Ch. 12

Oh, wow. 12 chapters, and I'm still not done! Is anyone tired of this fic? Is it going on too long? Remember back in Chapter 9 when I claimed I was almost done? Why do I tell so many lies? (sigh) Well, I hope I still have some readers, because I'm having a blast writing this thing. It's just so much fun to put my favorite video game characters in such odd situations, especially Vincent :) And since summer's finally here does a stupid little dance and I've finally graduated from that hellhole disguised as a school, I may just update this thing more than once every blue moon! Oh, you lucky people! Anyhow, I hope this ridiculous little story is still well liked, and I thank you for reading it. Now, on with the show!

No less than 30 minutes into the night, the boys were feeling the full effects of their alcohol. Cid was chattering on and on about his Highwind, the Tiny Bronco, and other machines that only he really cared about. Cloud was telling jokes that he'd heard from his time training to be in SOLDIER that were suddenly much funnier to him (and everyone else) now that he had a substantial amount of alcohol in his blood. Barret was laughing heartily at everything anyone had to say, and Vincent was sitting quietly, listening to them all, and contemplating the situation at hand. He would snicker unexpectedly now and then at one of Cloud's stupid jokes, much to his surprise, as well as everyone else's. Then he would sit quietly, remembering the whole reason why he was sitting there getting drunk with everyone, and suddenly turn introspective.

'How are we going to do this?' he wondered. 'Are they all drunk enough? Maybe a few more shots of whiskey…'

"I mean, if ya wanted to get that baby really going, if could fly at 500 mph like a bat out of hell. No shit, I'm telling you…"

"So a pirate walks into a bar, and the barkeep notices the pirate's got a steering wheel in his pants…"

"Hehehe!"

"… and he asks him, 'why you got a steering wheel in your pants?' The pirate says, 'Aarrgh! It's drivin' me nuts!"

"Bwahahaha!"

Yes, maybe a few more shots would be a good idea, but not too many. Vincent ordered another round for everyone, but decided to keep his own to slowly sip on. Cid, Cloud, and Barret downed theirs before Cloud noticed that Vincent hadn't slammed his back with the rest of them.

"Hey, Vin my man," Cloud slurred as he leaned ungainly across the bar at Vincent. "Whatcha doin'? Yer not done yet, are ya?"

Barret and Cid looked over at Vincent expectantly, waiting for him to gulp down his drink. Vincent gave Cid a 'help me out here' look, which was met by a very drunk Cid giving a blank stare. And then,

"Yeah, Vinny. Ya ain't wussin' out yet, are ya?" Vincent rolled his eyes, feeling the night's plan slip away beyond all hopes of salvation.

"Maybe he needs blood, not whiskey. Hehehe!" Barret quipped, and the other two laughed as though that were the funniest thing they had ever heard. Vincent shifted in his seat, hoping that perhaps something shiny across the room would distract their attention away from him. No such luck.

"Come on Vin! Do it, do it, do it!" Cloud yelled, slamming his hand down on the bar repeatedly. A few heads began to turn in their direction, which caused Barret to shush Cloud, quite loudly, in between spastic giggles. Cid, being Cid, started to join Cloud's yelling and fist slamming. The barkeep looked up with an annoyed look on his face, and Vincent wondered if he shouldn't just allow him to kick them out of the bar. Instead, he succumbed to the ridiculous pressure, and without a word slammed the shot glass of whiskey back. Cid and Cloud cheered loudly, and Barret continued to shush them and giggle like a little kid.

"If we're not more quiet, we're going to get kicked outta' here," Vincent warned, his speech beginning to slur.

"Awww," Cid whined, as he puckered out his lower lip. Barret and Cloud laughed.

"I'm serious," Vincent replied, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh himself. That last shot had gone straight to his head.

"They ain't gonna do shi't," Barret said waving his hand, as though to dismiss the very idea. "They gonna see this here gun arm, and they ain't gonna do shi't. They gonna see your claw, Vinny, and they ain't gonna do shi't. They gonna see this cracka's Mako eyes, and you know what they gonna do?"

"They ain't gonna do shit," Cloud chimed in. He and Barret gave each other a clumsy high five.

Vincent smirked. "Perhaps, but what about Cid? He'll be kicked outta here in no time."

Cid flipped off Vincent. "Bull shit! I look tough enough. They ain't gonna do shit to me either," he replied, satisfied.

