Work Text:
Rhela is still drifting, everything fuzzy and out of focus, when he lifts her into his arms and carries her back to bed. Releases the restraints on her wrists, rubbing the marks where bruises will form later. Shifts her so he can get to the collar to take that off as well. It doesn’t immediately register how he goes too quiet, too still, with his hands at the back of her neck.
“It won’t open.”
Panic brings everything into sharp clarity. She’s misheard, or Gaius is simply mistaken.
“What do you mean, it won’t open?”
“The lock is—”
She bats his hands away and tugs at the metal herself, like it’s going to just pop off that way. He tries to catch her wrists, maybe intending to try to calm her down, but when she snarls and jerks forward he dumps her out of his lap onto the bed and stands up. Watches her struggle on her own with his arms crossed over his chest.
Her face is on fire and it feels like she’s going to cry, the pitch of her voice rising in frustration. “Why won’t it open!?”
“The lock appears to have malfunctioned.”
“Isn’t there… I don’t know, an override or something?”
“If there is, I don’t know of it.”
“So much for superior Garlean technology!”
He looks like he’s about to laugh, but smooths the expression back out after a moment. His calm only makes her angrier, and she can see his temper flaring as she glares like this is somehow his fault but she can’t stop herself. The tense silence stretches, neither one of them willing to break eye contact or back down.
She knows the solution, wishes she didn’t.
“We have to go see Cid.”
“Absolutely not.”
“If you have a better idea, please enlighten me. I’m… I can’t be seen running around wearing a gods damned magitek collar Gaius!”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” He paces the scant space at the end of the bed. “You should not have— This was a bad idea.”
“I don’t recall you hesitating when you had me on my knees!”
He growls in frustration, seems halfway to continuing to fight, but then lets out a slow breath. Stops pacing and simply stares at some point on the bed. She picks at the sheets, weighing the options and knowing none of them are good.
“I can go by myself,” she shrugs, “better Cid than someone I don’t know.”
He drops onto the end of the bed, puts his elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Finally he sighs and straightens up..
“If I don’t go with you, he will never let me hear the end of it.”
Neither one of them is ever going to hear the end of this.
——
Nero answers the door. She shouldn’t be surprised. He looks from her, to Gaius, and back again.
“Dare I ask what brings the two of you all the way to Mor Dhona in the middle of the night?”
“We need help.”
He leans on the doorframe, crosses his arms over his chest and smirks. Even in the darkness he seems to have noticed her blushing, and the awkward arrangement of her scarf.
“With what, pray tell?”
She shifts uncomfortably, looks around him into Cid’s apartment. “Can we come in?”
“Oh, be my guest. This should be entertaining.”
Once all three of them are safely inside and the door closed behind them, she reaches up and unwinds the scarf. It’s not even all the way off before he starts laughing. Cackling, really. She balls the fabric up and throws it at him, but it isn’t a deterrent.
“Don’t laugh! It’s not—”
“Nero?” Cid’s voice is thick with sleep. He stops abruptly as he steps around the taller engineer, taking in Gaius lingering by the door, Nero still laughing, and the magitek collar locked around Rhela’s neck. “Really?”
“I want it noted that this was entirely her idea,” Gaius mutters defensively. It wasn’t. He’s just as culpable.
“Can someone help me get this stupid thing off!?”
A heavy sigh as Cid scrubs his hands over his face. “Fuck’s sake. Come on.”
They make an odd procession going from Cid’s apartment to the Ironworks, but fortunately there are few people around to see them, and no one who would recognize the group for who they are. The lights flicker on in the workshop and they settle around a workbench. Cid grunts, gesturing for Rhela to sit on one of the stools.
“So,” Nero still has a shit-eating grin on his face, elbow on the top of the workbench and chin propped on his fist, “enlighten me. How did you end up in this little predicament?”
Rather than answer him, she watches the other engineer move around the workspace and collect a concerning assortment of small tools. Why she had thought this would be a simple fix, she doesn’t know. Undeterred, the blond Garlean leans further over the table and nudges her.
“And here I was thinking we were friends.”
He is insufferable, completely and utterly insufferable. She has no idea why she likes him so much, and he is absolutely not going to drop this.
“It’s not like we knew the lock was going to break. I was… curious.”
“Rhela!” Gaius cuts her off, voice strained with anger or embarrassment or both, before she can elaborate any further.
“What?”
Cid slams the tools down on the table. “All of you stop talking.”
The quiet lasts all of five minutes, during which she is subjected to tugging and shifting as he examines the device. Nero is still grinning like an ahriman, Gaius is leaning against another workbench watching and maybe blushing - hard to tell sometimes - and Cid is grumbling under his breath about magitek and poor equipment maintenance.
“A bit of a military fetish, then?”
She makes a noise that she doesn’t think she’s ever made before - something between a squeak and a sound like he’s punched her in the stomach. He’s not exactly wrong, but did he have to say it?
“You didn’t need to go rummaging around some abandoned castrum for that relic,” he gestures at the collar “I could have made something much better if you had asked.”
Gaius looks like he would rather die than be having this conversation, which is about how Rhela feels. Cid spares them all any further awkwardness.
“For once, Nero, shut up.”
This time everyone manages to stay quiet, and he gets started. She holds her hair out of the way as he works, suffers through the pinching and pulling in silence, something like penance for what she’s putting them all through. After what feels like forever, there is a click and the metal band comes loose. Her sigh of relief is audible.
Cid gestures at her with the collar when she slides off the stool and turns to face him. “Do not. Do this again.”
She had every intention of thanking him, but all she can do is nod, red-faced. Gaius puts a hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the bench and the pair of engineers, and toward the door.
“Thank you, Cid. I apologize for the late night.”
He tosses the collar aside and waves them off tiredly. It’s been a long night and she is not looking forward to the trip back, but at least they’ve solved the problem. And (maybe) learned a lesson in the process.
A forceful “no” that can only be directed at Nero follows them out the door of the Ironworks.
——
The unmarked box arrives a week later, sitting on her doorstep when they come back from shopping. Rhela brings it inside and sets it on the counter while Gaius busies himself putting things away. She lifts the lid, immediately slams it closed again and buries her face in her hands.
“What is it?”
All she can manage is an absolutely miserable sound, half muffled, before the absurdity of it overwhelms and she starts giggling.
“Fucking… Nero.”
“He did not.”
He turns away from the cabinets and leans across the counter to grab the box from her. Pulls it open and stares down at the set of restraints. They’re… very nice, honestly. Not quite the same as the Garlean ones, but clearly inspired. More appropriate to her size— oh no. Hopefully he didn’t ask Tataru for her measurements.
“He did.”
Of course he did.
Gaius removes two envelopes - labeled KEYS and BACKUP KEYS in large block letters - and sets them aside. Picks up the collar and lets it dangle from his fingers between them. He looks across the counter with a raised brow and a half smirk, as if they’re honestly considering…
“It would be a shame to let his work go to waste.”