It had been the first thirteenth of October since everyone had gone their separate ways.

Most of those who had fought and survived Sephiroth were happy, planning on enjoying the entire day at the Gold Saucer, in spite of the fact that it was a celebration for the most melancholy person any of them had ever known.

"I will say, Vincent sure makes a challenge out of finding one thing to buy him each year," Nanaki commented, casually scratching himself.

"I’ll agree with you there," Reeve commented.

"I thought it was easy—ow!" Yuffie complained, getting her hand slapped away from the birthday cake. "Cloud!"

"You’ll go after anything," Tifa said, pushing Yuffie away from the cake.

"What’d you guys get him, then?" Yuffie asked. "You seem pretty confident."

"Yeah, I’ve been goin’ fuckin’ nuts tryin’ to get this guy something," Barret commented loudly.

"Tifa and I got together and found a bunch of comics from the last thirty years."

"Comics?" Yuffie asked.

"Hey, Tifa was the one who saw him in that shop," Cloud said.

"You should have seen him. He asked one question and the guy at the counter burst into laughter and asked him where he’d been for the last thirty years. He was so embarrassed after that."

"I got him something even better than that!" Yuffie boasted. "I got him two tickets to Cosat del Sol, with reservations to a nice hotel. For three days."

"Um…" half the gang mumbled. The rest were too confused to even manage that.

"Yuffie, why two?" Reeve asked, gaining his composure the fastest.

"Why two what?"

"Tickets."

"So he can take someone else. Duh."

"Who the fuck is he going to take there?!" Barret yelled.

"I think we need to get him a girlfriend before we get him romantic reservations," Tifa commented.

"He doesn’t need a girlfriend, he has someone."

"Aren’t you a bit young?" Reeve asked.

"NOT ME!" Yuffie yelled. "Cid."

Nothing happened. No one moved. No one spoke. If they had been outside, tumbleweed would have rolled by. Cloud scratched his head.

"Are you feeling okay, Yuffie?" Tifa asked.

"Am I the only one who pays attention?" Yuffie yelled.

"Calm down, I’m just surprised it’s Cid. Hope it works out," Nanaki commented.

"Wait, you can’t be sayin’ Vincent’s gay," Barret said. "That makes no sense."

"Yeah, he can’t be gay. Can he?" Cloud asked Tifa.

"How would I know?" Tifa exclaimed

"What doesn’t make sense is the guy with scantily clad women on his plane liking men," Reeve said.

"They’re not gay, they’re bi," Yuffie said.

"Exactly! Wait…" Cloud said. "Who is?"

"Both of them."

"I don’t buy it," Barret said. "Not that I’m against him bein’ with anybody, but I just can’t picture it."

"I’ll bet you ten gil he is!" Yuffie said.

"Twenty he ain’t."

"Yuffie! Barret!" Tifa yelled.

"I’m going to put my money on him being straight," Reeve said.

"Ree—what?" Tifa yelled, baffled at what Reeve was doing.

"Hey, if I’m in charge of Midgar now, I can’t really set foot in a casino. Besides, its just a friendly bet about Vincent."

"I thought we were betting on Cid. Okay, start over," Yuffie said.

"You guys can’t bet on Vincent!" Tifa exclaimed.

"Yeah, we can. Fifty it is guys. Nanaki, you in?" Yuffie asked.

"Not really. I just want to watch how this goes."

"Guys!" Tifa said, through gritted teeth, trying to keep quiet, lest security guards deal with them before Vincent even arrived for his own birthday party.

"Which you wanna bet on, Cloud?" Yuffie asked.

"Don’t you even dare!" Tifa screamed. She suddenly realized everyone else at the Gold saucer was screaming just as loudly and it didn’t really matter how loud she got.

"What she said."

"I’m going to bet you guys a hundred gil that he enjoys today, damnit!" Tifa yelled.

"I’m in," Yuffie said.

"Me too," Barret said.

"Personally, I have my doubts, it being Vincent and all," Reeve said.

"That a bet or not?" Yuffie asked.

"Sure, why not?" Reeve answered.

"Count me out of this one, too," Nanaki said.

"I’m with Tifa," Cloud said.

"Only ‘cause she’s going to kill you if you don’t."

"SO?" Cloud said.

