Ta answer a reviewers question, I've never had any teachers as bad as say, Hojo or Tellah. I just think Hojo would make an evil teacher, and Tellah just struck me as amusing irony. Much like Relm, actually. I've had Relm-esque teachers, but never at her level of pretention. It's officially way too late. I should be asleep.
I'll finish da Dragon Demon fic soon. Honest. Fer real this time.
Oh yeah. Cause people asked me this, it's called The Workaholic cause it's named after a song by 2 Unlimited that was on when I started it, before I knew it'd explode inta this monster of a story. If ya listen ta da song, it works with it pretty well I think. Especially da school bells at da beginnin.
This is shorter then my usual chapters, but important stuff happens in it. Each day they get closer and closer...dance my puppets DANCE!
The two of them walked outside in silence until Vincent abruptly stopped short. Cid paused along with him, blinking in confusion.
"What?"
"I..." Vincent clenched a fist angrily as his voice sank. "I forgot I have to do a report tomorrow..."
"What kind of report?"
"It's for my art history class...something about a renaissance artist...typical, but I was supposed to go the library..."
"Well, why don't we go now?" Cid shrugged casually. "They shouldn't be closed now. @#$^, the libraries are one of the last buildings t'get closed."
Vincent smiled softly at him. "And how would you know that?"
"Y'know how it is." Cid laughed awkwardly. "You go out killing whores and burying bodies as often as I do, and you know who could be watchin'. 'Sides..." Cid, as if reminded by the point he was about to make, lit a cigarette. "Reno #$#&in' hates it when I smoke in the room."
They walked for some time and traded inconsequential banter until Vincent noticed they passed Cid's dorm. He waited for a few minutes afterwards, thinking maybe Cid was going to walk with him a short distance then turn back. It became gradually more clear that Cid was intending to accompany him the entire distance.
"Um...Highwind..."
Cid blew a cloud of smoke into the still night air before turning to face him. "Huh?"
"Are you coming with me?"
"Well..." Cid coughed and looked away. "#$&#, sure. I mean...we haven't spent a lot of time hangin' out like we used to, so..."
He avoided discussion of their previous argument completely, which Vincent appreciated. He would rather have the affair remain in the past where it belonged.
"I'm not going to hang out at the library, you know...I have to get some books and do my report..."
"Oh #$&#, sure I know that, I mean, I was payin' attention before and everything." Cid shrugged exaggeratedly. "I won't bother you at all."
"Then what's the point? If we aren't talking, then why would you want to be there at all?" Vincent put his hands in his pockets, genuinely confused. "I'll just be ignoring you."
"$%&#, that's okay." Cid mumbled around his cigarette. There was a pause as Cid copied Vincent's movement, putting his own hands into one of his many pockets. "I'll jus' be there."
Vincent stared at Cid for a few moments, but he gave no further explanation, studiously looking away from him.
That's it? You can't just want to be there because I'll be there, can you?
...Did...did you miss me that much...?
Vincent turned his attention back to the sidewalk, wondering if Cid would be able to hear him. "I'd feel better if you were there anyway...it can be dangerous at night."
"Oh sure, sure." Cid latched onto this excuse quickly. "With those #$^#in' #^$@^&$ weapons runnin' around. I know that #$%#tard Hojo said he wouldn't let 'em #&$# me up anymore, but I don't #%&#in' trust him. #$^@in' #$@#sucker."
Vincent smiled at the flow of epithets, looking upwards to the sky. The stars shone brightly tonight. "I have to agree...I don't trust him either. So it's better this way."
"Yeah..."
Both of them were grateful for an excuse.
"Are you just going to stare at me?" Vincent leaned over a book, one metallic hand buried in his hair.
"What?"
The library had small alcoves buried among rows of books, each equipped with a table, a lamp, and a few chairs. Intended for private studying or meetings for group projects, they had small partitions to section them off from the rest of the library. Vincent and Cid studying in one of these areas was rather unnecessary considering the building seemed to be deserted, but there was the matter of the librarian who glared at them frostily when they entered. They did not want to endure her silent annoyance any longer then they had to.
Vincent had struggled to find a book that would suit his needs. He had to find one about this certain artist in the renaissance who, as fate would have it, had no books specifically dedicated to him or his work. Vincent took out several large compendiums on renaissance art in general in hopes of finding some snippets of information, but the books were filled with so many paintings and names that he was having difficulty locating the one he wanted. The index was no help whatsoever, referencing incredibly minor and unhelpful things such as the word "painting" or "fresco" instead of actual artists. He found it rather annoying and impractical.
