Author: Grasshopper (A.K.A. The Undertaker's Muse)
Rated: PG-13
Warnings: Crack. Hetero-type stuff. Alcohol. Vincent's morbid sense of humor?
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Challenge: Are You Game?
Prompt: Final Fantasy VII, Vincent/Yuffie: possessive - the claw tightened on her shoulder and Yuffie smirked
Spoilers: None really, but it's set sometime post-AC or DoC.
Pairings: Vincent/Yuffie
Summary: Yuffie finds herself drinking in a unique establishment. Vincent finds fault in her taste.
Author's Notes: Why is it these two never want to be serious when I'd like them to be? *headdesks*
Disclaimer: All things Final Fantasy VII belong to Square-Enix. Grassy only lays claim to the plot.
"Yuffie." Brassy fingers were cool on the flesh bared by the sleek tank Yuffie wore; cute enough for social wear, durable and giving enough for fighting gear. A glance in the reflection of her drink revealed Vincent's frown.
"Vinnie."
The claw tightened on her shoulder and Yuffie smirked. About damn time the friggin' vampire showed up. Vincent really was like one of Yuffie's cats; never around when you're looking for him, but there to trip you up by winding around your ankles when not paying a lick of attention. Luckily, Yuffie had been raised ninja; not even a man-vampire-cat-like person could catch her off guard that easily. (And she'd been expecting him to show up sometime, but that was not the point.)
"Heeh~ I was wondering if you'd ever show. Thought I was gonna have to sucker one of these guys into giving me a ride outta here." Yuffie made a sweeping gesture with her arms, indicating the men and women frequenting the bar in varying degrees of intoxication.
Not nearly as clean or well-behaved as those found in Tifa's bar, but Vincent had long ago found that Yuffie was oddly (freakishly, even) fascinated by the dynamics of such dives and the people found within.
"When you said we'd meet at the bar, I assumed you meant 7th Heaven."
"If that's what I'd meant, that's what I woulda said. Really, you'd think you'd know me better than that by now. Right- um. Bob?" Yuffie poked the patron next to her, unconscious and drooling, yet still balanced on the barstool.
"...let's go, Yuffie."
"Dun' wanna! We can have fun right here, can't we, Vinnie?"
The hint of an amused smirk twisted Vincent's lips. "I thought you said I was never fun at all. The anti-fun, even."
"Aww, y'know I didn't mean it! You can be really fun. Sometimes. When you wanna. 'S not my fault you hardly ever wanna."
"Ah. Well, I certainly don't want to have fun in this particular...establishment."
"You're such a snob sometimes, Vincent."
"I'm being eyeballed by individuals so dirty I can't identify their genders by either sight or scent. As are you."
"Oooh, ya jealous?"
"Not in the least. I'm not even certain that is what they'd like from us. Now let's leave before they decide to start carving the meat from your bones."
"...ew. I think that was gross enough to shock me sober." Yuffie slid off the barstool, somewhat unsteady on heavy legs.
"If only." Before she could fall on her flushed face, Vincent scooped her up into his arms. Better to carry her than spend hours wandering around as the stubborn kunoichi tried to walk on her own. And with Yuffie in his arms, he could better resist the urge to put a few holes in the drunks ogling them.
Though he was certain no one would mind a few less vermin in the world.
The End