"Would you quit with the fucking mopey shit already! You just got here!" a familiar voice said.

"I only came here because you threatened to sic Yuffie on me," Vincent complained, stepping off the car.

Everyone quickly thrust their money in their pockets and put on their biggest smiles.

"First person who mentions this dies!" Yuffie whispered.

"Come on, Vincent, it’s your birthday," Shera said, taking the lighter out of Cid’s hands as he was about to light his cigarette. Cid swore but no one really noticed, swearing being like breathing to the pilot.

"…" Vincent remembered over thirty years ago he didn’t want big crowds to celebrate his birthday either. He hadn’t liked celebrating like this since he was nine. When he was a kid, he went to the shooting range. Once he could drive, he drove around everywhere on his birthday, often ending up calling his parents at three in the morning to say he’d gotten lost. Eventually he started going to nightclubs instead of getting lost, which everyone other than his parents found to be an improvement in his birthdays. He sighed, thinking maybe it would have been better to just hide and pretend he forgot what month it was.

"Come on, at least say hi to the others," Cid said and almost literally dragged Vincent to the spot where everyone waited.

There was a chorus of cheerful greetings and shouts for him to have a good birthday.

"I showed up for my own birthday, I’m leaving now," Vincent said, and started to turn away.

"No you’re not!" Yuffie said. She his mechanical arm and ran off so fast his feet left the floor and his arm almost tore off.

"Outtamywaygottausetherestroom!" Shera yelled bowling Nanaki and Reeve over.

"She was the one who didn’t want to stop," Cid mumbled. "I need a cigarette, I’ll be outside."

"Hey, wait for me!" Barret called, and followed Yuffie.

"Me too!" yelled Cloud.

"Hold it," Tifa said, grabbing Cloud’s spike of hair. "Keep an eye on Vincent, those two are going to get him killed."

"’Kay. Bye!" Cloud was gone by the time Tifa had taken another breath and was about to say something else.

Reeve and Nanaki looked at each other, hoping one of them could think of an excuse to wander off, but they were too late.

"WOULD THE OWNER OF THE BLUE CHOCOBO IN THE A CLASS RACES PLEASE COME AND RESTRAIN IT?" an intercom announced.

All of Tifa’s muscles went tight for a second. "Cloud…" she grumbled and stomped off. "And you guys, watch that cake!" she yelled as Nanaki and Reeve were about to leave.

"What do you suppose my chances are of ditching and surviving?" Reeve asked.

"Well, she’s an angry female wearing brass knuckles…" Nanaki said, taking a seat at the table the birthday cake was on.

"Not a one, huh?" Reeve said, joining Nanaki at the table.

"Where’d they all go?" Shera asked, joining them. The men hadn’t noticed she’d returned and weren’t really interested either way.

"I guess Bugenhagen was right," Nanaki said, curling up slightly. "Human women do take a long time in the bathroom."

"Well excuse me for getting a run in my pantyhose!" Shera complained.

"You’re wearing pantyhose?" Reeve asked, leaning back to see for himself. He suddenly found himself facing the other way and his cheek throbbing and deduced she’d slapped him across the face. "What’d I do?"

Nanaki sighed. "Well, I was going to ask you how long it would take for someone to get hurt, but that seems a moot point now."

"Sorry," Reeve said, rubbing his cheek.

"So, what kind of disaster do you think this event will end in?"

There was a slight pause. They both remembered Cloud’s birthday, resulting in yet more fiery destruction to Midgar, and Barret’s where everyone learned to never, ever, let someone with a gun-arm get drunk and leave keys in a plane.

"I think Cid’ll finally light something on fire with those cigarettes of his," Nanaki said.

"I think Vincent’ll limit break."

"I think someone’s going to get a head injury, Tifa’s going to try and kill Cloud, and there’ll be a food fight. That’s what happens with my cousin’s toddlers," Shera said.

Reeve and Nanaki turned to her.

"What?"

"Do I know you?" Reeve asked.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Wonder Square!" Yuffie screamed, running into the room full of video games.

"Hey, wait for me!" Barret yelled, despite the fact that he was ahead of her.

"I got here first!" Yuffie yelled, finally letting go of Vincent’s arm. He flew forward a foot thanks to her speed and his face met painfully with the floor.

"You sure as hell did not!" Barret yelled.

