Hot Milk
Cloud stood on the bridge with Cid as the pilot shouted at Vincent over the loudspeaker and barked orders to the rest of his crew. Since take-off, the ex-SOLDIER had been trying very hard to stay out of the pilots way, partly for his own safety, and partly because Cid hadn't wanted any of Avalanche to come on board. He had said that he wanted to talk to Vincent all alone, and mostly without bossy little ninjas who apparently knew best.
Cloud had managed to finagle and invitation by pointing out that he had been the only one so far who had been able to get a word out of the gunman, so he figured he could help. Cid had grudgingly allowed him to come aboard, but Cloud was where he drew the line. The rest of Avalanche would have to wait with baited breath back at the 7th Heaven to hear how things went.
Helping Vincent had been the excuse, and although Cloud wanted to do just that, he was more concerned about fulfilling his secret agenda; getting that vacation. Helping the gunman was the perfect excuse for getting some time off without having to admit to Tifa that he needed it. Even if it was no more than a few a days, it was still more than he would have gotten had he stayed home. Cloud just couldn't ask for help, even if he was ready to give it all the time.
"Goddamn ungrateful…pretty…bastard, won't drink fucking tea…brought for team…thinks he's fucking better than everyone…"
Cloud tuned in Cid's grumbling intermittently as he and the pilot waited for Vincent to climb aboard the Highwind. He'd not seen the pilot this fired up in a long time, and he never thought that it would be because of the ever-quiet Vincent Valentine. Still, stranger things had happened.
"You!" Cid suddenly shouted to one of his crewman, "If Valentine doesn't get his ass up here in ten seconds, drop one of them crates of tea on his sorry fucking ass." The crewman nodded hesitantly and Cid went back to watching out the window. "He won't drink the tea? Then I'll fucking make him eat it, "he grumbled angrily to himself.
Cloud shook his head. "He's climbing, Cid. Give him a minute."
"No way," said the pilot, "He gets half that time. Should damn well teach him to climb as fast as he runs."
"You need to relax, Cid."
"I'm relaxed, kid," the pilot said through clenched teeth, "Completely and totally fucking calm."
Cloud believed that as much as he believed that Cid wasn't mad enough to make good on his threat to drop something on Vincent. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the loud clink of Vincent's boots as he stepped onto the bridge. The gunman looked worried and Cloud didn't blame him in the least.
"Hello Cloud," Vincent greeted him quietly, "Highwind…"
Cid didn't face him yet, but he was listening. "Thinking of running again, Vin?"
Vincent bit his lip. "It would not be wise to do so in an airborne ship. There aren't many places to go except straight down."
Cid grunted. "Damn straight. And if you ever get the sudden urge to sprout wings and fly? I'll fucking weld your goddamn boots to the floor. Got that, Vin? You're here to talk. No more runnin'."
Vincent took a deep breath and nodded, staring miserably at Cloud, as if the blond could help him. "I understand, Highwind."
"Good," Cid turned around and clapped his hands, suddenly grinning. "My ship, my rules. We're talkin' over tea."
Vincent groaned and Cloud shook his head. The blond wasn't sure if tea was a wise move considering how fast tempers had risen the last time they were all drinking it.
"Cid," he began, but the pilot cut him off.
"You're coming too, kid. Wanna know what Vin told you in case he won't tell me." The dark-haired man looked even more depressed when Cid said that.
Cid told his crew to hold down the fort and then he lead the way to the galley, he made Cloud take up the rear so Vincent had nowhere to go but forward. Nobody spoke as they walked down the corridors, and Cloud felt like he and Cid were marching Vincent off to be executed. He figured that he gunman had similar feelings.
"Sit the hell down and I'll make the tea," Cid gave the order as they entered the galley, and Cloud and Vincent obediently sat on a bench in front of a small table, watching the pilot go about his business. Cloud wanted to say something to Vincent, tell him not to worry, maybe even pat him comfortingly on the shoulder, but he found he couldn't do it with Cid in the room. He decided that silence was probably best for now, though Vincent apparently thought different.
Cloud was surprised when the gunman suddenly spoke to him. "It was only you who came?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," Cloud whispered back, "Cid didn't want anyone else."
"Hey!" Cid called to them from the stove. "Keep yer yaps shut until I sit. I don't wanna miss anything."
Cloud frowned. "We're not saying anything important, Cid."
"I'll be the judge of that, kid. Just give me a few. The tea's almost ready."
Vincent sighed heavily as he watched the pilot. "Can't I have coffee, Highwind?" he asked, and the words made Cloud wince. He really wished Vincent hadn't said that. He apparently did too once Cid slammed the kettle of boiling water back into the stove and glared daggers at him.
"What the fuck did I say before, Vin? Whose goddamn ship are we on?"
Vincent lowered his gaze. "..yours."
