury of a chair to flop into.

"I've been dating Maria for a handful of months now. At first, we both thought we might get information out of each other, but gave up on that idea pretty quick. I don't tell her anything useful and she doesn't tell me anything useful, either." He shrugged again. "Aside from most of Niflheim catching something of it in the beginning, we've kept it quiet, for obvious reasons. Nobody other than you and Ryuzaki knows we've seen each other since." He seemed to ponder something for a brief moment. "How you guys managed to both find us at the same time is something I'll never figure out."

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-28 10:11 pm UTC (link)
It was peculiar, indeed, the encounter with Rufus and L and Reno and Maria, except that Rufus didn't really give a damn about that right now. Appeased that Reno was talking, he nevertheless lost none of the tension in his spine.

"I wonder more if we are the only ones to make the discovery." Unspoken was the sentiment that a Turk should never let himself be followed. That Reno had sunken to taking such demeaning risks meant the Turk was bored. Rufus could fix that.

"I'm giving you a new assignment, which I expect completed as soon as possible. In the meantime, since the woman has proven useless as a source, you are to abandon your 'relationship' with her immediately. Whatever you did extract from her that could possibly be of use I expect you to report to me."

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-28 10:23 pm UTC (link)
"No." The reply was immediate and it took him half a second to realize he had even responded to what Rufus had said. A very brief pause followed, as he let his thoughts settle into order.

"I mean, no problem with a new assignment, whatever. But I'm not abandoning my relationship with her." He said it with a tone of finality that he hoped Rufus wouldn't press. Hoped in vain, most likely, but he could wish nonetheless. There was no way he was going to let Rufus drag him away from one of the only things that made living in this place tolerable if there was anything he could do about it.

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-28 10:48 pm UTC (link)
Rufus blinked and drew back a fraction of an inch. The edge of murder bled from his eyes as Reno began to backpedal, only to sharpen again when it became clear the Turk truly was refusing an order. His hands flexed slightly, fingers tense, but did not clench. His lungs felt oddly compressed.

"I was not asking." The words came out as a hiss, nevertheless faintly incredulous under the scorching cold. His voice gained strength and vitriol. "You can find your pleasure elsewhere— with someone who can be bedded for information, if you insist upon raiding Asgard's stock."

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-28 11:17 pm UTC (link)
Reno couldn't rightly say that hadn't been the response he was expecting. He also couldn't say it didn't piss him off. This was why he hadn't ever said anything before. This was why he'd kept it secret from a man he would trust with just about anything else. Because he knew the reply he would get was that. Part of him saw how angry that simple refusal had made Rufus and was silently advising him to back off. The rest didn't give a damn whether Rufus was angry or not.

"I'm not asking, either," he returned with equal venom. "And if this was just about me having someone to sleep with, I wouldn't be arguing." Let Rufus make what he would of that veiled admission. If he wanted to, Reno could work his way into the pants of anyone in this ridiculous place, and Rufus knew him well enough to know that. It wasn't the issue at hand.

It had briefly occurred to him to say that maybe he could take Rufus' advice and find himself a horse, but he knew better than to step on that sore spot. He was trying to make a point, not get himself killed.

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-29 12:00 am UTC (link)
The chair clattered to the floor, making a noisy escape. Rufus froze again, going unnaturally still. His already limited vision was pulsing slightly, and the tightness in his chest had worsened— he was always quiet in anger, but now he couldn't have raised his voice if he tried.

"'A Turk shall have no relations outside of work besides those which are or will be of benefit of the company,'" he recited, voice so low Reno might have had to strain to hear it if the room, the whole "town" had not been so unnaturally, eerily quiet. "'He is the property of the President, and shall enforce the President's will without question, be the Turk injured or malcontent.'" They were old rules, written long before Rufus' time, and he had never enforced to their fullest extent. He was all but hissing them by the end.

"You have nothing but what I deign to give you, Turk: not the shirt on your back nor the hole you fuck." His fingers curled into slow, white fists. "If you don't like it, go ahead and quit."

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-29 01:37 am UTC (link)
Reno kept his gaze locked on Rufus as the other man spoke. His stance was perfectly still, defiant. Reno had never been fond of rules, and was even less so now that they were being quoted at him in a complete lack of context. This wasn't home. Things hadn't been the way they were when those rules were written for along time now. And no matter what he'd like to think, Rufus wasn't the President of anything in this place. There is no "company" here.