"Betcha I can beat ya at the motorcycle game," Yuffie said.

"Betcha can’t!"

"Hey, it’s Vincent’s birthday, guys," Cloud piped up, finally catching up with them.

"Hey, Vincent," Yuffie yelled as Vincent stood up and waited for the room to stop spinning. "I’ll bet I can beat you at the motorcycles."

"Hold on," Vincent said mopily, twisting the join of his arm and testing to make sure all the fingers worked.

"See, I told you it wouldn’t break, pay up Barret."

"It did too break. He just fixed it,"

"Ignore ‘em Vince," Cloud said. "They’ve been like this ever since he was drunk and said something about Ninjas being worse at betting than a blind Chocobo playing poker with a deck full of aces. Or something like that. I was kind of using the fire extinguisher at the time. Good thing Marlene knew a bit of first aid."

Vincent said nothing. He had no chance because Yuffie grabbed him again and refused to let go before he agreed to her challenge at the motorcycles.

Yuffie got on and put the gil in the machines. Concentrating intently on avoiding all obstacles, she zoomed over the course.

Vincent stood there and yawned. He tapped the fingers of his good hand on the handle of the motorcycle.

Yuffie was halfway through the course. She screamed and barely steered out of the way of a cliff. "That came out of nowhere!"

Vincent whistled. He tapped his hand again. He had gone nowhere in the game, just sat there at the starting line. He looked over at Yuffie. She was two-thirds of the way through and trying very hard not to be eaten by alligators.

Vincent shrugged. He grabbed the handles without getting on and steered without even looking at the screen.

He zoomed over, around, and under every obstacle, flew over the cliff, bounced off every alligator, crashed Yuffie off her bike without even wobbling, charged off a ramp and landed right on the finish line.

"Done," Vincent said.

"You cheated. You had to have cheated."

"Yuffie, I’ve played that game since I was seven," Vincent said.

"It’s not that old," she whined, climbing off. She looked at the machine and found the date on it was older than even that. "Goddamnit!" she yelled and hit the machine.

PLEASE DO NOT DAMAGE MACHINE. VIOLENCE TOWARDS MACHINE CAN RESULT IN BANISHMENT, IMPRISONMENT, AND FINES UP TO 15000 GIL flashed on the screen.

"Yeah, same to you," she told it and looked around. She and Barret had managed to get themselves banned from all the other games last time they were here. "Not my fault the water main was there," she muttered.

"Hey, look!" Barret said. "They got a new game."

"What’s DDR?" Yuffie asked.

"Dunno. I bet I can beat you at it."

"Betcha can’t."

The conversation soon turned into an exchange of insults, then an exchange of blows, then a brawl, then a bet, and finally—an hour later—they were on the machines trying to defeat the other, but only resulting in ties.

Vincent had wandered off and Cloud had followed a long time ago.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

"I TOLD him not to feed that thing cheez whiz!" Tifa complained, dodging the chocobo as it raced towards her—actually, towards the wall and straight through it, but she wasn’t really paying attention to details.

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

"What’s with the crayons, Shera?" Nanaki asked.

"Cause I’m bored."

"Why are you here?" Reeve asked. "I mean, you don’t have to sit here and watch Red’s hair grow."

"Because I have three options," Shera said, lifting one finger. "I can stay at Rocket Town and be the only woman trying to work on the space program, since Cid doesn’t want anyone else driving his plane for deliveries, and hear every single tasteless, disgusting, rude joke about rockets there is. Again.

I can stay here with you guys," she said, raising another finger.

"Or—"

