Okay, this is total crack-fic. You have been warned. There will be two parts to this. It's another three word prompt, this time provided by my future sister-in-law. Her cousin Lydia put together the plot. The words will be listed at the very end.
Thank the Force I don't own these guys.
Last Night
The first thing he was aware of was that he had a throbbing headache. He did not get headaches. The second thing was that he was naked. That in itself was not terribly unusual, he had slept in the buff before. It was the third thing was what made it peculiar: he was in a hotel room.
He lifted his head and flicked his green eyes about. Yes, definitely the hotel on the edge of town. How in the name of Mother did he end up here?
He sat up and that was when he realized that he was stuck to the sheets. He grimaced, rolling a bit to the left. The bottom sheet reluctantly pulled away from his black shoulder wing. When he tried to move said wing however, it took a great deal of effort.
Turning his head, he stared in disbelief. The large feathers were literally coated with what smelled disturbingly like maple syrup. A quick glance down confirmed the same was true for the lower wings.
What the hell had happened to him last night? More importantly, how? He was Sephiroth; malevolent, sadistic, living embodiment of darkness. He was also a highly trained, perfectly sensitized SOLDIER. There was no way someone could have done this to him.
And he certainly didn't do it to himself.
In a burst of anger, he tore himself from the bed. The few pulled out feathers where barely noted. The bulk of his body was syrup free, the wings taking the brunt of the substance.
His eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue as to how he had come to be in this position. The room itself was trashed, a lamp knocked over, an upturned chair. The bedding was thrown haphazardly across the floor.
It would appear he had a wild night. Too bad he did not recall any of it.
A small pad of paper on the desk caught his eye. He stepped over and moved the pen on top of it. Last night was phenomenal! Thanks for the memory!
He stared at the note for a very long time.
He had no idea how this had happened. Never had he found himself in a position close to this. Well there had been that one incident with Zack but that had a very logical explanation behind it despite the rumors Reno had spread about it for weeks after.
He turned and located his clothing, spread among the sheets. Then he noticed another sheet of paper under the door. Scooping it up, he read it over and then incinerated it. Not only had someone found a way to… he didn't know what exactly but they had also stuck him with the bill.
Sending a silent curse out to whomever, he went for the shower in the hope he could remove the horrible substance from his form. It was beyond difficult to clean those damned feathers.
Someone was going to pay.
--0—0—
It took over three hours but the syrup was gone now. Several feather had to be sacrificed but he still looked more or less intact. Unfortunately, the smell refused to leave and he vowed at that moment to never again eat anything that would potentially involve syrup.
Wet hair bound back into a tail, he tore the note off the pad on the nightstand. The handwriting was rather feminine but that did not mean anything. The slant told him the person was right handed, which also did not narrow things down.
He left the room, striding down the hall imperiously. With a look that dared the innkeeper to say one word, he tossed some munny on the front desk. He was not going to make the old man suffer for something he had no control over.
Sephiroth was better than that.
Out on the street, he paused for a moment to decide where he would go first. Then he went left. Though he highly doubted the man would know anything, Strife was always a good choice to vent some frustration out on. The blonde always had the perfect reaction.
He always knew just where to find him also. It troubled Sephiroth sometimes how keenly aware of the man he was. Other times he was delighted by it. Something in the back of his mind noted that he really did have a sick fixation on Strife.
Rounding a corner, Sephiroth tried to keep his attitude casual. He really wanted to simply start torching Radiant Garden and demanding answers. However he had learned the first time he did that, that the consequences of such action far outweighed the satisfaction.
Plus one never learned actually learned anything from it.
Strife glanced over from his place against the wall and sighed heavily. The man then returned his eyes to the stone beneath his feet. He did not bother saying anything.
The former general stepped before him and regarded the other. "Hello, Cloud."
"What do you want?" The blonde sounded tired.
"The same things I always want. Why do you continue to ask such pointless questions?"
Cloud did not move. "Why do we continue this pointless war?"
Well, Strife was feeling philosophical today. That boy of his must have called. Sephiroth had only seen the kid once, not having the opportunity to speak to him but from the bit of conversation he overheard had come to decide that he would likely enjoy a conversation with the teenager.
He wondered how Cloud would react to that.
Suddenly Cloud looked up. "Is that maple syrup?"
This question caused Sephiroth to dispense with the pleasantry. He removed the scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to the blonde. "Do you recognize this handwriting?"
Cloud did not bother to look at it. "Why?"
"Just answer."
He took the item and glanced over it. "It's kind of familiar…. Reminds me of Zack's actually."
Zack? Come to think of it, the man had had rather girlish handwriting. Regardless, there was no way he could have been the writer considering he had been dead for how long now?
Sephiroth scowled.
"Why?" Cloud repeated.
"That is not your concern." The long haired man stared at the ground in thought.
Cloud snarled. "Then why are you bothering me with it?"
Sephiroth arched one elegant eyebrow at him.
"Right." The blonde muttered. He looked at his nemesis oddly. "Where did you get that note?"
The question was met by stony silence.
Cloud bit his lip, an idea coming to him. He thought he knew every one of Sephiroth's expressions. The one he was wearing now however was new and was becoming quite intriguing. The man was uncomfortable.
"Someone left you that, didn't they?"
Sephiroth turned, deciding that Cloud would be of no help to him.
Suddenly, the blonde laughed. "The Great Sephiroth had a one-night-stand and doesn't remember it? That's something I never expected to hear."
Slitted green eyes narrowed.
Now curious, Cloud regarded the former general's back. He was not sure why he was doing this but he stepped forward. Now standing beside Sephiroth, he held out his hand. "Let me see that again."
Sephiroth handed over the note without a word.
Cloud studied the writing again. "At headquarters, we have a lot of written documents, reports and complaints and such. There might be something there that this would match up with."
Sephiroth flicked his eyes toward the blonde. Was the grunt implying…..?
Cloud began walking. After a few steps, he paused. "I'm not doing this by myself."
"Why are you…?" The older man was already certain of the answer.
The blonde was a predictable as ever. "I want to know just who in all the worlds was able to pull one over on you."