"Oh right, they're going to see this old, washed up, haggard pilot and shiver in their boots," Cloud shot back sarcastically.

"Damn right! They'll know better than to fuck with ol' Highwind," Cid said confidently. "Cause' you know what they'll do?" He went on, leaning across the bar as though he were about to reveal the secrets of the universe to his drinking buddies. The other three leaned in, eager to hear. "They'll see these eyes," Cid pointed to his eyes, darting his finger back and forth in front of them. "They'll see these hardened ol' eyes, and they'll shiver…with fear." He leaned back knowingly, with a satisfied nod and took a drag from his cigarette. The other three leaned back and looked at each other silently. Then, in unison, all three began to bust up, laughing hysterically - even Vincent.

"What?!" Cid demanded angrily. "I'm tough, goddammit!" That only made the other three laugh more. Cid glared furiously at his drinking "buddies" then slammed his fist down on the bar. "Awlright then! If any one of ya' is as tough as you say you are, then let's see who can drink who under the damn table!" Vincent suddenly stopped laughing. This was getting out of control a little too quickly.

"Cid, I don't think that's a very good-"

"Awww, shut up, Valentine! With a name like that, and hair that long, ya' oughta be protecting yer manhood with all ya' got! Yer pretty enough to even look like a woman! In that dress you were wearin' and that makeup a few days ago-"

"Cid, keep your mouth sh-"

"Wait, what? You were in drag?! Vincent?! Vincent Valentine?! King Creepy?! Mr. Oh My Goth?! In drag?! Bwahahahahaha!" This intelligent statement was provided by Cloud.

"What you laughin' at, cracka'? You dressed in drag too! You even let that don hit on you! Your spiky ass ain't got no room to talk!" Barret reminded Cloud, shaking his gun arm at him the whole time.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," Cloud replied a bit grumpily. Barret turned to Vincent, and asked rather innocently (sounding a bit too interested), "So what's it like to wear women's clothing?"

"Errrm…"

"It's embarrassing, that's what it's like," Cloud answered for him. "Everyone staring at your ass and your breasts," Cloud crossed his arms over his chest protectively. "I mean, you feel like a piece of meat…Men are such dogs…."

"That's why I'm tryin' to understand, you know," Barret chimed in. "I mean, really, what's it like to be a woman?"

"Who's going to drink with me and prove their fuckin' manhood?!" Cid demanded once more.

"Don't be such a pig, Cid," Cloud yelled back.

"Yeah, I ain't gotta prove shi't to no one." Barret proclaimed triumphantly.

"Awww, to hell with allaya!" Cid slammed back a few more shots.

It was silent for some time amongst the group, a silence which Vincent was honestly thankful for. Now that the three men (excluding Cid) had decided that men were all dogs, Vincent wondered how the subject of Tifa's breasts would ever be brought up. And since his mind was feeling quite fuzzy due to the alcohol, any hopes of coming up with a feasible plan seemed to circle the drain. Cid was still experiencing an impressive memory lapse even for a drunk person, as to why they were there drinking in the first place. Vincent decided this was probably a good thing, considering that a drunk Cid would probably botch things up even worse than a sober Cid.

"Vincent?" Cloud suddenly asked, interrupting Vincent's reverie.

"Yes?" Vincent replied.

"Why were you dressed as a woman?"

"Errrrm…"

"Holy Shit!" Cid suddenly yelled. The pilot jumped up from his barstool, and nearly onto his backside. He gave Vincent an astonished look, to which Vincent replied with a confused, arched eyebrow.

"I just remembered somethin'! Ummm…" Cid looked around the room as if to look for some sort of distraction. Finally, he grabbed Vincent by the arm and pulled him up.

"I've gotta go to bathroom!" Cid declared. "Vincent hasta' go to the bathroom too!" With that he pulled a confused Vincent violently towards the direction of the men's room, leaving an even more confused Barret and Cloud at the bar.

"That's so weird," Cloud said, looking wide-eyed at Barett.

"What?" Barret asked.

"How did Cid know that Vincent had to go to the bathroom? He didn't even say anything!" Cloud threw his arms up in the air, exasperated, too drunk, and impressed with Cid.

"Yeah…" Barret said. "And ya' know what's even spookier? They had to go at the same time." The two stared at each other in wonderment for a while, and then ordered two drinks.