Cid sat to one side, his head resting on his arms, staring at Vincent distractedly as he struggled his way through another thick book.
"You're staring at me. It makes it hard to concentrate." Vincent glanced at him with a mix of annoyance and appreciation. He was glad that Cid had decided to accompany him, but he was never going to get any work done this way. "Why don't you get a book to read?"
"Meh, don't like readin'."
Vincent smiled. "And you want to be a writer."
"Eh, #$&# you." Cid mumbled without any menace. "All the books in here suck @^% anyway."
"Are you sure? You must be bored out of your mind." Vincent looked back down at the book, wishing it would write his report for him. "I'm sure you have to have better things to do then watch me read."
"Not really. I got a paper to #$&#in' write, but I don't think I'll do it. I don't feel like it."
"At this rate, you're going to fail out of college..." Vincent turned a page. Cid leaned his head to one side nonchalantly.
"Eh, that old $%&@ Tellah'll just #%&*@ at me again. 'You have no respect for the written word, yap yap blah #&%# blah I like to whack off at night with Dickinson blah #$&@in' blah.' It's $%&#in' borin'."
Vincent found himself laughing softly and looked around him to see if anyone had noticed. Despite the utter lack of other people since they had entered, Vincent felt obligated to remind Cid: "Keep your voice down, we're in a library."
Cid rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever..."
A few minutes passed by before Vincent ventured to speak again, this time his tone serious and soft. "But really...why are you here?"
"#%&#..." Cid mumbled in response. "I really #$&#in' hate it when we #&#%@ at each other. It #$&#in' drives me crazy. I'm just glad to be around you and not feel like you're going to smash my head in and drink my blood or something."
Vincent looked at him for a few seconds, then folded his arms atop his book, staring at Cid intently. "Are people saying I'm a vampire again?"
Cid seemed to enjoy having this much attention being paid to him. He sat up and poked Vincent's forehead. "You got the look down, man. Can't #$&#in' blame 'em." He watched Vincent frown slightly before continuing. "I'm just #&#&tin' you, I ain't heard anythin' like that."
"I hate it when people call me a vampire. It's ridiculous." Vincent rubbed his forehead distractedly. "But...you were saying...?"
Cid blinked at him for a few moments, then sighed deeply. "Why I'm here...#$&#. I don't #%&#in' know. I just missed you, I guess. Or bein' around you. $%&#."
"Missed me?"
"Yeah. You're the only one I can really #$%&in' talk to. Or at least, the only one who listens. Y'know..."
Vincent did know. He felt obligated to continue his line of questions though. "But you have Reeve..."
When he spoke his name he felt a shiver of bad feeling run through him for a moment that he forcibly dispelled. He was not about to bring that up again if he had the choice.
Cid sighed and leaned down against the table, folding his arms and staring up at Vincent from his new vantage point. "He's...it's not th' same. Everythin' with Reeve is a #$#&in' joke, y'know? It has to be that way, or...#%&#. 'S just not the same."
Vincent folded down the corner of the current page in his book and closed it, accepting the fact that he would make no further progress. He focused his attention entirely on his blonde companion. "You don't think of me that way?"
"Mmmnno..." Cid mumbled underneath his breath. "#$^&, Vin...I mean...#$&#...I got th' #&#&in' $&@# kicked out've me 'cause I knew you..."
Or because they thought you were gay. Vincent leaned forward on his hands and stared at his friend. A slight smile came to his lips. "That wasn't exactly my fault. I certainly didn't tell them to attack you."
"You #&$#&." Cid mock-glared at him before he straightened up, matching Vincent's eyes. "That's not what I meant."
"Well, what did you mean?"
"Just..." Cid struggled with his wording and finally ended up shrugging. "It's different with us. Y'know...it's...#%&#, I'm no good at this %&#&."
"Don't worry..." Vincent smiled to himself as he opened his book again. "I think I know what you mean."
"Yeah..." Cid spoke almost as an afterthought, staring at the table intently as if it was trying to give him an encoded message. "I #&#@in' hope you do."
There was a silence that continued for some period of time as Vincent returned to his reading, struggling to take mental notes in the wake of what he had just heard, and Cid tried to keep himself amused. Vincent found it difficult to read now...his eyes moved over the words but none of them consciously registered. Instead, he found himself glancing over at Cid more often then he was aware, staring at him as if waiting for a well-worded, easily understandable explanation of his behavior and their relationship as a whole.
Although it shouldn't have been so complicated to begin with. They were friends, right? That should have been enough. But something about Cid's tone, or his behavior, or everything that had happened to them since that first day seemed to speak of something else. Vincent could not give the feeling a name, as the moment he focused on it it retreated and vanished, but he was sure that there was more in Cid's words then simple sounds.