"You can't be serious," he replied, his voice calculatedly flat so as not to betray the nervousness that threatened to seep into him as he thought about the meaning of that last line. When you quit the Turks, you quit breathing. That was a concept very well pounded into his head from the day he joined. He wouldn't be at all surprised if Rufus intended to uphold it, dumb as that would be in this case.

"I'm the only Turk you've got here, and you're going to pull that shit on me? The only person here who's loyal to you?" He moved forward, his hands landing on the edge of the table opposite Rufus as he stared the man in the eye. "And don't you fucking dare say I'm not. Anyone who's put up with as much shit from you as I have and doesn't hate your fucking guts is loyal." He paused just a second to let that sink in before continuing. "And now you're saying if I have a love life you don't happen to agree with, it negates everything else? That I don't have a choice about anything? I have no intention to quit, but like hell I'm going to stand here and let you tell me I'm not a person, not now, not here, not after everything. That's not the way things are and you know it." He shifted his weight back off the table without stepping back, and shifted his gaze off to the side.

"You know, I thought you were reasonable. I thought having stuck by you for fucking years would count for something. I thought maybe somewhere in that cold soul of yours you actually gave a damn about me." I thought you were better than your father. He looked at Rufus with eyes that betrayed a lot of anger, a little fear, and more than a little hurt. "...maybe I was wrong."

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-29 03:54 pm UTC (link)
Rufus heard the words Reno left unspoken, the implication that lay at the culmination of the Turk's grievances. He felt the shredding cold touch of his oldest ghost in the damning review, eclipsing all else. The blood drained from his face, leaving him white to match his suit, though his skin felt hot. Red suffused his vision, and his breath was a rough thread of air being tugged through the raw pipette of his throat. Bone-white knuckles flexed, creaky, and his nails dug into the flesh of his palms as though fisted in the folds of his self-control and physically holding it in place. Anyone but Rufus ShinRa might have attacked the Turk then; might have lunged across the table and fastened aching hands about that elegant white throat with enough force to bruise it pure black, tiny blood vessels bursting in the Turk's face and fire-green eyes as Rufus' thumbs crushed one wall of his trachea flush against the other and starved him of air until he stopped moving. No words, no blood, just strength and ruthless, tireless patience.

How dare you.

The only movement was the taut quiver of Rufus' shoulders. Otherwise he held utterly still, and drew silk-thin strands of air into his lungs, each filament sliding through his throat with a faint wheeze in the silence. It was a long time before he had enough air to speak.

"I," he breathed, "do not care if you despise me." His throat closed entirely, so abruptly he nearly fell back. Instead he dropped his head and raised his shoulders, playing off the flash of directionless panic that stole through him as suppressed rage. There passed a long stretch as his vision darkened, and he placed his hands flat on the table for balance, still lightheadedly striving to keep his stance enraged. A thread of air teased through his throat. Another. He grasped them, pulling them in hand over hand, and gradually they came faster, easier. He straightened and found the Turk's glare again. "I do not care," he continued finally, voice only slightly rough, "if you follow me because you are 'loyal,' or if you follow me because it is convenient." His hands were trembling on the table, and he leaned more weight on, pressing them still. "I do not care, so long as you follow me. So long as you obey me.

"But if you are not willing to do your job," breathe, "and you do not have the dignity to quit," obey me, end this, he was building walls around the Turk, penning him in, finally feeling he had something solid with which to direct the Turk, because Reno will never leave his job, even if he could do so and live, "then I will fire you.

"Because you are not a person. You are a Turk. And therefore," he snarled, hands curling on the desk, "you are mine."

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-29 10:46 pm UTC (link)
Reno just stared at him, running the other man's words back through his mind.

Do I want to leave? No, he never had, and he didn't now.

Am I really not willing to do my job? No, he liked his job. What he didn't like was one particular order.

Do I despise him? No, not that either. Though right now, he thought he'd be well within his rights if he did.

"You're not listening, dammit! We're standing here arguing about one point, one thing I disagree with you on, and you think it's the fucking end of the world. You want me to follow you and you don't give a rat's ass that I have followed you and that aside from that one point, I never had any intention of stopping. But if you're going to say that if I disagree with you in one case then nothing else matters, fine. If none of it matters, then I guess I don't need to waste the effort." He fixed Rufus with a solid stare.

