Soda

By Rin and Court

*~*~*

Court: Let's do this A/N like before, like when we're all talking and we act stupid and stuff and—KEEHHH THAT'S NOT WHAT I WANTED YOU TO PUT.

Rin: But... but... but it's funny...

Court: Um... um... hi.

Rin: WTF you are NOT good at this.

Court: Okay, okay. -_- Yeah, third chaappttterrr.... it's really just apartment life and... stuff.... but it's gonna get good and JOBBY. Yay.

Rin:  Sorry if this seems generic and crap... it gets MUCH more interesting... and LOOK FOR HINTS OF DARK/ANGSTY STUFF TO COME. Especially in the little quotes/song lines/made up things in italics right beneath this...

Court: ...Wow, you were really discreet, there. -_-

Rin: ....Is it just me or are you acting like CIIIIDIDDDDSPIDfhskhg,kj

Court: Whoa. O_O AM I?!? ::Scared now.::

Rin:  Well, I TRY TO BE ALL FUNNY AND CRAZY and you're like "FEH YOU SUX."

Court: ....Zack has his own Coke brand. Yay.

Rin: And. And. Yeah. Have fun reading. ^_^

*~*~*

Tightly hold your hand,


Take a deep breath, give them the finger...


Are you worried that your thoughts are not quite clear...?

*~*~*

3: Fucktard

*~*~*

Zack never wrote any of those checks.

Cid kept on bugging him about paying, but after a while, he just stopped bothering anymore, figuring that it'd take much less energy to just pay off the money himself. Zack was still staying in the junk room, however. Cid kept on bugging him about that too,  but ended up giving up on that as well, or "at least until my vacation, when I'm really not gonna want to be bothered."

For the time being, however, Zack was enjoying his free stay, prolonging it as much as possible by acting like an invalid whenever he could when Cid was around and making the poor apartment-owner feel guilty. Not that the older man ever admitted it, but it kept Zack off the street nonetheless.

In any case, right now Cid was out doing something or another at someplace Zack hadn't figured out. He still didn't know what it was that Cid did all day to meet his monetary needs, but he did know that the blonde man always came back in an irritable mood (even more so than usual), which was only remedied by a cup of tea that he would immediately brew.

Then, he'd go on to stare at the toaster (still in two pieces) that was lying on the messy kitchen counter, mutter to himself that he'd fix it when he wasn't too busy, and then shuffle over to his little workroom. (That "TRESPASS AT YOUR OWN RISK" sign had indeed appeared upon it). He must have gone to bed at like one o'clock or something because Zack went to bed around twelve and by that time Cid hadn't even gone out to get something from the fridge.

Speaking of the fridge...

Zack was now lying on the couch in Cid's apartment while watching some TV show or another, and he suddenly got a craving for some soda – or toilet cleaner, if you will. Making an effort to get to his feet, he then paced to the kitchen, given the sleepy-eyed Bronco (Cid's dog – when Zack had asked why he had named a female dog "Bronco", Cid had responded: "What the hell do you think I am, a dog gynecologist?") a crooked smile before opening the fridge.

"Okay! Time for some Co—" Blink. Not a single red can was present. "No," he moaned, "you've gotta be kidding me." He looked like he was about to burst into tears. Wait... Cid wasn't home, was he? Zack grinned, slamming the refrigerator door and then scrambling for Cid's room. He has to have money in here somewhere. He ransacked the room, and after a rather thorough search, was forced to check Cid's boxer drawer.

Dipping through the piles of undergarments, he finally found a stash of Gil tucked away in a corner. Yanking it, he ran outside of the apartment and down the stairs into the outside Sector.

*~*~*

Ten minutes later. Back on the couch, headphones on, sipping on a Coke, and fresh supply of the coveted glass bottles in the fridge. I wonder when Cid's getting home...

I wonder when Cid's getting home...

As if in answer, the sound of footsteps, the clinking of keys, and the creak of the front door suddenly came from the opposite side of the apartment. Bronco's floppy ears pricking up as her tongue lolled out of her mouth. Soon she was bounding towards a worn-out Cid who actually had a weak smile on his face as he scratched the dog's head.

"No extra work tonight, Bronco," he sighed in relief. The lab responded with a bark and a wag of her tail, and Cid scratched her once more before he walked towards the junk room (also known as Zack's room) to deposit something else, and in the process, saw Zack lounging on the couch.

"You're still here," he said tonelessly.

Zack was enraptured with the show he was watching, despite the fact that he had his headphones on and the actual TV volume muted. The show in question was some cartoon called "Pokeyman" or something where little crack-monkey children ran around and had their oversized Chia-pets fight each other.