Maybe if he tried to start a conversation himself he would have more luck in finding out why he felt so...but what could he talk about...?
Something that had happened recently...
"About the twins..."
"What about 'em?"
Vincent found himself asking the same question.
"I...I mean, I think we should...do something about them." Vincent felt increasingly awkward now. He was not very good at this. Cid looked up at him, somehow interested in what he was saying.
"Like what? What the #$&# are you talking about?"
"You know how Thorn mentioned money...I think their jobs around campus are really...important to them, to say the least. There's got to be something we can do..."
Cid paused, then smiled broadly. "I get it. You want to take on one of their jobs for 'em while they're takin' a break."
Vincent smiled in what he hoped was a confident way, although that idea was the furthest thing from his mind. However, on further thought it was the most beneficial thing he could do for Zorn and Thorn. "Of course."
"Well, first of all, what job are we goin' to do? #%&#, we're goin' to have to plan out our schedules..."
"'We?'"
"Yes, we." Cid smirked at him knowingly. "There are two of those little $&#&*^&s, remember? I'm thinkin' that most of the #&$@ they do needs two people."
Made sense. "Alright then...so what should we try to do...?"
"#$&#, I don't know. We should go ask 'em tomorrow. You up for it?"
"Sounds like a plan...if I ever finish this paper, that is..."
"Don't make it sound like that's my fault." Cid leaned back down onto his arms. "Not my fault you can't #%$&in' focus."
"And of course, you aren't distracting me whatsoever." Vincent struggled to read the words in front of him and again, they dissolved into meaningless symbols. He smiled at Cid's words though, finding the paper due the next morning very inconsequential in the face of their new plan.
It wasn't as if he cared about what he was supposed to be learning about.
Cid held up a hand in mockery of Vincent, moving it along with his words. "I'm Vincent, #$^#& #$^#$ #$&&#."
Vincent struggled to glare at him, but found he could not remove the smile from his face. Somehow, Cid always managed to find the right words to remove the gravity of any situation.
Maybe that was why Vincent felt so attached to him...he didn't smile much back home. He probably smiled a great deal more in his first month at college then the entire last year.
Then again, he didn't have any friends a year ago. Now he had Cid Highwind...
All the petty arguments and fights that he and Cid had had over the short time they had known each other now seemed completely pointless. Everything that Cid had given him, from the endless jokes to the support when he was sick, made their disputes and different personalities unimportant.
His classes, his homework, everything...Vincent found that when he truly thought about it, all he wanted to do now was spend time with Cid, even if it was doing absolutely nothing.
"What the #$&# are you staring at?" Cid tried to pass off his voice as joking, but he sounded a little concerned.
"I'm...glad we aren't fighting anymore." That seemed like a safe thing to say. Vincent stared intently down at his book for a few moments, hoping that Cid would leave it at that. When he finally glanced over at him, Cid was still staring at him with a thoughtful expression.
"Yeah..." Cid's tone was questioning, begging Vincent to continue, to explain himself. Vincent struggled with the decision inwardly, then finally stood, startling Cid into standing up with him.
"I can't read any more of this...I'm going to head back now and see if I can type this up after all..." Vincent looked over at Cid, who was still staring at him, now in almost an analyzing fashion.
"Want to come with me?"
"No, I'd rather stay here and #%&$ the classics." Cid rolled his eyes as he picked up the book Vincent had left on the table. "#&*#in' A I'm comin' with you. Came this far, haven't I?"
Vincent smiled and took the book from Cid's hand. "Yes...you have come this far."
It was no surprise to either of them that when they returned to Vincent's room, Cloud was not present. He rarely ever was present. Vincent wondered briefly about where his spiky haired roommate could be, but then focused on something else. It wasn't any of business and it wasn't as if Cloud concerned himself with Vincent's affairs anyway.
That was how they both preferred it.
Vincent closed the door behind him, listening to Cid find his way over to his bed with little trouble. His metallic claw lingered over the light switch for a moment, then on an impulse he decided to leave the room in the dark.
"No light? #$&# Vin, they really are going to think you're a $&#&in' vampire reject."
Vincent made his way to his computer and moved the mouse. The room soon illuminated with the monitor's light as he sat down.
"I'm not a vampire."
"Yeah I know, y'ain't got the hair for it." Cid was reclining on Vincent's bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arms behind his head. Vincent glanced over at him before he opened one of his older essay files. As he deleted unnecessary text, keeping the formatted header page, he ventured a response in a soft voice.
"The hair?"
