Vincent's Last Birthday Escapade, Act II

By Darknightdestiny

A/N: I agree with the review I got from JackofSpades, and I will be spelling out my cursing from here on, because it really is more professional that way. I might go back and edit the previous chapter, but I might have to change those words around. Hope no one gets offended. I'll try to keep it to a minimum, but of course, Cid is there. So...yeah. Also...I'm going to try to post the third and final part much sooner than it took to do this one. It's been over a month since his birthday, and I'd like to get this finished. Sorry I made all of you wait this long. The more reviews I get, the sooner I'll post though. Not that I didn't enjoy getting 23 reviews for one chapter...just...I'm afraid you won't be looking for this since I made you wait for so long. If no one's reading anymore, then I won't see any reason to hurry. But...I hope you are still reading it. Who knows...you might only have to wait a couple of days.

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"Alright!" hollered Johnny.

"That was easier than I thought it'd be," said Ken. "Okay, Vinny. Go get dressed."

Vincent gave a lopsided smile and shook his head. He then went back into his room, presumably to do as he was requested. Then the screen went black again.

"Hold up, hold up!" shouted Yuffie, her hands waving in the air, begging for a time-out. "Pause it!" Cid obeyed, but not without some grumbling.

"What now?!"

"How come that guy," and here she pointed to the television, "gets to call him 'Vinny,' but I can't?"

"Who the hell knows? You stopped us for that? We don't have forever!" Cid looked a little more than simply annoyed.

"...Well, sorry!" Yuffie threw her hands up in the air and let them fall back down to her sides with a slapping sound as they hit her bare legs, and Cid unpaused the tape as yet more grumbling was heard throughout the room.

"Cid?" Tifa ventured.

"Yeah? Whaddya' need?"

"...You seem really on edge today. More than usual..."

"...I haven't had my tea, okay?" Tifa laughed a little. She knew that when Cid was grumpy because he 'hadn't had his tea,' it was because Cid drank his tea along with something a little...extra.

Ken called out to Vincent, "You ready yet?" A muffled voice answered from inside.

"...Give me a minute."

There was some shuffling and thumping around behind the door before Vincent emerged. His head was bowed down as he reached behind himself to pull the door shut, and he peered up through his cascade of ebony and smoke-tinted bangs at Ken. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. His long-sleeved black button-down shirt hung loosely over his waist and bunched at the elbows when he hid his hands.

A female voice whistled. "Vincent! I didn't know you cleaned up so well! Nice to see you in something other than that suit!" Vincent turned to find the owner of the voice and froze, his eyes wide in shock as loud, mixed laughter ensued. There were a dozen or so of his colleagues standing over by the counter on the other side of the room, and there was one girl standing with them, a wide grin on her face.

"Hey!" shouted Johnny. "Alissa, you're MY girl! Vincent's got his own!" Vincent just looked helplessly to him, as he stood by his door, still waiting to get moving. "Vinny, you ready to go?" Vincent gave a slight nod.

"Yes...Ken, turn that thing off." Vincent gestured to the camera. "This is not a parade."

"Oh yes it is!" laughed Ken. "You are finally going to leave your apartment after all those long days at the headquarters! You are finally going to go somewhere other than your bed on a Friday night!" Vincent just kept staring him down, as if they had pulled the cruelest joke possible. "Oh, Vin. Tsk, tsk. You just have to take the fun out of everything, don't you?"

"Yes. Put it down."

"What if I don't want to?" Ken said in the usual 'what if' tone, preceeded by a mock gasp. Johnny just snickered next to Vincent.

"Ken...do you really want to find out? Vincent can be pretty good with...heh heh...negotiations." Johnny emphasized the word 'negotiations,' because everyone in the room knew what that word meant when it came down to Turk business. "After all, he is the top man in the negotiations department." Johnny emphasized the word again. "I mean...negotiations is a really tough job..." and again. Vincent finally turned to him after a few minutes of this, his patience growing thin.

"Why do you tempt me?" he asked with a sigh. Johnny just laughed.

