Chapter Text
Cloud flicked through the files in his hands, the information scant but important for the task set ahead of him.
Both Hollander and Hojo were overdue for the annual employee check up by decades at this point.
"Ma'am?" Cloud asked, directing the question to Head Nurse Kunsel.
"Go on,"
"Says here... Professors Hojo and Hollander are overdue," he murmured.
Head Nurse Kunsel snarled wordlessly and vehemently lifted both birds in his direction.
"... I was wondering, ma'am, if I could talk with them instead?"
Her gold, gold eyes narrowed at him and she smiled but it never met her eyes, "I do so enjoy your thought processes, Strife,"
"Thank you, ma'am, I'll get right on it, "
Hollander was found in the middle of lunch, mid-chew as Cloud cleared his throat.
"What, spit—" the man took a long look at Cloud's Medic band, bared his teeth and said, "Not—"
"According to Section 215-71, Subsection 12, Paragraph A of the ShinRa Handbook Agreement, you must have a current physical on file in order to work for ShinRa Electric Company. Yours, sir, is decades out of date; circa 1986, sir, at last count." Cloud recited quietly, concisely and with a lone raised brow in return. "As you are one of the few members currently out of date, your funding is in question, sir, as you cannot comply with ShinRa's policy,"
"Hojo is—!"
"Next on my list, sir, and his funding will be pulled as well, should he not comply," he maintained flatly, "I find it is best to read all fine print, sir, whether it concerns one or not when signing their life away to ShinRa,"
"How dare—"
"ShinRa does not like wasting resources," Cloud informed him coldly. "sir,"
Hollander squinted up at him, looked at his lunch and said, "... if I do this and Hojo doesn't....?"
"I suppose you get his funding, sir, and his position," he replied with a faint shrug, "if you comply,"
"Get me an appointment as soon as possible then, Medic... Strife. Didn't you deny Hojo access to—"
"I did, sir, and for good reason,"
"... the other two Generals also put that you're their Medic as well,"
"News to me, sir,"
"Book me today or tomorrow at latest, I'll not be shown up by that upstart, greasy-haired—"
"Empty-headed, babbling moron, Medic Strife," Hojo declared hotly, eyes flashing with contempt and derision. "See to it at once,"
"Yessir, understood sir,"
The narrowed gaze sharpened, "You kept me from... the General," the way he paused, recognized who he was speaking with registered to Cloud, who couldn't help his reply.
"I did, sir,"
"He recovered well,"
"Thank you sir,"
"Do you enjoy ruining timely experiments or is that purely on Medic logic, boy?"
"Medic logic, sir, and my apologies for the ruining of the experiment," Cloud lied as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
"No matter now, I will beat out that fool and I certainly could use the influx of his funding," Hojo declared haughtily.
"Understood sir,"
Game.
Cloud inhaled as he set foot through the door, toeing off his boots and setting them to the side in order to keep the house clean.
Gongagan stew and his beloved Puppy dancing in the kitchen with his headphones on, mostly oblivious to his surroundings, singing at the top of his lungs.
How Cloud loved him so.
"Aaaa—" his scent registed and Zack whirled, his expression lighting up. "Spike!!!"
He was picked up, twirled and then Zack's face halted an inch from his, violet eyes glowing in the dim light of their apartment.
"Kiss?" He asked, knowing full and well Zack could hear him over the headphones.
"Absolutely!" He was kissed softly, sweetly and then Zack started nipping at his lower lip. "Missed you,"
"Missed you," he murmured softly as Zack unplugged his headphones from his PHS and pulled them off to set both items to the side. "How was training?"
"Blergh, work!" Zack made a spectacular face before he shook his head, "Good, the newer Thirds are picking things up better than the last batch that went through," he paused, said, "you weren't with Angeal today? Thought you two had some training?"
"I cancelled it," he mentioned with a shrug.
"... Babe, what are you up to?" Zack asked even as he hefted Cloud up and into the kitchen to set him on the dinky counter.
"... If I tell you, I don't have plausible deniability," he admitted with a wry smile.
"Turk stuff?" Zack's nose scrunched adorably at that but he shrugged, "Eh, now that's none of my business,"
"Turk stuff," he agreed, "I'll be busy with it for a little while and then I'll be good about mentor stuff from General Hewley, I promise,"
"... This have anything to do with the Don thing?"
"The Don... Little bit,"
It clicked just then and Zack gave him a wild and wicked grin, "Let me know if you need help with that,"
The faint shudder that ran through Cloud at the way Zack went from sweet to vicious was one he wanted again.
"Oh? Liked that, did you?"
"Kinda," he breathed out.
"Dinner first and then we'll see about that 'kinda' later," Zack teased gently.
"Ass,"
"At least it's your ass~" Zack wiggled it to prove his point, Cloud launching off the counter just to hear Zack yelp as he fled the kitchen.
He cackled as he chased, knowing the stew could stand a few more minutes of cook time.
Hollander arrived when scheduled, spotted Hojo across the way and hissed like an irritable, wet cat. "What is he doing here?!"
"Both of you agreed to an appointment within the 48 hour period, you did not mention not wanting to see one another, sir,"
Hojo looked like he'd bitten into a particularly unpleasant lemon but stayed put.
Hollander sat with a mulish expression and looked at Cloud, "Well?"
"The doctor should be arriving soon, sir,"
Major Tintagel gave Cloud a look that spelled trouble later but he smiled pleasantly enough at the two scientists, which was what Cloud had been hoping for.
"Professors, good to see you, Strife, my office, if you please?" The Major said with enough venom to keel over a Midgar Zolom. He snapped out the privacy trio, the Medical Trio and then a third before he hissed, "Pray tell, what is going through your mind?"
"They would never come alone, sir," he said point blank, "and I had to use the physical subsection to get them in or they lose their funding, sir,"
"... they hate each other that much?!"
"Oh absolutely, sir,"
Tintagel looked through the records, frowned at the dates on both sets and then said with a tone of faint admiration, "We've... been trying for the better part of decades. Well done, in that case, Strife,"
"Thank you sir,"
The Major frowned deeply at his saccharine tone, "What, precisely, do you get out of this mess, Strife?"
"Plausible deniability, sir,"
"... I take it I very much do not want to know,"
"No, sir,"
"... if you do what I think you're doing, can we please put in a request for Junon and Icicle trained real, honest-to-gods Doctors instead?" The Major sighed. "I'm so tired of these assholes,"
"... I'll see what word I can put in through the Department of Administration, sir,"
"Oh joy," Tintagel deadpanned.
"Am I dismissed, sir?"
"No, you're my nurse, you little ingrate, since I will not be doing them by myself," came the grumbled reply as he dismissed every barrier with an encompassing flick.
"Yessir!" He replied with a grin, earning himself an eyeroll.