"Would the two people wrestling on the DDR machines please leave the Wonder Square, we don’t care if you’re in step or not, fighting is not allowed in the Wonder Square," an announcement blasted, followed by another. "A blue Chocobo has broken out of the track. Will everyone in the Chocobo room please evacuate. Please do not panic. We regret any inconvenience. We are sorry to report that the Battle Room has been shut down due to an immediate need of repairs due to an overpowered summon Materia. Would the man in the red cape please stop running through the Employees Only sections and use the doorknobs instead of wrenching them off the hinges? Attention all Gold Saucer patrons. There is a Blue Chocobo on the loose. Please remain calm and keep your distance. It is not dangerous, though we request that you not give it sugar. Would the owner of the airplane with the words ‘Tiny Bronco’ on the side please remove it from the yellow zone? That zone is for loading and unloading only. It is also only for cars. If anyone has any information regarding the person or persons who pulled the fire alarm today, please report to the nearest security guard. The suspect is reported to be a young female with short hair claiming to be a ninja. She is also reported to be armed and AHHHHH—" There were a bunch of loud sounds resembling crashes and glass breaking and something large, hollow, and metal tumbling down some stairs. "Bet you you get caught first!" "Bet you I don’t!" There was another crash over the intercom and then the sound of the operator groaning. "What’s that Chocobo doing here?" "WARRRK!" There were some odd thumping sounds and then a door being bashed open. There was a minute of dead air and then a metallic thud. "Where the hell am I now? Ah! Cloud!" "Ow. Hey, wait!" The intercom went dead in the middle of a crushing sound.

"Sounds like they’re having fun," Reeve commented, sipping his drink.

"—or I could let someone know I know about any of those people," Shera finished.

"Point," Nanaki said.

"I wonder if they have anything stronger," Reeve wondered out loud.

"If they do I want one. No, scratch that. Make it three," Shera said.

"You haven’t explained the crayons, though," Nanaki said.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Shit, run!" Yuffie yelled.

"I AM!" Barret yelled. "I am never betting that again."

"Hi guys!" Cid said, waving to the two as they zoomed past. "Bye guys." Cid tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stomped on it with his foot. "Wonder what they did this time."

"Hey!" an out of breath security guard yelled, stopping in front of Cid. His buddy was even more exhausted and his clothes were ripped. "Did you see two people run this way?"

"Nope," Cid answered, deciding he needed another cigarette.

"WARRK!" they heard.

"What the hell was that?" the security guard asked his friend, who just shrugged.

"Come on," the security guard said to his friend.

"Hey, are those Midgar Lights?" his friend asked, earning himself a punch in the ribs from the first guard.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Huh. I didn’t know you could actually wander around in the ventilation ducts. I thought that was only in movies. I wonder where I am." He lifted the ventilation lid up and quickly slammed it back down after a chorus of screams. "Sorry ladies!"

"Hi, Vincent."

"Cloud? I thought I lost you after the flood."

"The good news is they decided not to call the bomb squad. Where are you trying to get to anyway, Vincent?"

"The… um… the… bathroom," he answered pathetically. He couldn’t really tell Cloud he was trying to escape his own birthday.

"Oh, hey, just ask. I’ll show you. Man you must be dying."

"Cloud don’t step there! It’s loos—"

There was a sensation of freefall for both of them, then a painful bump from underneath as they hit the floor and another as they were jolted into the top of the duct, earning them each a third bump that would soon turn black and blue.

"Hey, that wasn’t so bad," Cloud said. "Hi ma’am… officer."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Is it a boat?" Reeve asked.

"How do you get a boat? I think it’s a duck," Nanaki said.

"Maybe it’s an airplane."

"It’s not an airplane," Shera grumbled.

"A tree?"

"A frog?"

"A mog?"

"Maybe it’s abstract art," Nanaki said.

"FINE!" Shera screamed and bashed the crayon against the paper so hard it snapped in half and Nanaki had to duck the flying piece of wax. She grabbed the closest pair of shoulders and lifted the owner out of his seat as she stood up, shaking them. "I admit it! I haven’t had a date in three years!"

Reeve sighed and put his hand on his temples, which suddenly hurt.

WHY was she yelling at Nanaki?

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Great.

Just great.

Well, at least he’d gotten to the bathroom unscathed. Well, he did have a bit of plaster on him, but in no way did he have anything to do with the ceiling coming down. Stupid Chocobo. Wait, didn’t Cloud own a blue Chocobo?

He had to find a way out of here. He could either go back and have Cloud follow him constantly—Cloud had even tried to follow him in the bathroom, but he slammed the door shut and locked it in time—or find a way out.

Why did the women’s room have a ventilation duct and the men’s room didn’t?

There was a window; maybe he could get out through that.

It was high up and had bars on it. The height was alleviated by the fact that he was six feet tall and by standing on the rim of the toilet.

Vincent grabbed the bars and lost his footing. He sat up and found the bars that used to be over the window were now on his face.

