It's luck. It's chance. It's fate. Couple of old-timers sitting out in the town square are talking about it over their chess game. Rude stares at them for a bit, wondering if he and Reno will live long enough to get there. Not likely. Even if a Turk's job was a little safer, checkers is more Reno's style. Bit by bit, the conversation filters over.
“Young people.”
A snort. “Reckless.”
“Well, he did have a sword. Looked like it's seen some action.”
“Still, to just walk back out there with night coming on? Leave your damn bike out in the field, dammit.”
“Exactly. Fix it in the morning. Not like an elfadunk is going to ride it away.”
“Was he blond?” Rude butts in and wishes he could kick himself. Too late, it's done and the old geezers don't seem to mind.
“Blond as I've ever seen,” one says.
“And a head like a chocobo's ass. Couldn't miss it for the world.”
That's all Rude needs to hear. He nods his thanks and runs off to where Reno parked the truck. The old guys watch him go. “Friend of his, I guess.”
“Maybe.” The other shrugs. “So many kids these days are spiking their hair, how can you tell one from the other?”
“Mmhmm, it's that Cloud Strife's fault.” A rook goes down. “Word spread he has spiky hair and now everybody's hero-worshiping. Your move.”
Title: The Stranger Characters: Rude, Cloud. Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 536
The truck's not as slick as some of the other rides Shinra's had in its day, but it'll get a body from place to place. There's one road out of Kalm and Rude takes it, speeding. Calm down, calm down, he tells himself, even as the truck catches air over the rocks.
There's still light left, the bright yellow kind that comes at the end of day. It's just like Cloud's hair, come to think of it. Bright fucking yellow. Rude snorts, mostly at himself. There's an odd poetic streak that he's never been able to excise, so he's buried it deep instead. Reno has an inkling but doesn't make it an issue as much as he could. What would Cloud think if Rude told him his hair was like a golden sunset?
He keeps an eye out for anything different on the horizon, or on the road. It's quite a way out before he spots a lone figure in black, marching steadily. Rude pulls the wheel and takes the truck off road, pulling alongside. He slows just enough as he approaches and unlocks the door.
“Hop in.”
Cloud glances over, never breaking his stride. “Sorry, I don't take rides from strangers.” He looks tired but he might be smiling too. Rude slouches low in the driver's seat, arm out the window, smiling himself.
“Name's Rude.”
“Weird name.”
“Oh, is yours any better?”
There's definitely a smile there now. “Cloud.”
Rude whistles. “I think I prefer Rude. So, you getting in, or what?”
Cloud shrugs. “Well, I suppose you're not a stranger anymore.” He doesn't wait for Rude to stop the truck, just opens the door and slides right in. Smooth. Rude has trouble breathing for a second. There's probably the biggest smile he's ever seen on Strife's face, which isn't saying all that much, but damn, the man is beautiful. Rude shifts a little in the driver's seat. Cloud's knee is right there and Rude can steer one-handed. It's not that far a journey from knee to thigh to...
Cloud sets a toolkit in his lap. Hitchhiker's defense. Rude swears in his head and puts both eyes on the road. “Heard you had a transportation issue,” he says.
“Ran into a monster herd. I took care of them but not before one put a claw in my engine.” Cloud sighs a little, looking out the window. He's got an elbow on the door and his cheek in one hand. “Didn't mean to keep you waiting.” He glances over at Rude. Their eyes meet, mako blues seeing right past dark glass, then flit apart just as quickly. Anticipation's riding in the truck with them now, but they won't talk about it. Not their style.
“Sounds like that could run up a tab at the repair shop.”
Cloud shrugs. “I do my own repairs.”
“Good with your hands then?”
“Good enough.”
Rude takes another glance. Cloud's got nice hands, strong ones. Cloud shifts his sword again, moving the hilt from one shoulder to the next. His grip is firm and sure. Yeah, he's good with his hands, Rude thinks as a parked Fenrir comes into view. Just how good now, that's what he's going to find out.