...well, the show wasn't really the point. What mattered was that Zack didn't hear or see Cid. Music still blaring as he continued to watch some yellow rat screeching and electrocuting people, he took another gulp of his cola.

Cid frowned, but figured that yanking off his guests' headphones and yelling into his ears wasn't worth the effort. With a sigh of resignation, he made his way over to the kitchen, and like he had said he would a million times before, gingerly picked up the toaster and began inspecting it, turning it over and over in his hands.

"Huh," he grunted, in his own little world as he assessed the damages. "It isn't as bad as I thought, ain't that something."

In good humor now, he laughed, setting the broken pieces down on the table as he walked towards his room. "All I gotta do is buy a new siderunner and weld it all up... Well, good thing I have that stash..."

Zack still wasn't aware of Cid's presence, volume turned unhealthily high on his headphones. However, they weren't turned high enough for him not to hear the yell that came from the other room. He blinked, pausing the CD player as he heard a loud string of curses. Crap... I didn't know he was here... better just act oblivious. He pulled his headphones off for the time being, knowing that trying to ignore him would be a bit too suspicious.

Not that it mattered anyway.

"You MISERABLE little FUCKTARD!!!!!!!" Cid's voice came harsh and hard, as did his hands around Zack's neck. Seemed as if Cid had snuck up behind him...

"Do you KNOW how MUCH I want to EAT some FUCKING TOAST?!?"

"It... wasn't..." he wrenched out of the crazed man's grasp, then giving his head a dog-like shake. He heard his neck crack and winced uncomfortably. "...me." Backing away, his eyes caught sight of the television – the cartoon was gone, replaced by some "Newsflash". He blinked. Well... it might work. "Hey, look!" He snatched the remote and turned the volume up.

Cid blinked at the TV for at least a split second... Then he gave out a war cry and lunged for Zack's vital area once more. Seemed it hadn't worked.

"Gwah!" He fell backwards onto the carpet, landing on his backside. He inched away across the ground. "Hey, it REALLY isn't my fault!" He scrambled into a sitting position, stilling pushing himself away from the blonde.

It seemed as if his unwelcome stay had finally caused something to snap in Cid's brain because Cid then laughed maniacally, in an almost frightening tone, running for the fridge and grabbing both packs of Coke and swinging round the table, under which Bronco was hiding and whimpering. With another "HAHAA" he then ran for the Plexiglas door that led to the small apartment balcony, sliding it open and turning around towards Zack with a mad grin on his face, both of his arms hanging off the balcony's edge with glass-bottle packs in hand.

The minute Zack had seen Cid make that mad dash for the kitchen, he had jumped to his feet and started to run for the kitchen as well, but already Cid was on his way to the balcony. He froze, gaping in utter shock at the sight. Glass bottles – Coke always bested the BEST out of glass bottles. He was quivering. "Y...you wouldn't."

"Oh..." Cid's eyebrow twitched slightly and he leaned back even further. "But I will..."

And then... he just let go.

Zack's eyes widened in full shock; he had never expected him to actually DO it. He raced for the door leading out to the balcony while yelling, "NOOO!", pushing Cid out of the way, and actually leaping over the railing.

"Wait – SHIT." Temporarily in a sane state, Cid whirled around, grabbing one of Zack's ankles with both hands as he sailed past, and causing a rather nasty pang in his abdomen as it was yanked into the railing from the force of Zack's intended fall.

"IDIOT. If I didn't have fucking fast reflexes – it's just soda, dammit!"

Zack was hanging from Cid's grasp limply, both hands outstretched towards the ground where all of the bottles had shattered, spilling all of its contents onto the grass and concrete below. "So... close." He sighed, bending his head in towards his chest as he just hung there. "Ugh... I'm getting a head rush. Pull me up?" He sounded depressed... depressed over soda.

"Fucktard..." Cid grumbled as he gave out a grunt and began hauling Zack back onto the balcony. Finally, with one last heave, he pulled both of their weights over the railing and in the process, caused both of them to lose their precarious balance and topple over onto the floor on top of each other.

"Uwah!" Zack yelped as he was pulled on top of Cid. He blinked, somehow having landed in a position so that Cid was pinned to the floor. Still upset about the soda, he quickly jumped to his feet and headed back into the apartment rather red-faced, mumbling something about Cid not knowing his own strength. He slumped back down onto the couch. "Hey, this newsflash is still going?" he asked in annoyance, leaning forward to see what it was all about. "Shin-Ra wages dropped?" He became rigid for a moment, then barked out a laugh and said, "Sucks for them." He then started flipping through more "interesting" channels.

"Huh?" Cid was in the process of closing the balcony door and turned around a moment too late to see the announcement. As he saw the television viewscreen flicker with each change of the station, he was reminded of something he had discovered the day before in the mail. His eyes narrowed.