He looked up at the window, only to have some plaster fall on his head. Crappy drywall; who’d have known?

He stood up, brushed himself off, and was hit by more falling plaster. He gave up on getting clean, stood on the toilet rim again and pushed on the window.

Cloud started shaking the door and banging on it. "Vincent? You okay in there?"

Shit!

Vincent’s hands met with nothing. He had a nanosecond to wonder why he hadn’t touched cold glass and then everything was dark. And smelly.

"I don’t know ‘em, no matter what they—oh, hi Vincent." A muffled voice said.

Vincent was more concerned with his new migraine. And what the fuzzy thing next to his face was. Wait, did it just move?

He screamed, his voice echoing around metallically, and toppled over.

"What are you doing in a garbage can?" Cid asked, pulling him out.

"There wasn’t any glass in the men’s room."

"…Yeah, whatever. Hey, c’mon I’ve been meaning to give you your present."

"This isn’t going to hurt, is it?"

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Reeve hiccuped.

"I concur," Nanaki said.

"Hey, that’s mine!" Reeve complained, then hiccuped again, as Shera grabbed a bottle and took a giant gulp. The table was half covered in bottles, some empty, some nearly there, some halfway there, some no one had any clue how much was in them. Even Nanaki had a bottle next to him.

"Runaway chocobo!" Someone screamed.

"You hear something?" Reeve asked Shera, taking the bottle away and drinking from it.

"Not really," Shera said.

A blue, rather rabid and yet happy chocobo charged past, taking off the edge of the table and a few empty bottles.

Reeve set the bottle down and Shera started picking through the others, looking for one with something in it.

Tifa ran past them, screaming more cuss words than Cid usually did.

"Hi guys!" Shera exclaimed, waving.

Yuffie and Barret didn’t reply, just kept running.

"Huh?" Reeve asked, having been distracted by looking for another bottle himself.

"Look out!" Yuffie yelled.

Both of them were too late and Barret and Yuffie charged over the table—scratch that. Barret over the table, Yuffie over the table and Reeve’s head.

Two security guards ran around the table, ignoring Reeve on the floor and Shera’s protests over the bottles they knocked on the floor.

"Well, I saved the cake," Nanaki said, dizzily checking to see that he still had all his limbs.

"You going to finish that?" Shera asked.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Honey, I don’t think he’s coming back. That’s gotta be a life sentence at least. Hold on, I got some customers. Yes, would you like to ride the—"

"Cid, give me the pictures!" Vincent yelled, grabbing at a strip of wallet sized photos from a photo booth.

"No way! You’re just going to throw them away. Besides I paid for them."

"Excuse me," the operator butted in. "You wanna ride or just admire it?"

"We sure as hell do!" Cid said, wrapping an arm tightly around Vincent, keeping him from running off. "Present for the birthday boy here, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, one of those. Okay, keep your arms, legs, and body organs in the car. Gold Saucer is not responsible for lost articles including virginity, or for any sex related problems, including, though not limited to, pregnancy, STD, and the realization of who you were with."

"Eh?" Cid asked, summing up both of their surprise and dropping his unlit cigarette.

"Honey, I’ve been operating this for five years, I’ve seen it all. You two have fun now. And don’t light anything on fire."

"FIRE??" they both asked.

"Come on, I’ve got all day, but I’m doubting you two do."

Cid tugged Vincent in the car and it took off slowly.

"FIRE?" Vincent asked.

"Hey, lookit that, I didn’t know those things were so flammable," Cid commented, looking out the window, while he sat down and took off his goggles. He took his gloves off next and then his shoes. "Aren’t you gonna take yours off? I’d rather not get punctured by those shoes of yours."

Suddenly feeling guilty, Vincent took off his shoes, though he had no idea why. "Cid!" he screamed as the pilot tore off his shirt, forgetting to take his scarf off first.

"What?" Cid asked, slightly confused. "Aeris said this was a romantic thing. Don’t really see why." Cid shrugged and patted the seat next to him.

"Your idea of romantic is driving the Tiny Bronco with your feet while having me and a cigarette at the same time."

"Well, this thing flies, sort of, I guess."

"Cid—"

The ride stopped abruptly, swinging back and forth. The lights went out completely. Vincent was flung forward onto the seat.