"So are we going, or what?"

"...As soon as Ken puts down that camera."

"Nope!" exclaimed Ken, a huge grin forming on his face. "I am the camera master! And no negotiations man is going to scare me! Nyah!!" Ken proceeded to do a little dance in place. Vincent just stared.

"...Did you start drinking already?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer." Ken stated. He was only attempting some humor, and had not even begun on the road to innebriation.

"That means yes," Johhny leaned over and whispered to Vincent, loud enough so that everyone in the room could hear.

"Hey, I heard that!" exclaimed Ken. He shifted his gaze back to Vincent. "You're not so scary, Mr. Boss-man." Normally this would have been enough to send him sliding down in the ranks, fast as a child in the middle of a playground, but Ken and Vincent had been friends for a long time before Vincent had gotten promoted to the head position in the department.

"Chase him, chase him!" the chorus resounded around the room. Everyone laughed immediately at the thought of their quiet gentleman of a boss chasing his wild friend around the room before Vincent even got started.

"...I think not. I'd rather retain my dignity." Vincent shifted his weight to one leg and crossed his arms.

"See?" exclaimed Ken, half-whining as he went along, "That's what I'm talking about! You need to let loose! You used to be so much fun..." Here Ken mocked sadness and frowned, shaking his head. Then he gave off a fake sniffle. Johnny cackled like a hyena. Vincent...rolled his eyes.

"This job takes a lot out of you."

"It's nothing you haven't done before! Come on...I'll buy you a drink."

"...I don't know." Vincent didn't look indecisive; he looked more like he had already decided that this was one idea he wasn't feeling into at all.

"Vincent," Johnny slapped him on the back, "do you really want to disappoint all of these people?" Johnny gestured to the crowd that had accumulated in the Turk-issued apartment. "They all came out for your big day," he feigned disappointment as well, even though Vincent's reaction to the entire ordeal was to be expected by them all, and they had been prepared for this, "and you're just gonna make them turn around and go home?"

"No way..." said Ken. "Or in the words of Mr. Valentine, 'I think not.'" They laughed a lot at this impression. Ken did a pretty good imitation of Vincent's soft and decisive voice.

Vincent looked at Johnny's hand, which was still on his back, and raised one eyebrow. Johnny quickly caught on to the signal and removed his hand. "I suppose...that one drink wouldn't hurt." Vincent gave in to their protests.

"Yahoo!" whooped Johnny. "We're going downtown! Everybody grab your things and let's get goin'!"

"...One more thing," came Vincent's steady tone, accompanied by a glare and a smirk.

"And what is that, oh solemn one?" mocked Ken.

"...This." Vincent pulled and lifted his left hand up from his pocket, and flicked off the camera switch.

Several hours and a few too many drinks later, the camera was back on, and Vincent was sitting in a huge cushioned chair, flipping through some notebooks. "I don't like that one. It looks...trashy."

"What's wrong with it?!" exclaimed a very tipsy Ken. "Johnny has one of those." Johnny nodded.

Vincent smirked. "That was exactly my point."

"Alissa likes it," said Ken. "You're jus...you're just..." Ken snapped his fingers repeatedly, trying to find the word he was looking for. "Johnny, what's that word? You know...when you're scared of somethin'? Uh..."

"Scared?" asked Johnny.

"...Yeah! That's it. Vincent, you're just scared."

Vincent shook his head. "You're a numbskull," he intoned.

Finally, Vincent's previous insult on Johnny registered with the drunken man. "Hey!" he said. "That wasn't very nice! Mine is not trashish! It was an edgimicated decishun! You're a big meanie!" Alissa hung on Johnny's shoulder.

"You know," she said to everyone in the room, who just so happened to be crowded around the back and sides of Vincent's chair, "He shouldn't get one of those. He should get one of those over there. Y'know...something Lu can play with."

"You mus' be kiddin'," said Ken. "Vin doesn' wan' one o' those," he slurred out, his voice getting lower as he shook his head. "I mean...he doesn'...doesn'...damn. He does not-t-t!" Ken emphasized the 't' several times at the end of his second try, in an attempt to prove that he was still capable of normal speech patterns.

