Title: Capey-cape
Author: Enide Dear
Pairing: CidxCapey-cape… alright, Valenwind!
Warning: Fluff!
Author's note: It had to be written, people! A dedication very small tribute to the amazing animama
"Ow! Damn it!" It was happening *again*! Cid spun around quickly, but there where no one behind him. Still, his butt hadn't pinched itself, that's for sure…
"A'right, were are ya?!" growling he started stalking around the Highwind's kitchen, glaring under tables and opening cupboards at random. "It's ya, Yuffie, I know it!"
"Chief, what are you…what are you doing?" Vincent glanced a bit shocked over the newspaper he'd been reading as Cid started to lift the corner of the gunman's cloak, peering underneath it.
"One of the girls are hiding in here, somewhere. Everywhere I go, I keep getting my ass pinched! I'm getting fucking bruises here! I've told 'em off, but no one's admitted anythin'…so I'll have ta catch whoever is doin' this. It won't do for a captain to get molested on his own ship!"
Vincent looked around the empty kitchen. It was completely bereft of flower girls, barkeepers and even ninjas.
"There's no one here but us, chief, and I've sat here since before you came in. I assure you we are quite alone."
"Then what is it? A fucking ghost?" Cid gave Vincent a piercing glance and the gunman blushed, hiding his face in the paper.
"I was sitting in the opposite end of the room, chief!" he stammered defensively.
"Hm. Yer right. And even if yer fast, ya ain't that fast…" There were perhaps just the faintest note of disappointment in Cid's voice. "Anyway, I don't have time for this shit. My tea water is boilin' over…" muttering to himself the captain ambled over to the stove and started fishing around for teabags.
Vincent cast one last, long glance after him and sighed, returning to his paper. He envied whoever it was that kept getting their hands on Cid's gorgeous….behind, but he'd never work up the nerve himself. He was lost enough in morose thinking that he never did notice the small movements along the edge of his cloak, the way the seemingly random tears and rough edges would twirl and move in a non-existent wind, answering to the emotions pouring from its bearer.
As Cid leaned over to get the sugarbowl, Vincent's cape swirled over the floor, its tears and edges forming and re-forming little hearts as it raised up….
"Ow! What the hell?!"