"I know you did that on purpose Ci—" Vincent couldn’t finish his sentence. There was a tongue in his mouth suddenly, and it wasn’t his. He squirmed playfully and put a hand through Cid’s hair, moaning happily, despite the odd sound outside that sounded like something small exploded.

"Cid," he yelled, finally pushing Cid away.

"What? Oh, right," Cid said, and dug into the pocket of his pants and took out his keys, tossing them to the floor. "There. Sorry."

After another bout of trying to taste each other’s tonsils, Vincent broke away again. "Cid, you know I can’t do this."

"Keep your eyes open," Cid said, and went back to kissing. Since Vincent kept thinking he’d rather use his mouth to talk, Cid’s new target was his neck.

"What? Cid, what are you doing?"

"You said you couldn’t do anything because you keep thinking of that fucking Hojo guy, right?"

"Actually, last time I cried and curled in a ball."

"Whatever. Look, we’re just going to do something you didn’t do with him."

"Huh?"

"You’re ruining the mood Vince."

Vincent wasn’t sure what the mood was supposed to be. Cid was talking about being romantic, and being his horny stupid self. The lights were out and it was freezing. Cid smelled like an ashtray and he smelled like a dumpster. Outside there was loud screaming and was something might have been on fire, judging from the flickering glow. They both kept talking about Hojo while trying to make out. Not to mention he’d been told not to light anything on fire. Whatever the mood was, it was beyond him

"Look, anything that makes you remember him ruins everything. So we’ll just do everything else. Or fucking die trying."

"You sure about this?" Vincent asked, wondering if Cid was looking him in the face. He wondered if Cid knew where his face was. "Seems like a lot of work and…"

"Vincent, shut up and start enjoying this."

The lights flickered and went off again.

"Sounds like a deal to me."

"Good. Now is your shirt off or not, I can’t see."

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

"Shera, stop pudding by ice in your drinks. I need it."

"Oh, stop whining, Reeve. We can always get you more. Keep your head down or that nose bleed will make you nauseous."

"Yes, ma’am."

Nanaki hiccuped.

"What happened to you, Reeve?" someone asked.

"Barret, shouldn’t you be running?" Nanaki asked.

"Nah, that’s what they think I’d be doing. So, did something explode again, or what?"

"Yuvvie," Reeve explained. "You were dere."

"Wasn’t really paying attention," Barret said.

"I nodiced."

"Phew," another person said.

Reeve couldn’t see much more than peripheral vision and the table top. "You had bedder hab bandages, Yuvvie," he said.

"Sure. I think I knicked some from a first aid box. Oh, and you guys have GOT to see these."

"What, did we get arrested yet?" Reeve asked.

"Guys…" This one had to be Cloud. He was severely out of breath, and everyone other than Reeve could see his shirt was torn and he was missing a shoe.

"Cloud, why are you wet?" Yuffie asked.

"Long story. Anyone seen Vincent and Cid?"

"YOU!"

"Hi Tif—oof!" Cloud was greeted by a fist in his stomach.

"YOU!" Tifa started again. Her suspenders were gone, as was one glove, though not the armor over it, and her belt was broken. Her hair tie was missing, and there were marks from scratches and pecks all over her body.

"You and your damned un-neutered, overfed Chocobo! What the hell did you give that thing?"

"Burritosdonutschipsleftoverspartofahamburger… please don’t kill me. That fuzzy thing in the fridge, but I technically didn’t feed it that."

"Do you have any idea what I’ve just been—where’s Vincent?" Tifa screamed, shaking Cloud so hard he thought his head was about to fly off.

"Uh… honey…"

"You LOST Vincent?" Tifa yelled, punching him again.

"Ow, that was a rib…"

"How the HELL do you lose Vincent? Are there so many other black-haired, red caped, manic depressives with fake arms out there?"

"Hey, I see him, Tifa!" Barret yelled.

Vincent and Cid were at the other end of the room, too engrossed in their conversation—and dodging falling wreckage—to notice their friend’s carnage.

"Told you they weren’t dead, Yuffie. Pay up."

"Well, I won the bet about getting proof. And about them being gay."

"Bi," Nanaki corrected.

Yuffie passed around a few Polaroids.

"Goddamnit!" Barret said, digging around in his pocket for his money. "Both of them, too. How the hell did you get these?"