"Well, I think he should," said Alissa, who had only consumed two drinks the entire night. She hugged Johnny tighter from behind and reached around him towards Vincent. "And he should get it right there!" Alissa tugged on his lip with her finger.

"...You're jokin'! Vin would never do that. He wants this..." Ken shoved a book at Johnny and Alissa, not even bothering to show Vincent, who was staring at a suddenly interesting patch of over-stained wood on the wall.

"Ooooh," said Johnny, "this's cool." Alissa looked at it for a bit, then took the book and walked over to Vincent.

"Do you want this one?" she asked. Vincent stared at her for a bit, then his eyes shifted to the side as if he had lapsed into deep thought.

"No...I knew what I wanted before."

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh..." he nodded his head and opened another book. "I just have to find it..." He flipped through as he talked. He flipped through, and flipped some more...and flipped...and flipped...

"Oh, Vin, jus' give it to me!" said Ken. "I can find it."

"...You don't know what it looks like."

"But I know what you like."

"...No, you don't. I didn't want what you said..."

"I can't find it." Alissa rolled her eyes at Ken, knowing full well that he couldn't find it, and that Vincent was right.

Suddenly, Vincent remembered to tell Ken something. "It's on page 57." Now Alissa rolled her eyes at Vincent, knowing that he should have been able to find it himself if he remembered the page number from before.

"Give me those," she said. She grabbed the book and turned to page 57. "Wow...Vincent, is this really the one that you want? That's going to hurt very much...there are so many lines..."

"I said that was it," said Vincent. His speech was apparently fine, but the alcohol had taken a toll on his memory, seeing that he couldn't even find something he had expressed such a sureness for.

"Vincent...I'm going to ask you again," said Alissa. "Are you sure about this? Because...it's going to hurt." Vincent nodded. "Really badly..." she continued. He nodded again. "Have you studied this?" He nodded.

"It looks like her."

"Awwww!" shouted Johnny. "Thas' so sweet!"

"..." Vincent looked at Johnny. "What're you ogling at?"

"Oh, nothin'... I jus' thought Alissa's pierced lip idea was good. Hey, stick out your tongue."

"No."

"...You really are a mean old boss."

Vincent stood up and the rest of them followed to the back of the room, down one of the wooden hallways lit with bright and shining overhead lights, the flourescents usually found in a classroom or in a laboratory. Here, Vincent sat down in another chair like the first one, and a previously hidden character pulled up a bench and sat down next to him. The man pulled out a case and opened it, revealing some needles and some thin tubes of color. "Wow..."the man said, when Alissa handed him the open book. "Are you sure about this?"

Vincent threw his head back in the chair. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Well...okay...but don't say I didn't warn you." The man bent down, positioning his view over Vincent's left forearm and placed one of the needles next to it. The man flicked a small switch on the device and a thin-sounding buzzing began to stir within the tip of the metal. He brought the cold end of the sterilized tool down on Vincent's arm...

...And a loud shriek echoed throughout the room.

"Vinny!" Johnny howled amidst his laughter. He pointed at Alissa. "She...haha...she warned you!" The man who was committing the deed continued with an uncomfortable look on his face, as if he wasn't sure whether or not he should stop.

The screaming stopped as abruptly as it had started. "I was only kidding," said Vincent. He knocked his right arm against the wall quite forcefully, and Alissa was afraid that he might crush something within his hand. Vincent smirked. "I can't feel a damn thing." He then burst into laughter. The man working on his arm was assaulted with a case of wide-eyed syndrome, and he was sweating. He looked as if he had survived his first heart attack, and Alissa thought he might drop his instruments. In fact, there were a lot of things that passed through Alissa's mind that night. The males of the group were simply too oblivious to be paying any attention. Yes...even Vincent.

"He made a joke!" Ken shouted and pointed at Vincent. "Haha...he made a joke!" Johnny doubled over and laughed from a nearby spot on the floor.