"One point. Concede it, and everything else goes back to normal. But if that's not good enough for you, if you'd rather have nothing than someone who would follow you, well," he paused, turning as if to leave, tossing the last bit of his statement over his shoulder as he took a step away, "your loss."

It was a dangerous feint; he didn't want to leave and he even less wanted to get himself killed, but for the moment, it seemed the only way to knock some sense into Rufus' head. He could only hope that some of what he'd just said would sink in. I don't want to leave you and I don't want to leave her, either. Quit trying to make it mutually exclusive.

At the very least, he didn't think Rufus was likely to shoot him as he was walking away. As angry as the other man was, he still needed Reno too much. He was about 99% sure that this stunt wasn't actually going to result with a bullet in his back.

Well, maybe more like 90%, but even so. He'd gambled his life on worse odds than that before. And he'd long ago trained himself to not think about the possibility of him being wrong.

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-30 07:48 pm UTC (link)
Reason— Rufus needed reason. Reason had always been his weapon, had always been his tool, but here it was eluding him, taking Reno's words and scrambling them instead of picking them apart into orderly, classifiable pieces that he could twist to fit his will. One point, Reno said. Concede it.

It isn't that simple, Rufus knew. I let you bend the rules, I let you break them, and not rarely! This is— different. And the "why" of it was really very simple... if only Rufus could remember. He was scrambling up the wall of his thoughts.

Reno turned to leave.

...Reno wouldn't leave the Turks. Some things couldn't be taken apart, not even if the world was ending. Especially not if the world was ending. Reno would forever be a Turk. He was Reno of the Turks! Reno outside of the Turks was.... What is he doing?

Rufus' hand slipped under his coat, in one smooth motion tugging his gun from its holster on his side, clicking off the safety and raising it one-handed.

It was one of Rufus' earliest lessons, and perhaps the one he'd learned the best. He had never hesitated to apply it to any aspect of his life: Sentimentality is the deadliest trap. Crush it, and move on. The back of Reno's head drifted into his sights. Don't mistake opportunism for cowardice. It was Veld's voice that rang loud and clear in the President's memories. Veld, the Turk. Veld, the deserter. Chased out of the Turks' ranks by Rufus' father.

Reno, the deserter.

Gun arm dropping, Rufus rounded the table before he even realized he was moving, ignoring a flash of pain as his hip crashed against the corner of the table. Then his throat closed again and he had to stop, or else black out. Where is he going?!

Rufus' memory flew suddenly to Yako walking out his bedroom door clad only in his shirt. He remembered the terror that had gripped him as she left, and inspired him to leap in front of her— and how familiar it had been. There was the fabricated déjà vu from a life he never lived... and there was something solid. Something real. It was kindling, gunpowder, ready-made for the spark of Reno walking out the door. No! No no no!

He closed the distance between them by a few quick strides, despite the way his vision darkened and swam. The word emerged from his throat as a bare, enraged rasp.

"Stop!"

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-30 08:28 pm UTC (link)
Reno heard the click of the gun and wondered if he'd miscalculated that. Maybe he'd pushed it too far. Maybe he really was about to die. It wasn't the first time he'd had that thought, and it still on some level amazed him how calmly he thought it.

Of course, hadn't he said to Maria a while back that he wouldn't be surprised if Rufus shot him if he pissed him off enough? Oh irony.

But there wasn't a gunshot to follow the click. Instead, a flurry of motion culminating with Rufus appearing between Reno and the door, commanding him to stop. He complied, for now, giving him a blank look that conveyed none of the relief of Rufus not shooting him, or the curiosity at the utter terror in Rufus' face, or the anger that still remained, or the hope that Rufus had actually decided to listen to him, or anything else he might be feeling. He merely asked one simple question.

"Why?"

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-30 09:05 pm UTC (link)
The dam of anger stopping up his throat seemed to be comprised of glass shards. Rufus ignored it.

With speed he couldn't have duplicated on command, Rufus dropped his gun and lunged at the Turk, smashing him backward toward the wall with all of his strength, intending to pin him bodily. One hand rose to fist in Reno's ponytail while the other wrapped tenderly about the Turk's throat, the ball of his thumb applying light pressure to his adam's apple, but not enough to close his throat. His lips smashed hungrily against the Turk's, as though he might breathe in Reno's air for what he lacked, plying him with his teeth and tongue even as his vision darkened almost completely.

