Disclaimer: I STILL don't own anything.

A/N: Here's the second half of this God – awfully long interlude. Well, at least, on the bright side of things, this one has at least a little tiny bit of plot towards the end.

Interlude 1 – Part 2: A Drunkard and a Vampire

"Hey Cloud!"

"Yes, Yuffie?"

"Look out the window over there! There's a pink Chocobo!"

"No there isn't, Yuffie."

"How do you know, smarty pants?"

"I helped build this bar. There isn't a window over there. And you are not stealing a sip of my drink."

"Aww, c'mon. It's not like I've never drank before! You used to let me steal sips from you in bars all the time."

"That was beer, Yuffie. A Long Island Iced Tea is too strong for a little girl."

Yuffie sat grumpily on her barstool. Cloud was always nice to her. Him and Tifa were the only two that didn't call her "brat" or "pest." Well, Vincent didn't either, but Vincent didn't call her anything. But, now she saw it. Even after a year, he still thinks I'm a little girl. I'm already SEVENTEEN for Pete's sake. I'll show that spikey headed bastards who's a little girl. It's Wedgie Time! WHAHAHAHA!! But not yet. No, my little, ninja, wedgie-master hands will wait until he least expects it. Wait a second, did I just say for Pete's sake? GAWD that was lame. Who is Pete anyway, and why is his sake so important? "Hey, Cloud?"

"No, Yuffie."

"Oh, hush up! I was just gonna ask why it's called a Long Island Iced Tea?"

"Because if little underage ninja's steal sips of it, they'll puke enough to create a very long island."

"Oh man, that was so funny I forgot to laugh. But seriously, what's Long Island?"

"A magical place where everything, even the iced tea, has alcohol in it."

"Ooo, two corny jokes in a row, I'm impressed. Now will ya tell me?"

"They just put two words together that sound right?'

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Because I wasn't there when it happened?"

"Why weren't you?" Gawd, I love this game…

"Because it probably happened before I was born."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not that old."

"Why not?" I could do this for hours…

Yuffie was close; she could only do it for one hour. At a little bit after 10, Cloud had his fill of Yuffie's question game, and broke the seal of sleep. He was the first to retire to bed (save Reno). Not long after did Tifa and Red follow suit. She watched the rain, now coming down much harder than it had been previously, and let boredom come over her again. Luckily, Barret and Cid could still provide the girl some entertainment for a while. "So, how's the old fart doin', Barret?"

As if on cue, both hands were revealed, and Cid had lost once again. "Goddamn you, ya annoying little brat! Ya fucked up my game for the last time, Pest!"

Yuffie stood silently in disbelief with her mouth ajar as Cid stomped up to the room he shared with Red. The old pilots cursed at her all the time, but this time it was filled with anger, not playful annoyance. Barret tried his best to comfort her. "Don'tcha worry. Da old man's jus pissy cuz I been kickin' his sorry ass all night."

"Yeah, you're probably right." You better be right! Oh man am I gonna kick that smoking billow of shit's ass in the morning!

Elena thought the dark night complimented Rude very well. His bald head up against the night sky looked like some strange, tan moon. She had to fight the urge to rub his shiny head to see if it squeaked. Maybe she'd let her hand wander into the rain falling outside of the covered patio to get an extra bit of sound potential. Oh god, I sound like that Yuffie girl. Am I really that bored? No. Elena knew she wasn't bored; she was worried, and she was looking for anything, even a shiny head, to take her mind off her worries.

She and Rude had been sitting outside together for at least 2 hours. The whole time they were in silence, but she was used to it. Whenever Reno acted strangely and left a question hanging over their heads, like he did tonight, they would sit outside like this engaged in a battle of wills. Neither of them wanted to talk about what was on their minds at times like this, but they both knew they had to. So they would sit in silence until one cracked and asked the question.

"What do you think is wrong with Reno?" Rude always won. He was always silent – it was an unfair advantage over the rather talkative Elena.

"He thinks it's his fault."

Elena knew the answer to the question she was about to ask, but chose to play dumb to draw out the time she had to think of some solution. "What's his fault?'

Rude almost smirked. She always asked needless questions, questions she knew no one wanted to answer aloud. She might not have been the deadliest of the Turks, but she would make one hell of a sadistic interrogator. "He thinks he's the reason Reeve was kidnapped. His logic is that he was the last to be with Reeve, and he left him there alone."

Elena feigned anger. "What the hell am I, chopped liver? He left Reeve to come save me. If he didn't, I might be in a hospital bed somewhere."

"And he'd blame himself for not leaving Reeve to help you." Rude spoke quickly and with a matter-of-fact feeling, like he was simply finishing Elena's sentence. He knew Reno better than he knew himself. They had grown up together, joined Shinra together, and became Turks together. It was killing him to see his lifelong friend go down the path of self-inflicted ridicule (because he knew how vicious Reno could berate someone, including himself).

And Elena was left as the outsider. Reno and Rude grew up in the slums together, she lived on the plate alone. They climbed each wrung of the Shinra ladder together and became Turks, and she just jumped right in without trouble. They were men, she was a woman. Even their names were separate. Their names began with R's, hers with an E. She would never be one of them, but she'd be damned if she would let one of them fall into depression. "Maybe we should go up and see how he's doing?" For the first time since they began speaking, Elena took her eyes away from the rain around her and looked at the bigger Turk. She could read nothing from his blank expression, just like always.

Rude said nothing, but silently followed as Elena lead the way back to the bar.

Whahaha! I'll show that Cloud! Yuffie silently crept down the stairs from her room. She had retreated to her quarters after Barret insisted that he couldn't trust her down here by herself, and that there was no way he was staying up until she felt tired. So, as an act of good faith, she "went to sleep" soon after Barret and Cid's card game had ended. Gawd I'm sneaky!

