19.

Even Shelke had to admit that the party wasn't so bad now that someone had ripped open the liquor cabinet.

Weiss played bartender until Tifa turned up and chased him out of the room with a pastel nylon spatula. The well-equipped barmaid set up shop next to the buffet table, charging $2 a drink and not checking proof of age – a good thing, since Shelke didn't have a driver's license.

Cloud kept a watchful eye on the proceedings. With Shinra and the Turks present and those three leatherette delinquents calling the shots, Cloud didn't feel particularly at ease. He nursed a lingering suspicion that someone here was up to something, and it probably wasn't "Secret Santa".

Not wanting to lose his edge, and not really knowing what effect strong liquor might have on his delicate constitution, he checked out the buffet table. Silvery urns full of coffee graced one end, while at the other a large crystal punch bowl offered up a vista of fluffy green. Ah, yes, thought Cloud. 7-Up and lime sherbet punch, the bane of holiday gatherings everywhere. At least there doesn't seem to be any fruitcake… He bypassed the crystal cups and selected a fresh paper cup instead so he could have the pleasure of folding the little paper handles out: a feat that always made him feel a little more confident.

He filled the cup with punch, unaware of the sinister presence that had merged with the beverage.

He raised the cup to his lips.

The room vanished, replaced with an endless vista of flowers; a warm presence embraced him from behind.

As ample boobs squished against his back, Cloud jumped half out of his skin. "Dammit, Aerith, you've got to stop sneaking up on me like that! You've got one hell of an unfair advantage!"

Gentle giggles tickled his ear. "Dilly dally, shilly shally!"

Cloud heaved a disgusted sigh. "You're never going to let her live that down, are you?"

"Nope!"

Cloud tried to turn, but Aerith reached up and grabbed him by the nose.

"Gyaaa! Leggo by doze!"

"No peeking!" Aerith kissed him on the side of his neck, let go of his nose, and whispered, "Get back to your party, Cloud. Have fun!"

As reality jolted back around him, Cloud lurched forward, his balance thrown off by Aerith's fangirling. He caught himself before running into anyone, but his drink wasn't so lucky: it tipped down the front of his shirt in a thick and sticky mess.

"Ah, hell, Aerith" Cloud muttered under his breath as he discarded the cup he'd so painstakingly folded the handles out on. "If you wanted me to get a beer, you should have just said so."

"Cloud? You okay?" Tifa looked up at him with concern. It usually wasn't a good sign when Cloud talked to people Tifa couldn't see.

"Yeah. I need to clean this up, I'll be right back." Cloud hurried out of the room and up the stairs, vaguely recalling the location of the bathroom. He hauled the door open –

– and found himself face to face with a mostly naked Vincent.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Cloud blushed darker than the other man's raggedy cape. "I didn't know you were –"

"No, no," Vincent replied quickly as he struggled to cover his modesty. "It's not what it looks like."

It looks like about seven inches…Cloud shook his head to clear out the thought before it could leave a lasting impression. "So, what's going on?"

Vincent leaned against the wall, his expression one of unhappy resignation. "Had a bit of a Chaos moment. He never puts things back where he finds them. Now I'm stuck trying to safety-pin my pants back together, among other things."

"…oh." Cloud fidgeted, wondering what he should do.

"What's that on your shirt, a hairball?"

Cloud looked down, remembered why he'd barged into the bathroom. "Punch. Spilled it."

"Nasty stuff. I wouldn't –" Vincent turned to the side as though engaged in another conversation. In a mocking sing-song voice much at odds with his usual monotone he said, "I wouldn't drink that if I were you, yeah, yeah, I know you wouldn't! We've established that you were right and I was wrong, put it to rest, already!"

Cloud backed up a step. "I'll just find the laundry room, then…"

Vincent turned back toward him and beckoned with his gauntletless hand. "Tell you what. You help me, I'll help you. Deal?"

Unable to resist a plea for help, yet uncertain whether he had the necessary skills to finally make a difference, Cloud nodded. "What do you want me to do?"