_Pecking Order_

“Zack, I really don’t have time for this shit. Not right now. Not ever. If I have a choice in the matter.”

Sephiroth leaned back against his closed door after escorting his second in command through it. Being called to the carpet by Heidegger was not his favorite way of spending an afternoon, especially not when the cause of the call was a lack of good judgment by his personal aide.

Zack had moved in as far as his customary location in front of Sephiroth’s desk but made no move to sit. The fact that the man hadn’t flopped into his usual chair to laze about proved he was feeling guilty about something. He had been playing meek since Sephiroth had walked into Heidegger’s office over an hour ago, spending most of their memorable afternoon studying the carpet as the fat general shouted himself hoarse. Zack knew perfectly well that he was in up to his neck at the moment and was doing his level best not to make it worse.

Sephiroth felt little pity for the man’s situation. Ears still ringing from the prolonged chewing out, he glared at the back of Zack’s shirt, willing him to turn and try and justify himself. Zack probably wanted to. He watched the shift of muscles in the southerner’s shoulders as pride warred with self-preservation.

“Well?” Sephiroth murmured. “Anything that you would like to add to our discussion this afternoon? A clear explanation perhaps?”

“No sir.”

Zack playing meek was almost as surreal as President Shinra playing at being magnanimous. It was more annoying than it was believable. He was hiding something, or more likely, protecting someone. Sephiroth exhaled slowly, reigning in his temper before trying again. “Nothing? Not one plausible excuse for being caught digging through some of Heidegger’s most highly secured files while you were hypothetically on lunch break?”

“None, sir.”

“What were you looking for?”

“I wasn’t looking for anything, sir.”

“What were you looking for, Major Thompson.” He put a little more authority into his question, frustrated by the man’s obstinacy. It wasn’t as if it had to go on record, but a little hint of why his friend had gone and made fools of them both would have soothed his nerves a little. Whatever it was, Zack kept to his study of the carpet, deeming him too much of a risk. The tacit rejection did nothing for his temper. Sephiroth willed his jaw to unclench before he gave himself the mother of all headaches.

“With all due respect, I’d rather not say. Sir.”

Steady, Zack was always so steady. Intimidation never worked as expected on him. Even in the beginning of their acquaintance, Sephiroth had marveled at the way that the younger officer would stand his ground against tactics that set more experienced men sweating. Someday he wanted to punch the man just to knock him out of his little ‘zone’ that he was able to hide in. On one or two memorable occasions, he actually had. Bad leadership, he shook his head at the memory, resorting to violence with subordinates was nothing to be proud of.

It left him with two depressing options, and as tempting as it was to turn the officer over to a pair of MPs and have them dump him in room somewhere for the duration of the week, he’d never get anything useful done without his assistant at his desk. That left the equally unproductive tactic of just waiting the man out. Maybe Zack would be more forth coming after both of their tempers had cooled. Tomorrow perhaps, or maybe the day after.

Sephiroth silently admitted that it would likely be Monday before he had the urge to strangle his friend completely worked out of his system. It left him feeling resigned, and also, feeling a little stupid about the whole situation. The realization bought him just enough emotional distance to let him relax marginally against the doorframe. “… What am I going to do with you, major?”

“Sir?” Fury wouldn’t make Zack turn around, but Sephiroth’s tired sigh seemed to do the trick. The wild haired southerner shifted to watch him, glancing at him briefly before fixing his eyes firmly on the far less threatening sight of his fake rubber plant in the corner. Sephiroth followed the man’s gaze, idly reminding himself to dust the poor thing later. It was looking a little shabby.

“You were caught in the act, Thompson. I can hardly just let you walk out of here with a pat on the head and a cookie.”

“No sir.” Zack wasn’t about to volunteer himself for mop-and-bucket duty. He had gotten a _little_ less reckless with age. Apparently he still had a ways to go. Most of the time, his risk taking was entertaining, Sephiroth acknowledged. Today wasn’t.

“Very well. For starters, your weekend pass is revoked.” Zack flinched. “For the next month.” Sephiroth smiled faintly as the man stared at him in amazement, knowing that one would strike a nerve.

The man loved his time off. So much so in fact that he was prone to be exceptionally surly when he didn’t get the odd weekend. By the end of the month he wasn’t sure which of the two of them would feel more punished; Zack for having to stay on call the whole time, or himself for putting up with the man. Best to deal with that immediately rather than have the soldier think he could whine his way to a reduced sentence.

“Your weekly duties will be unchanged, but on days not required by your current post, you will conduct a thorough inspection and update of all personnel and equipment involved with the SOLDIER program. I want all profiles verified, all weapons accounted for, and any unresolved items in our team records attended to. In short, I want you to be a busy little bee for the next four weeks Thompson, busy enough I hope to keep you out of trouble for once.”

Sephiroth pushed away from the door and deliberately put himself in Zack’s personal space, catching his eye. “If I catch you being anything but your usual productive self, I will simply have to find more for you to do. Or, I could of course extend your time here in the tower another week?”

Zack got the message loud and clear. He didn’t like it, that much was obvious, but he got it. All things considered it was a marvelous plan. By the middle of the third week, the SOLDIER would be chafing like mad to be free, and right about then Sephiroth could simply throw him out of the office all together to deal with the inventories full-time. Let some other poor soul deal with the southerner’s fractious temper for a week or two. The inspections would be done in record time and he could hand in a blisteringly comprehensive end-of-year report to Heidegger. Let the fat man chew on it for a few months and try to find fault with it. It was almost enough to make him smile.

Smiling right now, with his friend looking like he was itching to punch something, wouldn’t be the smartest idea. He settled for moving to sit at his desk, steepling his fingers in front of his face as he watched Zack fume. “Any comment?”

“No sir.”

“Good. Back to work, Thompson.”

“Yes sir.” Zack even threw him a salute, a remarkable rarity in their post-Wutai camaraderie. He raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but his look was missed by the man stalking off to his desk.

“Zack.” He caught his friend before the officer could shut the door between their workspaces. Zack looked back at him, not annoyed enough to completely hide his curiosity.

“Yes?”

“Was it worth it, whatever it was?”

The dark haired man made a frustrated face. “Not really, no.”

“A pity.” Sephiroth offered with a sigh, waving that the man could go back to his duties. This time he got a more congenial nod in recognition as his friend quietly shut the door between their offices. Staring down at the mass of papers on his desk, Sephiroth cursed to realize he didn’t remember what he had been doing before he had gotten Heidegger’s phone call.

*****