"Ninja arts of silence, stealth, and knowing when people will be oblivious to photo flashes."

"WOW!" Cloud said.

Yuffie turned the photo around.

"Oh, that makes more sense," Cloud said. "Hey, Cid, I didn’t know you could bend this way," Cloud said as Vincent and Cid finally arrived.

"Eh?" Cid asked. His goggles were askew, he was missing one glove, his scarf was ripped, and his shirt was inside out and backwards.

"Is something burning?" Vincent asked. His cape was missing a buckle, one belt went the wrong way around his waist, the other had missed a belt loop, and his shirt was missing three buttons.

Shera licked her fingers and put out a flame on Reeve’s hair; she swore it hadn’t been there a second ago. "No," she said innocently, as Reeve groaned. She picked up a stray Polaroid. "Huh. Cid really is a natural blond."

"You didn’t know? You live with him," Cloud said. "Hey Tifa, wanna see?"

"CLOUD!!" she screamed and slapped him on the face so hard the pictures flew out of his hands and into the air. He twirled around twice and fell on the floor.

"What’d I do?"

Vincent plucked one of the photos out of the air.

Cid suddenly backed up and the others froze as Vincent’s expression suddenly looked like he had just swallowed a spark plug.

All eyes that didn’t have a close up view of the table followed Vincent as his eyes rolled upwards and he stiffly fell backwards on the floor.

"Oh my god!" Shera yelled.

"Whad? Whad habbened?" Reeve asked.

"It appears they’ve just killed Vincent," Nanaki commented, scooting his chair away from anyone who was a potential disaster.

"You bastard! Ow, thad hurdd."

"Yuffie!" Cloud yelled.

"Sorry."

"AHHHHHH!" Tifa screamed, grabbing Cloud and pounding on his hand. "Everything’s ruined! I spent so much time preparing this and five fucking hours on the damned cake alone. I made it from scratch, dammit, from scratch. Now the place is on fire, our chocobo’s insane, and those two are drunk!"

"This is a concussion, not a hangober," Reeve stated adamantly.

"I am NOT drunk!" Shera complained. "Give me two more bottles."

"What’s that noise?" Reeve asked.

Everyone turned in the direction of a harsh grinding noise and all eyes were on Vincent again as he sat up like a resurrected Nosferatu. The grinding noise, which turned out to be Vincent’s teeth, changed to a low, loud growl.

Vincent stood up, panting with anger.

"Oh, dear," Nanaki said.

"Whad?" Reeve asked.

"We’re all gonna die," Shera said, setting a bottle down on a part of the table that wasn’t there.

"Oh, good. Then the pain will stop."

"Race you," Yuffie whispered to Barret, who just shook his head. It was now obvious to everyone that running wouldn’t affect their chances of surviving.

Nanaki ducked as Vincent violently grabbed the cake and lifted it over his head.

"Hey, I’m guarding that," Reeve complained.

There was a bestial growl that not even Chaos had ever managed, which silenced the entire room, if not the entire complex, and the cake met forcefully with Yuffie’s face, her head met with the floor less than a second later.

Everyone was still watching Vincent. He was absolutely silent, his face was contorting strangely, and his chest was spasming rapidly.

"Vince," Cid said, cautiously.

Vincent exploded. Not in tears or anger but loud, uncontrollable laughter. He doubled over and fell to the floor, never stopping. He clutched at his chest as if he were in pain for a while, and yet he was still laughing loudly. He even began hiccuping, and yet all he did was laugh, pointing at Yuffie covered in yellow cake and white icing and banging is metal hand on the floor.

No one did anything. No one was even remotely aware that they’re mouths were gaping wide open. Cloud fell out of Tifa’s grasp and landed on both his tailbone and sword. He didn’t notice.

Reeve sat up, holding the ice pack to his head and stared, positive he must have suffered brain damage.

"Well," Nanaki commented smugly, yet surprised. "I don’t think anyone expected that."

"I WON!" Shera suddenly yelled, wobbling and falling over in her chair.

"She is wearing pantyhose," Reeve commented.

"Hey, Tifa. This is really good," Yuffie said, pulling icing and cake off her face and stuffing it in her mouth.

There was a sudden shower of sparks and the intercom fell, destroying the last of the bottles and the table.