"Yeah." Cid turned towards him, leaning on one elbow. "#$&#, don't you know anythin' 'bout vampires? They got #$&#in' crazy hair, wear leather, and hang out in old amusement parks."
"Why do I have the feeling this is some kind of bizarre movie reference?" Vincent typed a few words, struggling to get his thoughts in order. He could barely remember the artist's name, much less their motivation behind their artwork.
"Y'never saw it? #$&#, you're no fun." Cid flopped angrily down onto his stomach, turning his head so that he could still look at Vincent while he spoke. "#$&*in' killjoy, that's what you are."
"Yes, killing joy is the only purpose my life has." Vincent rolled his eyes, unintentionally writing several of his words down. He hastily deleted them, replacing them with overly complicated words in hopes of bluffing his way through the paper. "It's the only thing that gives my life any meaning."
"Blah blahdee #$&#in' blah." Cid idly pushed Vincent's pillow onto the floor for no discernible reason. "I can see why you'd want t'off yourself if you live in the #$%&in' dark all the time, Vin."
Vincent looked back at Cid with mild annoyance, turning and throwing the pillow back onto his bed. "It's like the darkness of my soul." He smiled at his own words, adding a slight melodramatic flair to them. "The darkness that pervades my everyday life. I dream of the sweet release of death..."
"Jesus Vin, stop it, it's freakin' me out. #%&#in' glad you don't actually talk like that."
"Oh, I just don't talk like that around you." Vincent typed several sentences he hoped were coherent as he smiled at Cid's reaction. "You don't respect my creative genius."
"That reminds me, where's that...#%&#, um...that little stuffed thing...y'know, the teachers found it when they tossed the room...what was its name...?"
That turned the tables rather quickly. Vincent quickly typed several sentences before giving what he hoped was a confident and haughty reply. "I don't know what you're talking about, Highwind."
"Sure." Cid apparently was satisfied with this and settled down to simply watch Vincent type.
Try as he may, Vincent found it difficult to stretch even his overly inflated and false comparisons into a full-fledged paper. He cursed the fact that he had forgotten about the assignment now that the hour was getting progressively later and coherent thought became more difficult. Staying up late and struggling to write about things he didn't care about were not having a good effect on him.
Cid waited until Vincent stared at the screen for a few minutes without moving. "Done yet?"
His voice was sleepy and somewhat slurred. Vincent looked back at him with a sigh.
"I can't think of anything more to write..."
"Well #$&# it. Jus' go to sleep then. It's not worth it."
"I can't let my grades in this class slip..." Vincent stared at the screen hatefully. "I'm having enough trouble with it as it is."
"#&#$, if your teacher is really as much of a #$&@& as you say she is, it wouldn't #$^#in' matter if you did a good job or not." Cid mumbled. Vincent wondered if Cid knew how much sense that made considering he seemed rather tired.
"I may as well give it my best shot..." Vincent sighed, turning back to the paper reluctantly. He heard Cid mutter something unintelligible before he began typing again.
He worked and reworked his sentences until he felt like if he read the artist's name one more time his head was going to explode. Still he felt unsatisfied and disappointed at his own writing. In disgust he saved the file and closed it, deciding to take Cid's advice and let it be.
When he turned back to his bed, he found that Cid had fallen asleep. This did not particularly surprise him considering how late it was. If Vincent fell asleep directly, he would only get a few hours worth before he had to go to class.
He let his screen blink into his screen saver before standing, rubbing at his eyes with his human hand. He walked over to his bed, reaching out his claw for Cid's shoulder before he paused.
What am I doing...?
He has to go back to his room...
But why? Reno hates him, Cloud's not here...why not let him stay with me?
Because...it's not...I'm not...that's not how...
He didn't have a problem with it before...then again, he was drunk before...
Would he really mind? I mean...I wouldn't even really touch him or anything...it's more for his benefit...he needs his sleep, he stayed up late for me...so this is better for him if he stays here...
But...do I...am I okay with it? Of course I have to be, I suggested it, but...
Vincent stood there for some time, ruminating on the exact nature of his relationship with the short, temperamental blond, before he finally gave up. He kept running into the same impasse, the same conflicting logic and emotion that he could never overcome or explain.
Eventually exhaustion won out. He nudged Cid gently, and he obligingly rolled towards the wall, giving him space. A vague thought crossed Vincent's mind as he settled down on top of his sheets. Why would Cid have such a natural reaction to being nudged that way?
Too tired to give it proper thought, Vincent gave up. Not wanting to disturb Cid by getting underneath the blankets, he curled up, back to back with Cid, and fell asleep quickly.