14Galian and his Kilt
—ox-oxo-xo—
Summary: Valentine's Day: Vincent is rather annoyed, Yuffie is feeling amorous, and Galian is highly amused…and bored. Surely this cannot end well…
Timeline: Aerith is alive, and Vincent/Yuffie/Cid are with them, so…
Warnings: Yuffie, Cid, Barret, etc. Also, screaming and running away – or rather, that which causes the screaming and running away. (Did you see the title?) Consider yourselves warned.
Rating: T, though I may be erring on the optimistic side…
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix. Which is not me.
Chapter 1 - Ignorance
Vincent Valentine found himself becoming suspicious. At least, more than usually suspicious.
Not of his surroundings – some forest, somewhere near Wutai; not of the likelihood of interruptions by local wildlife – frequent and moderately challenging, just the way he liked it; certainly not of his motives – kill Hojo and then wander back to Shinra Manor and his coffin, where he could finally get some decent sleep. (After all, one gets used to sleeping in a quiet, enclosed space after thirty years – which, after several weeks of not sleeping in a quiet, enclosed space, may have contributed to his general mood… which could be best described as, well, 'suspicious'.)
No; he was becoming suspicious of his travelling companions. And not for the usual reasons, either. Vincent tended to find his new-found 'comrades' difficult to rely upon at the best of times. (After all, there was the brain-addled fool who had somehow been saddled with the title of 'leader', probably because he carried the biggest set of steak knives. Then there was the woman who kept trying to sell him flowers for no apparent reason. Then there was the loudmouthed, short-tempered leader of a band of eco-terrorists…complete with big-breasted groupie. He tended to distrust anyone with double-D-cups, both due to his Turk training and just on general principle… Then there was the scruffy drunkard who thought he was the leader. Then there was the kleptomaniac princess who hadn't told anyone she was a princess. Then there was the robot with the ridiculous accent – who had actually betrayed them all, and for some reason had still not been dismantled and sold for the scrap. Then there was…)
His internal tirade ground to a halt for a moment. Come to think of it, he didn't actually have a problem with Nanaki. At least he was actually intelligent, if a little young and naïve. And in any case, he was running in the rearguard position, behind the party's main body; as such, he was exempt until proven culpable.
…Ahem. He made a mental note to talk more often with his quadrupedal comrade, and so attempt to purge as painlessly as possible the quota-backlog of conversation that he'd missed for the past thirty years.
No; the reason he was becoming suspicious was because they were whispering behind his back. And laughing.
The women – all three of them! – had been following close to Cloud, flirting with the bumbling idiot in a fashion which only said bumbling idiot could possibly manage to ignore. (Then again, he conceded, Vincent and Nanaki were likely the only members of the party who could smell the way the trio became aroused when they approached the ex-SOLDIER...) Of course, their preoccupation had set the other men chuckling.
Then one of the louder men had said 'Valentine', in a distinctly insinuating tone which he probably wasn't meant to hear, and likely wouldn't have heard if not for the superior aural abilities which had led to his assignation as the party's forward scout in the first place.
Some silence. And then they'd started giggling. And they hadn't stopped for several minutes now.
Vincent turned round, tattered crimson cape flaring out with his abrupt spin, stopping to regard the party behind him. They froze, several of them reaching for their weapons and darting quick looks around them; he tended not to talk to most of them unless those same enhanced senses picked up an approaching encounter.
"…What?"
Those who hadn't initially limbered up to fight thought it best to look elsewhere. Those who had limbered up to fight darted surprised looks at him, before remembering why the others were looking elsewhere. Needless to say, they were instantly back to their intensive examination of their surroundings, provided those surroundings were nowhere near the person (loosely speaking) of Vincent Valentine.
He narrowed his eyes a little. They began to shift their feet.
Being the resident rebellious kleptomaniac princess, Yuffie was the first to realise that she was acting exactly like the others, and decide to do something completely different in an effort to be contrary. She looked at him.
"N-Nothing! Nyuk-nyu—" Then Yuffie suddenly remembered why she'd been doing the same thing as everyone else, and returned to following suit.