"You should have seen your face," said Vincent. "That was priceless."

"Uahahahaha!!" Johnny was red and purple in the face. "Oh...man. Haha!" The artist winced.

"Do you mind keeping it down? This is a very delicate process..." Johnny calmed himself down with the help of Alissa, and Ken quieted himself.

"Sure thing, old man," said Ken.

"Sorry," said Johnny. "But if ya knew this guy...you'd understand." He shot a smug face at Vincent. Suddenly, the situation at hand dawned on him. "...We got it on tape, too!" Johnny sidled over to Ken and slapped him a high five on his free hand.

"Hey..." Vincent said, a bit drowsily. "I thought I turned that off."

"You did," said Ken. "I turned it back on." Vincent was suddenly aware of the simplicity in the action. Without warning, he burst into laughter.

"Ken?" addressed Johnny. "Ken, I think you broke him."

There, in the middle of a television screen, was a clear shot of Vincent, sitting in a cushioned chair, laughing it up with a couple of drunken Turks and their buddies from the 'office'.

"Wow..." Yuffie stared at the picture. "I didn't know Vinny could do that."

"Well..." Cloud ran a hand through his hair, "I don't think any of us did."

Yuffie shot a sarcastic glare at Cloud. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Dat boy was laughin'!"

"...I wonder what it would have been like if I had been there," Reeve pondered aloud. Barret turned on the cat.

"Dey fortunes woulda been told, and den dey woulda sent ya home! You suck, cat."

"Hey!" shouted Reeve. "How come you're always so mean to me?" Cid had had about enough of this, and he paused the tape again, right when he was starting to be able to make out the design Vincent had picked. Now that would have actually qualified as 'learning something about Vincent.' Everything else had qualified as 'learning that Ken and Johnny are a couple of drunken freaks who can't speak correctly while under the influence.'

"You two shut yer mouths!! If I have to listen to any more of this shit, then I'm gonna punch yer lights out!"

"Well, Cid..." Nanaki finally spoke up, "that might not be the best way to solve the problem. After all, Barret is a pretty large man, and I don't see why-"

"You shut yer mouth, too!"

"...Honestly, Cid-"

"Shut it." Cid gave Nanaki a warning glare. Nanaki decided to comply with Cid's 'request,' as he did not want to invoke the situation any further. "That's better!" the pilot sighed loudly in contentment. He turned back to the television and pressed the 'play' button once more on the VCR. Tifa just looked at him, happy that the 'Almighty Cid Highwind' hadn't decided to go and cause a ruckus.

"...Excuse me...but could you all keep the...noise...down?" A soft voice floated up from the back of the hallway and faded out. Tifa's heart leapt into her throat. So her fear had come true, after all. She dared to look behind her.

There stood an exhausted and wavering Vincent Valentine, sweat still clinging to his forehead and his shirt, his hair touseled and matted, flowing all over the place. His eyes were fixed on the now playing screen, and they were wide in horror. His face was pale, even more so than usual.

Yuffie turned around to meet the voice. "Ack! Vinny!" she clamped her hand over her mouth as soon as his detested nickname flew past her lips. She feared the worst of it would be on her for some reason, as she always seemed to have a tendency to make situations worse than they would have been had she just kept out of the way.

Tifa's eyes slowly moved from Vincent's shocked form to Cid's own face. He sat next to Tifa, and both were looking over the backs of their seats at Vincent, whose eyes were still fixed on the screen. Cid's eyes were wide as well, and his cigarette hung limply from his lip, stuck there only because all of the moisture in his mouth had disappeared, and the paper had literally stuck itself into the dry grip of the corner of his mouth.

"Shit."

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A/N:...Act III, last part...coming soon...::laughs::
You're not ready for this. ::Headbangs to Rammstein's 'Engel':: Hee...omake.
I apologize for any bad spelling errors. Our copy of Word no longer works, and so I've been making these by HTML code lately. I don't have a spell-checker, so...yeah. Sorry...::kicks computer::