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-30 09:09 pm UTC (link)
About the last thing Reno had expected right then was for Rufus to charge him. It was a logical enough conclusion when Rufus hadn't shot him; if the man had been planning on killing him, the way to do it was with a gun. It had already been thoroughly established that Rufus shouldn't be able to take Reno in hand-to-hand combat. So for a split second, the Turk was too surprised to react, and found himself being slammed against a wall.

Oh good, he thought, decided not to shoot me so he's just going to beat me up, inste-- Huh?

Okay, so if he hadn't expected Rufus to charge him, the concept of Rufus kissing him was akin to being struck by lightning. His mind shut down for a moment--though his lips, without any shred of his conscious knowledge, readily responded to the intrusion--before pulling itself back together enough for him to make an attempt at shoving Rufus away from him, at the very least succeeding in getting his mouth free.

"What the fuck?!"

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-30 09:52 pm UTC (link)
Rufus fell away easily, stumbling sideways into the wall, leaning against it heavily as the strength in his legs and the commands of his inner ear deserted him, the way his vision had, the way his hearing was. He was breathing in heavy, wheezing gasps that seemed to suck at his bones, but still only the barest amount of air reached his lungs, and the terror of suffocation only made the problem worse.

The words panic attack trickled into and out of his sluggish thoughts, and the faint memory of a white-coat flickered into existence over the sensory replay of how Reno's lips felt against his own; and the doctor was saying something about post-traumatic stress and triggers... warm, firm... breathe in CO2.... Rufus cupped shaking hands over his mouth, over slightly swollen lips, his brain not so much processing the command as simply giving it.

He was facing Reno when his vision began to clear. His eyes immediately tracked downward to the Turk's— reddened, slightly parted —lips. It is a hallucination, some part of his mind provided helpfully, just like Yako being in my bed. The ball of panic started building in his throat again. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. I need to get out of here.

One steadying hand still pressed against the wall, Rufus began backing toward the door.

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-30 10:12 pm UTC (link)
Reno leaned against the wall Rufus had pushed him into, catching his breath and trying in vain to process what had just happened. Rufus started backing away, and he couldn't quite bring himself to care, even though that argument they had been having remained completely unresolved. That had just been too fucking weird for him to really think straight just yet.

He peered at Rufus, trying to see if he could find any clues. Something is wrong, was his first thought. I don't care, was the second. He kicked himself for that, and reached out to grab hold of Rufus' arm before he managed to run away and disappear completely. It was a half-hearted grab.

"What's going on?"

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[info]whosoldtheworld
2009-09-30 11:19 pm UTC (link)
It was a half-hearted grab, and Rufus was having none of it, tugging his arm free and falling farther away from the Turk.

He needed to get away from Reno. He needed to be some place alone, and he needed to not run into anyone on his way there. The Peng Eye flared to life at a spare thought, a familiar tool in practiced hands. The flood of elation that came with the spell hit him like a wall, and he plotted his course away from the redhead swiftly and happily, unconcerned with why he needed an escape route. When he sank back into his own body it was to a chorus of physiological miscues: residual joy ebbing away the panic and clearing his thoughts enough for him to realize he had just used the Peng Eye in front of Reno; enough for him to begin to truly grasp the essence of their argument today, in this "meeting" that had turned into a disaster; and enough for him to register that he had— his fingers flew to his lips. His eyes lifted again to the disheveled Turk.

A comedy of errors. The President of ShinRa had broken enough people in the past to recognize when he had a man defeated. Coming here, doing this today had been a mistake. It was time to retreat.

"It doesn't matter," he whispered.

And then Rufus ShinRa fled, bolting through the door like a child and not looking back.

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[info]itsmydayoff
2009-09-30 11:26 pm UTC (link)
Reno wasn't at all surprised when Rufus shook his arm free of the grip. But as he stepped away, the Turk looked to his face again, catching, only briefly, a flash of yellow. He blinked, and when his eyes opened again, the other man's looked normal. Was he imagining things now?

He didn't respond to Rufus' statement that it didn't matter, though he hadn't really given him a chance. The other man was out the door, and Reno couldn't help but be just a little grateful for that fact. He slid down the wall to slump unceremoniously on the floor.

"What the fuck just happened?" he murmured, only half realizing he'd said it aloud. He didn't expect he would figure out the answer to that any time soon.

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