I can't for the life of me remember who asked me to do more short pieces, but this is for you. It's the product of my Honors English class this past year, and I thought y'all might like it. Just funny, y'know?
Again: Give me ideas! I'll write more for you! Dedicated works are something I love doing. The 100th review on Not Just One of the Guys will receive a story with up to four chapters or four short stories. When I go back, the 25th, 50th, and 75th will also recieve prizes for being part of my first 100. Love ya!
"So the principal let him off because of what the kids said and Denzel wasn't suspended, so we're okay. Honestly though, Yuffie, what possessed you to teach a kid to fight like that?"
"He asked me," Yuffie shrugged. "He said it was so he could protect Marlene if he needed to. I didn't see any harm in- oh, wow." Tifa turned to see what Yuffie was looking at.
"What is- oh my." Both women stared at the doorway. Vincent was framed in it, resolutely bracing himself against Cid's valiant efforts at forcing him into the room. What caught their attention, however, was not the situation, which actually occurred whenever Cid was trying to get Vincent to do something with him, but Vincent's state of dress…
The only reason Vincent hadn't already won the reversed tug-of-war by virtue of sheer size was because quite a bit of his effort was lost in using his left hand to keep his skirt down. This hand, with clear, sparkly nail polish, was the only thing protecting his last scrap of dignity.
"You promised!" Cid growled. He gave a particularly violent shove and Vincent stumbled into the living room, tripping over his own feet and very nearly face planting on the polished wood floor. Cid grabbed his arm and prevented this disaster, to which Vincent grunted and yanked free.
"I was drunk," he hissed.
"You still promised!"
"What's going on here?" Tifa questioned. Her voice shook with barely contained laughter. The silence broken, Yuffie snapped out of her trance and dissolved into a fit of hysterical giggles.
"Vinny looks like a girl!" she shrieked. Vincent went pink and tugged helplessly at the too-high hem of his skirt.
He did, in fact, look like a girl. His usual neck-to-ankles ensemble of black and red had been replaced by a short black skirt and red halter-top. They met in the middle, but Vincent's struggles had resulted in a pale strip of skin visible between them. It seemed that Vincent's personal taste had been allowed a little leeway; the skirt had a number of zippers, pockets, snaps, and buttons that seemed to serve no real purpose but were reminiscent of his metal-toed boots and the buckles on his cloak. Below the skirt, Vincent's boots had been traded in for sleek black kitten heels that seemed to be giving him a whole lot of trouble.
Someone (presumably Cid) had taken Vincent's bandanna away, causing his hair to fall over his shoulders in a silky mess. Luckily for Vincent, this sort of silky mess was in style, so he hadn't had to suffer the indignities of a more feminine hairstyle. Smoky eye shadow and raspberry lipgloss completed the picture.
"Are you going to explain?" Tifa asked. Yuffie, still giggling, fell off the couch and rolled from side to side on the floor, clutching her ribs.
"He made me promise to join him for dinner like this," Vincent hissed. Surprised, Tifa looked at Cid. He'd cleaned up, even bothering to take the time to scrub off his protective layer of engine grease that he usually wore with pride. He'd shaved and put on jeans that looked almost new, paired with a pale blue button-up. He carried a woman's jacket draped over one arm, presumably for Vincent.
"Take him dancing afterwards," Cloud suggested. He strode in from the back door and circled Vincent with an appraising look. "He's got good legs…everyone who sees you is going to think he's a girl…you should show him off…in fact…take him to Inferno."
"That's a Turk hangout!" Vincent wailed. Cid grinned and pulled him towards the door.
"Have fun!" Yuffie called, waving giddily. Vincent fought all the way out, then the door shut and they were gone. Tifa turned to Cloud.
"Since when have you been an expert on cross dressing?" she asked. Cloud shrugged.
"What happens at ShinRa…"
"Stays at ShinRa, yes, I know."
"Then I don't need to explain myself. I'm going to go take a shower."