No one cared. Vincent was having the best time in his life.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You know, the damage doesn’t look that bad from outside," Cid commented, staring out the window of the Tiny Bronco.

"Who cares?" Tifa muttered, chewing on her sandwich. The cake was ruined and the only thing there was to make were peanut butter sandwiches. It had been a mistake to trust Cid to make them. "We’re still banned."

Nanaki nodded, drunkenly content and not very aware with what he was agreeing with.

Reeve and Cloud were arguing quietly in the next room over who’s ice pack was bigger and Shera was complaining that they were being too loud.

Yuffie and Barret were dealing out money back and forth, settling what seemed like ten million bets.

Tifa concentrating on ignoring them not wanting to hear all the disastrous things they gambled on.

Vincent, finished with his fit of laughter, sat quietly in a corner, reading his comic books, the strip of wallet size pictures from the photo booth used as a bookmark, and surrounded by his presents.

If it weren’t for the pile of odds and ends amassed near him, Vincent would have blended in as part of the wall on the Highwind, despite how different his color scheme was.

There were piles and piles of his favorite comic, the entire collection of the issues he’d missed. It must have weighed a ton. It’d keep him busy for the next few hours. He tried to continually thank Cloud and Tifa, but all he got from them in response was a pained moan.

Nanaki had gotten him a new bandana. Just in time, the chocobo had eaten his last one earlier today after the incident with the power drill.

There was a box of gun supplies and ammo from Barret. There had been a glittery card that was half paste and covered in unintelligible scrawl—or maybe a drawing, Vincent wasn’t sure which—from Marlene.

He swore the tickets from Yuffie had to have been stolen, and had no idea who Dr. Thomas Blackwell or Mr. Robert Green were. Even more he hoped he never met them.

Shera gave him a wristwatch that came with a bunch of add-on options and approximately twenty-five pages of instructions.

Reeve had gotten him a very high tech and expensive PHS, though forgot to include batteries.

"I am so, so, so, so, so, so, SO sorry, Vincent. None of this was supposed to happen," Tifa said, taking another bite of her sandwich and trying not to choke on something sharp. She swore that it was a bone; it couldn’t have been a peanut. God, how could someone suck at making peanut butter sandwiches, let alone suck so much?

"Actually," Vincent said, looking up from his comic. "I had fun."

Tifa’s mouth fell open. Cid dropped the controls. Cloud and Reeve dropped their icepacks. Shera rolled off the bed and crashed on the floor without a word. Nanaki hiccuped. Yuffie and Barret slammed down a hundred gil each in front of Tifa and grumbled.

"I mean, overall. Thank you, guys. And I’m really glad you’re not making a big deal about it." Vincent went back to his comic.

"It?" Tifa asked.

"You… didn’t see… the pictures?"

Tifa shook her head.

"Hey, who has the photos?" Yuffie piped up.

"I do." Vincent reached into his right pocket, the left one having gotten a large hole in it somewhere, and handed one of the Polaroids to Tifa.

There was a chorus of disappointed groans at the news that Vincent was the sole owner of the pictures.

Vincent hid his face behind his comic, afraid of how Tifa would react. After a few minutes of complete silence, he slowly lowered the comic.

Tifa looked as if she was choking on some bad cheese, her eyes wide and on the Polaroid.

She silently stood up, dropping it, stomped over to Yuffie and Barret, and threw fifty gil at the ninja, who barely managed to dodge.

Vincent grabbed the photo and shoved it in his pocket.

Tifa stormed out of the room.

"Hey, you bet on both of them!" Barret yelled.

There was a violent shower of another fifty gil from the doorway before Tifa slammed the door.

"Hey, Vincent", Cid said, kneeling down and putting a hand over Vincent’s shoulder. "If you’re up to it, I can lock the cockpit and we can try something really nice."

"Cid, are you drunk?"

"Maybe."

"How much stamina do you have?"

Cid shrugged.

"Maybe on YOUR birthday."

"Really? Fuck, that’s great!"

"Attention all Gold Saucer patrons… ow… the chocobo has finally been restrained. Thank you for your cooperation. Does this look infected? Will the owner of a ripped pair of underwear found in the cable car ride please report to the registry."

"I gotta land, guys… that’s mine," Cid said, rather embarrassed.

"Actually…" Vincent started. "That could be for me."

Back