"You need to leave."

The words didn't register immediately, but soon enough Zack looked over his shoulder at Cid with a bewildered expression. "Ehh? Wh-what? Why? Ciddy, I couldn't bear to leave you now! We've gotten so close..." He was now on his feet, standing in front of Cid with hands clasped together pleadingly. "What made you say that all of a sudden, anyway?"

"Got the cable bill," Cid muttered, shuffling over to the kitchen table and snatching a paper from it. He turned towards Zack and outstretched his hand, shoving the paper in Zack's face.

"Take a look," he grounded between his teeth. "Don't be shy."

Blink. Standing face to face with the paper, his cobalt eyes ran over the amounts, channels, totals, and the eventual amount circled in red at the bottom. "It's not... that bad," he stated.

Cid was silent for a moment.

Then another page dropped down from the first.

"Ohh. Eh, ahem... well... still... not that..."

Another page.

"Eh heh heh. Okay, maybe that's—"

Another.

And another.

"Keep in mind this bill is for this month," Cid said calmly. "You've only been here a week."

".........can't you see I'm frail?!" He fell back onto the couch, as if he was suddenly feeling faint.

"Well, then, I guess you will be staying here long enough to help me pay off those debts, plus the ones you still owe..." Cid grated, leaning forward over the back of the couch and glaring down at the indolent youth.

"Eh-heh-heh." He gave Cid a toothy grin before jumping to his feet and bolting for the door.

"Not so frail anymore, are you?!" Cid gave out a yell, chasing Zack and grabbing him by the back of his shirt as he neared the exit. "I swear, kid, if you don't PAY, I'm gonna make you sorry..."

"Okay, okay, I'll pay! I'm get a job, do everything right, and even watch less TV"—the idea of drinking less Coke wasn't even allowed to form in his mind—"just please let me STAY!" He was in good enough health to return home, but he had his reasons for not wanting to. Silence set in, allowing the television to become audible.

"In other news, it seems as if Shin-Ra is dropping the wages of its workers by 25% per payday," a woman's professional voice came. "It seems as if maintenance costs for the reactors have soared—"

"WHAT?!" Cid exclaimed, his head swinging towards the TV as he threw Zack to the floor. In a moment, he had situated himself in the middle of the couch, staring in disbelief at the screen.

Zack was crumpled on the ground – he lifted himself up into a sitting position, hand pressed against his head and one eye winced closed in pain. "Oww..." He raised his voice so that Cid could hear him, not wanting to make an effort to get up yet. "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?! You work for Shin-Ra or something?!"

"Who else is there to work for?!" Cid retorted with a surprisingly bitter snarl. "And where the hell do you think this came from?" With his thumb he pulled out the dog tab on his chain as far as he could towards Zack, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

He gave him a blink from across the room. "Ohhh... you one of those army buffs, then?" he asked, brushing some stray strands of hair away from his face. He slowly started to get to his feet and head across the room, over to the TV... and Cid. To put it lightly, he was reluctant.

"Air force," Cid corrected Zack with a grunt. He put his white-socked feet up on the coffee table between the TV and the couch – or more like on top of the old magazines that were layered upon it – and crossed his legs as he casually stretched his arms above his head and brought them back down again. "Used to be, at least... Now I'm in the 31st reserves—"he glanced up towards Zack. "—those are the ones they use when they're real desperate. I'm in Engineering, helping design their planes and cars and all that shit."

"Hmm... I would never have guessed. I've never had anything to do with Shin-Ra and I STILL don't like 'em." He collapsed into one of the arm-chairs, watching the TV that had returned to normal viewing with a mild interest. "Guess that's why there's always stray engine parts and stuff around here, huh?" He gave a soft laugh. It was hard to keep a straight face after the big old lie he just told.

Wait a second...

"THAT'S why the name Highwind sounded familiar!" He gave a snap of his fingers as he figured it out. "I knew it rang a bell the first time I heard it. You were pretty famous in the Wutaian war, weren't ya'?"

"Uh?" Cid had been closing his eyes for a moment, but now he opened them again to blink at Zack. "Famous...? Heh." He looked away wryly, a bit of a cryptic smile on his face. "Nothing I did that's worth all those fucking medals they gave me..." In a lower tone, he added, "It's Shin-Ra, after all..."

"Hmm. Well, I guess that's all over and done with now, huh? So what now?" He wished he hadn't said he would do all those things earlier when Cid had been on the point of strangling him; if only the newsflash had been heard just a little earlier, there wouldn't be all these promises weighing him down. "I guess I have to get a job now," he muttered, almost hoping Cid didn't overhear.

Cid seemed glad Zack hadn't decided to dwell on the subject of war; instead, he pounced on his new opportunity to badger him about paying up.