"Fuckin' right, it is," Cid nodded, "And I said we were drinking tea, didn't I?" He looked to Cloud for confirmation. The blond didn't appreciate the attention, but responded in the affirmative. "There, you see, Vin? Tea. Now shut the fuck up and wait for it." Cid turned back to the counter and paused. "You guys want cookies or something?"
Cloud looked to Vincent, who didn't seem keen on anything, so he answered for himself. "Sure…as long they're not stale."
"Can't guarantee that, kid, but we'll hope."
Cid finally walked the tea over to the table and poured each of them a cup, making a point to shove Vincent's right under his nose. He then walked back to get the cookies and returned to the table, sliding onto a bench across from them. He watched the gunman intently.
"Don't just stare at it," Cid scowled. "Fucking drink it, Vin."
"You cannot force me to drink anything, Highwind." Vincent responded calmly.
"I fuckin' made it, so you're gonna fuckin' drink it."
Cloud decided to sip his tea so Cid wouldn't get on his case as well. He watched the two men bickering with the hope that things wouldn't escalate to violence.
Vincent looked up at the pilot and narrowed his eyes. "That is not how this works, Highwind. I am not thirsty."
"You don't need to be goddamn thirsty to drink tea, Valentine. You're just supposed to enjoy it."
Vincent snorted. "Well I do not enjoy it, so I am not drinking it."
Cid growled and slammed his hands down on the table top, this seemed to be his favourite gesture for showing his anger. "You didn't even try the fucking stuff, so you can't fucking tell me that you don't like it."
"I believe I just did," Vincent answered smoothly.
Cloud gulped and watched a vein protrude on Cid's forehead as the man seethed. He could not believe that Vincent was provoking the pilot like this. He was essentially begging to be tossed overboard and Cloud dearly hoped that that was no the gunman's master plan.
"Guys, come on," the blond said, hoping to placate the two, "It's not that big of a deal. Do you really want to argue over tea?"
"Of course I fucking do," Cid snapped, "Stay out of this, kid. This is between me and the ungrateful prick over there."
Vincent narrowed his eyes at the insult. "Why can't you get it through your thick skull, Highwind? I do not like tea. It does not matter how many times you offer it to me, or how many times you ram a cup of it under my nose, I will not drink it."
"Why the hell not?" Cid objected, and Vincent's eyes widened.
"Are you insane?" he asked incredulously, "I just told you why. I do not like it. My god, you only hear what you want to, don't you?"
The pilot growled. "So it's not coffee, but it's still hot, ain't it?"
"That is not the point, Highwind. It does not taste the same."
Afraid that Cid would suddenly try to force feed Vincent the tea, Cloud took it upon himself to do the extreme, and he swiped his hand across the table, knocking over and spilling all their cups.
Both men blinked and stared at him, flabbergasted, momentarily forgetting their anger with each other, as if the tea had been holding them under its wicked spell. Cloud shrank a little under their stunned gazes.
"…you were fighting over tea," he said quietly, hoping that they'd realize how ridiculous they had been. It was enough to subdue Vincent, but then again, he had only been reacting to the loud pilot in the first place. Cid relaxed only minutely.
"I wouldn't be so pissed off if he'd take one damn sip," the pilot grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at the gunman.
Cloud sighed. "He'll have it if he wants it, Cid. You can't force him to drink it and you can't force him to talk." Vincent nodded appreciatively at the statement but Cid scowled.
"Oh hell no," he said childishly, "Vin's not getting out of this. I wanna know what the hell's going on!"
"I know you do," Cloud agreed, "And Vincent owes you an explanation. He knows that, but it's obviously hard for him. You can't just demand and expect to receive on the spot. Give him some time. You're basically holding him as a hostage, so he's not going anywhere. He'll talk when he's ready."
Cid sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hear, scowling at the spilled tea on table. "That stuff's not free, ya know?" he muttered as he reached for his new pack of cigarettes and lit one, puffing away moodily.
Cloud looked sheepish. "Yeah, sorry about that. I just didn't think I could yell over you, and I wanted to get rid of the problem."
Cid grunted. "Apology accepted, kid. But if you try that shit again, you better learn how to fly first." The pilot then turned his attention to Vincent. "We're done here for now. You can talk to me when you want. Now get yer scrawny ass outta here cuz I plan to smoke the rest of my pack, and I know you don't like it."
Vincent seemed more than happy to escape and promptly hurried out of the galley. Cid stopped Cloud before he could follow him, however.
"You know why he's acting like this, don't you kid?" he said, sounding tired, yet calmer. Cloud figured it was the magical effect of his cigarettes.
He nodded. "More or less. He told me some things…but I think he's still trying to work out the reason for himself."
Cid sighed and took a long drag of his cigarette. "Could ya help him? Cuz it's driving me crazy not knowing why he hates me so much."
Cloud nodded. "I'll try, Cid…and just for the record, Vincent doesn't hate you. I know that much." He left Cid with those words and exited the galley, feeling that this was not going to be quite the vacation that he'd envisioned.