Vincent turned back around and continued his point-scouting duties. At least, he reflected as the party hesitantly resumed their movement, they've stopped laughing…
—ox-oxo-xo—
Yuffie Kisaragi was actually feeling a little despondent. Not that anyone realised – Leviathan forbid! (After all, in addition to being a super awesome ninja, she boasted some super awesome acting skills. How else could a Wutain princess pass herself off as a vagabond ninja?) Taking advantage of a rare opportunity to indulge moderately in a spot of honesty, she picked listlessly at her lunch…which could be forgiven given that it had been Cloud's turn to cook it. Could the guy do nothing but shove a haunch of monster-meat onto a spit? Had Chocobo-Head never even heard of seasoning?
Truth to tell, she was actually a little pissed at Cloud. Mainly because, in between obliviously lapping up the pre-Valentine's Day jockeying for affection offered him by Aerith and Tifa, he had somehow managed to completely ignore her own gorgeous self. Probably he was just a boobs-man. Typical guy…
A little of it, though, was the fact that he was the leader. And in a few days, she was set to betray him. And, as a rule, she didn't get guilty. No, instead she scrabbled for grievances to blame them for – a pre-emptive strike, as it were. (Was it her fault he'd led them towards her homeland? Was it her fault he'd ignored her and taken someone else on that date? Was it her fault they never paid any attention to her, or even let her keep any materia?) It made life as a ninja a lot easier.
With a determination and expertise born of years of experience, Yuffie snapped herself out of her threatening funk by the simple expedient of cataloguing the many annoying (and therefore blameworthy) traits of the eight people who would soon be her victims.
Cloud, the way-too-bishie chocobo-head with the titty-fixation who ignored her and couldn't cook a decent meal to save his life, stood to lose a bunch of items along with his materia. Tifa's boobs would seriously cost her. Aerith… annoyingly, she just couldn't bring herself to hate her guts like she no doubt deserved. Okay, she can keep her items…
Barret and Cid – well, she hated them almost by reflex. Come on, they called her a brat! Like, constantly! There was no way she could forgive that! (And besides, how could she have any respect for a guy who'd apparently let his daughter get kidnapped twice?) Although… At least they'd taught her a few new swear-words. All right, she might let them keep their shirts – if she was feeling generous…
Cait Sith? Well, maybe she could actually steal Cait Sith! Somebody in Wutai had to be savvy when it came to electronics – maybe they could pump the annoying little robot for information. Or even get it to spy on Shinra for them! And if not, Yuffie figured that she could at least flog him for the scrap. Red? …Well, it wasn't as if he had much stuff to nick anyway. No doubt he'd insulted her some time or other; she could work out when after she'd separated him from his materia and made good her escape. And Vincent—
She darted a glance over at the taciturn gunslinger, leaning silently against a tree at the edge of the campsite. Having eschewed Cloud's dubious cooking, his attention remained directed on the forest surrounding the clearing.
Well… She scrabbled for reasons to hate him.
…He ignores me too! But, well… he ignored everyone else – and he ignored her just like he ignored everyone else, not like she was some little kid. …He's a vampire! And vampires DESERVE to have their stuff nicked! But, well… everyone knew vampires went for the pretty ones first, and he hadn't even so much as looked at her neck. (Or anyone else's, a traitorous corner of her mind whispered encouragingly.) …He keeps banging on about his precious 'beautiful Lucrecia…'! But, well… he'd actually only mentioned it that one time, and—
That same mindborne traitor undertook at that point to bring to her attention the potentially embarrassing nature of her previous lines of inquiry…as well as the belated reminder that her 'darting glance' had in fact not shifted from Vincent's red-cloaked form for well over a minute.
Aw crap. She scrabbled for a new line of enquiry.
Aha! That raggedy-ass red cloak! That smelly, filthy cloak that's never been washed and it's probably dyed with monster guts and when he moves it flaps round like he's a male model and— This time she was paying rather closer attention, and decided to quit while she was ahead. Which she was…just.
And then the internal seditionist which in kinder times she would have been more inclined to admit was her libido butted into her busy justifications yet again. But, well… Come on, that's a lousy reason! You know you love that cloak anyway!
At which point, for differing reasons, a thought occurred to both the diminutive ninja and her rebellious libido. Both sets of reasoning set her bounding over to lean next to the gunslinger.
"So, Vinnie… What are you gonna gimme tomorrow?"
Well, at least she got a reaction. Vincent blinked, his line of sight adjusting in order to better deliver a puzzled query in the direction of the Single White Rose of Wutai.