Meanwhile, over at the men's room…

"Cid, I'm already missing one of my original arms, so please don't rip this one out," Vincent slurred as Cid roughly dragged him into the men's room. The two of them were stumbling a bit, and Vincent had groaned at the sudden realization of just how drunk he was when he was jerked so suddenly from of his seat. Cid on the other hand, was enjoying his drunkeness, and was all too sorry that it hadn't occured under different circumstances. But oh, the circumstances!

"Now Vinny, listen to me," Cid began. He whirled around to face Vincent, only a little too quickly. He slowly teetered forward into Vincent, who in turn began to teeter backwards. Thankfully, a wall was there to save the two from falling over completely onto each other. Cid steadied himself, slowly and carefully, bracing on Vincent's shoulder, which he found to be a good enough crutch to cling to as he stood. Vincent leaned limply against the wall.

"Now, listen," Cid repeated, shoving a pointed finger clumsily into Vincent's face, which somehow found itself roughly into one of Vincent's nostrils.

"What the hell?" Vincent muttered, scrunching his face up in an annoyed and somewhat confused expression as he swiped at the offending finger. Cid cursed and wiped his finger disgustedly on Vincent's red cloak before continuing.

"Now listen," he repeated yet again. "Ya' know, we're here for a reason, not to just sit around and get wasted, Valentine. We're on a mission. You should take it easy on the booze, ya' know."

Vincent looked offended. "I should take it easy on the booze?" He glared indignantly at the pilot, who was still bracing his teetering body on his shoulder. "I'm not the one who was demanding that everyone drink more and more to 'prove their manhood." With the last statement, Vincent deepened his voice to a ridiculous note and pounded his fist like a caveman on his chest. Cid snickered, realizing how 'un-Vincent' Vincent's mannerisms were when drunk. Vincent continued.

"And then, you and Cloud start beating yer fists on the bar and yelling at me to drink more-"

"Yer voice sounds funny when yer drunk, hehe..."

"Shuddup. And then you bring up the whole dressing like a woman ordeal. I can't believe you brought that up!" Vincent slapped his forehead dramatically at the reminder. Cid kept snickering.

"Oh, they'll forget about that. Man, you really can't hold yer alcohol..."

"Shut up! Now what're we gonna do? I don't know if we can pull this off in our present states," Vincent threw his arms up in the air, and nearly knocked Cid off of him and onto the floor. Cid just shook his head.

"Well, maybe yer too trashed to know yer head from yer ass-"

"A problem I'm sure yer familiar with, sober or drunk," Vincent added, angry at the implications of tonight's alcohol intake. Cid ignored him.

"-but I know how to handle this. Before ya' know it, Cloud will spill the beans, and the truth behind Tifa's puppies will be revealed! Hahahahaha!" Cid laughed sinisterly.

"Why the hell do you call them puppies?" Vincent asked, irritated. Cid ignored him, and dragged him back to the bar where their drinking buddies awaited.

Back at the bar, Barret and Cloud had already ordered themselves more drinks, as well as drinks for Cid and Vincent by the time the two had come back. Cid plopped back onto his bar stool, and Vincent slowly eased back onto his. He pretended to not notice the drink before him, but Cloud shoved it practically right into his face.

"Here," Cloud said. "It's called a Costa Del Sol Ice Tea. They're really good. I got one for you too, Cid." With that, Cloud began to slurp on his own drink. Vincent sighed. He remembered Costa Del Sol Ice Teas from way back when he was a Turk. They were especially popular with people that had highly stressful jobs, such as the Turks, due to the fact that nearly every hard liquor under the sun made up its contents. Vincent had had them a few times, and one was enough to get anyone good and drunk. Still, he decided that since it was a mixed drink, he could pretend to sip it slowly and allow some of the earlier effects of the alchol he had drank wear off. That would have been hard to do with a shot of whiskey. He looked over at Cid, hoping that he had figured this our himself, but instead, to Vincent's horror, the pilot had accepted the drink gleefully and had already gulped down about a quarter of the drink. Vincent mentally slapped his forehead, and kicked Cid in the shin beaneath the table. Cid looked around, and asked, "Didjyou kick me, Vinny? I coulda swore I felt summthin'..." Vincent clenched his fist, holding back the raging urge to start a barroom brawl with the stupid pilot. He heaved a sigh. It looked like the rest of the night was in his hands after all.