"Yeah!" He yelled, glaring at the kid who he still didn't consider more than a "sad wuss-ass punk." Obviously, he had a good ear for mutterings and other such things. "Go check the classified section in the paper or something... sometimes they have half-decent job openings there."

"Fine," Zack grumbled to himself, standing to his feet and heading over to the kitchen where the newspaper was usually scattered. He started to flip through the stray pieces of The Daily Midgar. After a few minutes of searching he found the classified section and started reading over it as he walked back to the living room. "Hmm... let's see. Gardener... wait, there aren't even any gardens here! Well, there's..." He stopped himself, standing in the hallway as he watched Cid staring at the television, flipping through channels, (probably to get his mind off of the budget deficits), and grumbling when he saw that the only things on other than the newsflash were court shows and Spanish soap operas. He had already become completely oblivious of Zack's searching (probably on purpose.)

Zack sighed softly, closing his eyes for a moment. I wonder if she's back now...? No... I shouldn't even bother. I'll just... stay here. "Ehh... what else.. shop assistant. Ew... I can not picture myself sorting bottles of Potions for a living." He took back his seat in the armchair. "Assistant Editor for the Sunday Inquirer? Heyyyy... that sounds pretty interesting! Whatcha' think, Cid?" He gave him a perky, 'aren't you proud of me for doing what I was told?' smile.

"Huh?" Zack began to wonder if one-syllable grunts were Cid's trademark or something. (After all, Cid was one of the shortest names he'd seen thus far in his life... except for maybe Ed.) Cid turned around to face him, his face visible from over the back of the couch. He frowned. "Kid.... do you really think you have the qualifications for that kind of job....?" Zack could tell that Cid was trying his best to hold in a laugh.

His eyes narrowed as he glared in Cid's general direction. "Heeeey..." Giving an indignant grunt, he tossed the paper into Cid's lap. "You find something in that stupid paper, then! There's nothing good." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look annoyed as he watched the television. Some man was saying something in an overly exaggerated 'sexy' voice. Something like 'Kiero ser soo AMORADOR, NEENYA.'

"Eh?" There was the grunt again as Cid caught the paper and opened it up, running his eyes down the possible jobs. After a few minutes, he gave out a growl and threw the paper over his shoulder with enough force so that when it accidentally hit Zack in the back of the head (he was now sitting at the kitchen table eating his breakfast since the soap opera had lost his interest rather swiftly), it caused his head to plunge into his bowl of cereal.

He quickly emerged his head of black, Lucky Charms-infested hair from the bowl, milk dripping from strands of hair onto the table. ".........." He grabbed the paper and looked at it for a moment before standing from the chair and walking over to get some paper towels to clean himself up. He then paced over to Cid in the living room at gave him an exanimate look. "... told you so." He whacked him on the back of his shiny blonde head and then headed for his room, or the junk room, rather, to do god-knows-what.

"OW!" Cid yelped, instinctively jerking forward, his head between his legs as he clutched his hands to the back of his head. After a moment of the pain fading away, he whipped his head up, his hands still on it as he glared murder at Zack once more, a grimace on his face. The Fucktard hit hard.

"What the fuck was THAT FOR?!?!?!"

Zack had already stepped into the junk room, but he stuck his head out of the doorway for a moment with a grin on his face. "'Cause you hit me with that paper! Just payin' ya back." He winked, acting perfectly harmless (though Cid knew the truth, the proof still lingering on the back of his head) as he ducked his head back into the junk room and went to fall onto the cot with a loud squeak. "Hmm..." He watched the ceiling fan circling over his head, almost hypnotizing, and quickly closed his eyes in a fear of getting too dizzy.

Meanwhile, Cid was still grumbling to himself from the couch, staring at the TV. He had circled through the channels, now getting back at the newsbreak, which was now reporting how hundreds of workers in Shin-Ra were going on strike in light of the new pay cuts. He arched an eyebrow, wincing when it caused his newly acquired headache to give him a pang. Maybe I should go out and picket too... He contemplated the idea for a moment, but then immediately rejected it at the thought of losing his apartment. His landlady was always looking for an excuse to throw him out on the street...

With all the free spaces, Shin-Ra's gonna have a field day, Cid sighed, closing his eyes (maybe he should take a nap.) Jesus, maybe quittin' would be worth it, just to skip all the resumes and paperwork I'm gonna have to plow through... Shit. He felt like doing something to alleviate his stress, but he didn't really know what. He opened his eyes again, watching as a reporter interviewed one of Shin-Ra's ex-employees.

Wait.

That was it

That was the answer.

And then, Cid smiled. Very evilly.

*~*~*

TO BE CONTINUADO A EL DORADO. Or something. Yeah.