"Aw, come on Vince! Today's the thirteenth! You know what that means, right?" It must've been her libido that tacked on that suggestive note at the end. The Single White Rose of Wutai wouldn't ever have done that.
If anything, that garnet gaze managed to dredge up an additional measure of 'what-the-hell?' from somewhere. "…It's October?"
"No! It's February, the thirteenth of February!" Clueless! She was almost convinced right then and there to pinch all his stuff when she vamoosed. But, well… …Okay, so he's an idiot – that didn't stop you from going after Cloud, now did it? And since when did he show that much expression for, like, ANYBODY? C'mon, keep at it!
That bemused expression was still pasted on his face. "…So…?"
"So tomorrow's Valentine's Day, you doofus! And you owe me a PRESENT, Mister Valentine!" He blinked again. She struggled valiantly. "So what're you gonna get me? Materia? 'Cause I like materia!"
The look Vincent shot at her before storming off left her feeling like she'd been smacked in the solar plexus with a Tiny spell. She even caught herself checking the tree she was leaning on, just to make sure that it – and therefore she – remained in its proper proportions.
"…Bastard." Yuffie's whispered epithet practically curdled the air with a bitterness which surprised even the kunoichi. Even her libido shut up for a moment, knowing a lost cause when it was slapped in the face with one… before finally offering a suggestion that was useful to her.
—ox-oxo-xo—
She can't know – I haven't told her – haven't told anyone – it must have been some misunderstanding – she can't know… Vincent frantically attempted to rein in his temper, thankful that the others appeared to have finished their meal and he could therefore take his place at the head of the party instead of being forced to interact with anyone.
After thirty years without any particular requirement to count the days, it was unsurprising that Vincent had forgotten what day it was tomorrow. Not that it had mattered in the years before his coffin, and his penance. Until that moment, he had somehow managed for the entire day to avoid dwelling upon his sins…
The shrivelled remains of his heart, already cringing with shame over its abruptly remembered burden, inexplicably dropped into his burnished boots upon hearing Yuffie's quiet, miserable, "…Bastard."
It simply hadn't occurred to him, he realised with a jolt, to consider the possibility that she could have been entirely serious when she'd been nattering on about the present he apparently 'owed' her. It was perhaps thankful that, after thirty years, the majority of his facial muscles had forgotten that they must actually move in order to convey expressions; otherwise, the look that would have twisted his features at that moment might have raised several embarrassing questions, none of which he had any intention of answering…
It took a little while, but he finally managed to convince himself to calm down (and perhaps ask Nanaki about this whole 'Valentine's Day' business when the party set camp tonight). And as for Yuffie… well, suffice to say that, unlike Cloud, he was entirely capable of hypothesising the likely actions of a fifteen-year-old kleptomaniac kunoichi who claimed the name of the Wutain royal family, especially given the empire's recent fall from grace, when nearing her ancestral homeland. (The Wutain Princess should perhaps have been paying less attention to Cloud's girlish features and more to hiding her intentions, especially when complaining about her country's many problems to the sort of man who would let her twitter on because he never actually bothered to tell people to shut up…) No doubt she would depart in a few days. It was likely that they would all be missing a large proportion of their materia when she left. No damage done – or at least, he hastened to assure himself, no more damage than that which they would almost inevitably incur soon enough.
Vincent's nose suddenly twitched, seemingly of its own volition.
It occurred to him, then, that he knew that smell. The one which had lingered over that entire one-sided conversational sally. The one which wafted into his ever-so-slightly quivering nostrils even now. It also occurred to him that he had never before been able to tell which of the women were aroused.
This, he conceded as he set out on point, could well get a little more painful than he had initially predicted…
…Why was the Galian Beast...laughing?
A/N: Soooo… (Justify, justify…) So, I was hammering away at 'The Griever', a long and reasonably angsty FFVIII fic. (Oh, and if by some staggering coincidence you happen to be waiting for me to update 'The Griever', I'm sitting on most of it in preparation for the next proofreading – it's be out within the week…) And then I realised that I should take a crack at writing a multi-chaptered fic to a strict timetable – you know, just for the practice. And I'd never done a holiday fic either – so, two birds with one stone…
So, upshot: this fic'll be three chapters – the second update tomorrow, and the final update on Valentine's Day proper. Cheers!
(Oh, and if you'd be so kind as to click on those lil' blue words and review, it'd be highly appreciated…)