Suddenly, she heard the side door to the bar opening. With ninja like reflexes (I don't where she got those from?), she dove behind the bar and landed painlessly on her side. She peeked around from her hiding space to spy on the intruder. Those damned Turks have the worst timing…

After she was sure the coast was clear, Yuffie bounced up and began sifting through the things behind Tifa's bar. What? No little picture thing that tells you how to make stuff? It was foolish to think that there would be. Tifa was a bartender from before Yuffie had even met her; she probably knew how to make everything by heart. "Oh well…" Since Yuffie deemed that everyone else was asleep, she abandoned her inner monolog and opted to speak aloud.

"Let's see here." Yuffie put a glass down on the bar that was far too large to safely hold an alcoholic beverage. Then, she proceeded to pull out bottles filled with various shades of amber out. "A little bit of this… a splash of that… Ooo, this smells good, a LOT of this. Some of that, that, and then this, and, Viola!" Yuffie held her drink above her head proudly. "Yuffie Island Iced Yuffie!"

She couldn't hold back her giggles at her own silliness. Heehee, the name has Yuffie in it TWICE! Gawd, I'm hilarious…A small sip quickly replaced her giggles with hacks. "Ahh.. th-this tas- ack! – tastes – da-da-damn… gr-GREAT!" She managed to proclaim herself the best bartender the world had ever seen, in between violent coughs, that is.

Suddenly, the front door swung open in synchronization with a clap of thunder. A tall man stood in the open doorway. A spark of lightning lit up the figure long enough to make his features distinguishable. His long hair was dangling in front of his face. Torn and tattered clothes covered his body from head to toe. They even extended up to cover much of his face. The only bit of skin the man did show through the tears of his clothing was unrecognizable due to the sizable amount of blood that covered it. This mysterious sight, combined with the potency of the single sip of her drink sent Yuffie fainting to the floor with fear.

She didn't know how long she had been out, but it felt like at least a few days. Her head was throbbing – it smacked against the hardwood floor when she fell. Unconsciously, her hand traveled up to the back of her head to access the damage. Instead of feeling the soft squish of brain that she feared, she felt the cold sting of metal. She shot up to a sitting position and would have screamed, but a gloved hand quickly covered her mouth. Gawd, I've done it now! I got drunk and wandered around until this CREEP captured me. Oh no, what if he rapes me?

Yuffie wiggled her agile body around, failing her limbs wildly. This creep wasn't going to rape her without having to fight for it!

"Hold still…" A cold, emotionless voice stopped Yuffie in her tracks. A scary voice like that would've scared anyone else senseless, but she recognized it immediately. "You'll wake the others."

"Gawd, Vinnie. You look like shit." She was speaking the brutal truth. His hair was dripping wet and his clothes were torn in many places. The cloth that stayed in tact was soaked through with a mixture of rain water, sweat, and blood. He had minor cuts all over his arms. But, wretched as his body looked, his face was still perfectly unharmed. His pale white skin held a glowing, supernatural quality amidst the darkness of the bar. The skin of his face didn't contain a single scratch or fleck of dirt. And his eyes put away the thoughts that this man might be some poor, damaged, helpless individual that his body screamed to be. Crimson shone through the darkness to ward off any sympathy. His eyes were just as deadly looking as they were the first time she saw him flying out of his coffin.

A few minutes passed by the two in silence. Vincent spoke only out of necessity. It seemed as if Yuffie would never speak unless he initiated the conversation. The girl was surprisingly quiet when she was drunk. "Go to bed, Yuffie…"

Her face remained blank and her body showed no sign of obeying. Hey, he called me Yuffie. Not pest, or brat, or drunk-ass ninja. Maybe that means he'll help me beat up Cid tomorrow. That guy's such a bastard.

"… and stay away from these drinks. Your body is far to small to handle something like this." Vincent held up the cup that had poisoned her. The sight of the amber liquid reminded her of what had taken place.

"How long was I out?" Her eyes made their way from the glass back to Vincent's pale face.

"About ten minutes."

"It wasn't long enough." With that said, Yuffie closed her eyes and her body went limp. Quickly enough to be passed of for as an unconscious reaction, Vincent caught Yuffie's falling head into his human hand. He shifted the weight of her body into his arms and proceeded to carry her up the stairs. Whether she had passed out or fallen asleep, it was still in her best interest to spend the remainder of the night in a bed rather than the cold floor of a bar. He checked each door and assumed the only unlocked one was Yuffie's. Luckily enough, the room was empty, so he deemed his assumption correct.

Vincent gently put Yuffie down on her bed. He quickly and gently removed her boots and her arm guard. He examined her for a moment. He figured he should take her suspenders off as well, as they could end up being deadly ropes around a drunk Yuffie's neck if she was the kind of person who liked to roll around in her sleep. With that done, he deemed her ready for sleep. After pulling the sheets back, sliding her beneath them, and finally tucking her in, Vincent quickly and quietly left her room.

In the hallway, Vincent looked over the bar. The only unlocked door… It looked like he'd be sleeping on a barstool tonight, but he didn't really mind. It surely would be better than the dirt and rocks that had been his bed for the past few weeks.

A/N: Finally done with this far-too-long interlude. Isn't it sad when one interlude nearly doubles the total amount of words that existed before it? Don't worry, I'll probably explain what the hell happened to Vincent in the next few chapters. Oh, and please please please review. I feel like I'm just writing this for me and the TWO people that have reviewed. Reno Spiegel and Six-string Samurai each get "manly" and purely plutonic hugs for their support.