Soda

by Court & Rin

*~*~*

A/N: IT LIVES!

*~*~*

Waking up from this nightmare
How's your life, what's it like there?
Is it all what you want it to be?
Does it hurt when you think about me?
And how broken my heart is.

Take you away from that empty apartment,
You stay and forget where the heart is,
Someday if ever you love me you'd say it's okay.

*~*~*

8: Tangos and Trash

*~*~*

Afternoons usually spelled out boredom for Zack and after a while just watching TV, listening to music, playing Solitaire, and drinking Coke got a little old. Wait, scratch that. Drinking Coke never got old. But some of the other stuff was turning a bit dry. And so he actually gathered up the bravery to try and clean some of Cid's apartment. Well, more specifically, the junk room. The hell hole he was forced to sleep in.

However, he hadn't gotten very far with that, mainly because he got distracted by all of the weird crap that was in there and that he kept finding. Who knew how much stuff could be stored in one room? One finding in particular had administered quite a bit of curiosity. It seemed just to be a rather long stick, made of wood or plastic, maybe? He stared at it in amazement for a few moments, trying to figure out what it was and what it was used for, before he got a better idea. Why try and waste time thinking about it when he could just...

"CIIIIID!" He burst out of the junk room in a cascade of dust that had accumulated from him throwing stuff around so much in it while 'cleaning', and then he quickly ran over to the living room, where Cid seemed to be amusing himself some way or another.

"Whose is this?"

"Uh?" Cid looked up from the TV to Zack, his fingers (and grungy nails) held suspiciously close to his mouth before he whipped his hand down to the seat of the couch. Luckily, he didn't need to make an excuse for whatever he'd been doing, as he immediately saw the stick and furrowed his eyebrows. "Hey---what're you doing with that?!"

Zack would have normally been curious about Cid's strange antics, but for now he was too enraptured with this... stick. Not to mention the fact that Cid seemed rather... uppity about it. "I found it in the junk room. It's yours?"

"Well, YES-DEE-FUCKING-DUH," Cid stood up, grabbing for the wooden object as he walked around the couch to where Zack was standing. "This still is my apartment, you know..."

The midnight-haired boy's eyes narrowed in frustration as the pilot took away the item that had intrigued him so. He had thought he had some sort of claim towards it since he had been the one to rescue it from the bowels of the junk room. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "Well, whatever. What is it, then?"

"It's...." Cid looked down at the stick, running his fingers up and down its length as his face calmed almost nostalgically. "For training. A training..... stick."

Could one really blame Zack for having to stifle a burst of laughter at the scene before him? Yes, his mind was in the gutter quite a bit, but that in of itself was so obvious. The sexual connotations coupled with the dorky sound of 'a training stick' was just too much. He couldn't restrain himself. He chuckled a bit, hand pulled to his mouth quickly to try and make sure he didn't get into fits of laughter, and he just hoped that Cid didn't go into a tirade over it.

Yet somehow he doubted that.

The calm expression left Cid's face and was replaced by a wounded glare. "You said you wanted to know!!! What's your problem?!" He took a step back, and quite skillfully, twirled the stick so that he could rest his elbows on it behind his back. (Skillfully, maybe, but not gracefully; he hit the wall in the narrow hallway and made a nick in it in the process.)

Luckily, Zack was able to calm himself down soon after that, so that Cid didn't have his pride kicked in for very much longer. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... don't worry about it." He would have loved to make a comment about his grace, but he didn't want to start giggling again. It was best to get away while he was ahead. And so he quickly walked off and removed himself back into the junk room. He could laugh about Cid's compensation in there as much as he wanted to.

After all.... it was quite a big stick....

Cid was left to blink dumbly and then bring the stick forward again, looking at it rather dully. He had been neglecting his little weapon hobby of his lately, and from the nick that now sat on the wall, he was kinda rusty.....

He made for his bedroom, determined now to practice a little, but before he did, he smiled at the stick itself and said cheerfully, "We can have some fun in there!"

Good thing Zack wasn't there, or Cid would have probably had to call the paramedics.

*~*~*

The whole cleaning thing had certainly not lasted long, and the next day Zack was back on the couch, staring at the television with a somewhat blank expression. He was still bored, that was for sure, but he preferred just sitting around like a lump than trying to put effort into something.

It was one of those rare afternoons when Cid was around the entire time, not off working or out doing something or getting something, and yet the two of them were having near-to-no interaction. Mainly because Cid was too busy working and Zack was too busy not working. Even when the pilot had nothing to do, he still managed to find a way to do some form of work, holed up in the room with that no trespassing sign so lovingly slapped on the front of it.

Zack sorta got the feeling that Cid didn't want to talk to him much after that whole incident on Sunday night at the party, but Zack really just thought he was being stupid about it. It's not like anything happened. But whatever, he wasn't going to make an effort to bother him.

Yet.

After a couple hours of Zack's laziness, Cid seemed to finally make his way out of the work room, disheveled and exhausted-looking, like he always was whenever he had put a bunch of labor into something that hadn't turned out the way it was supposed to in the end. Zack vaguely heard the sound of Cid's feet padding on the linoleum of the kitchen, the fridge opening, and the sound of a can of beer being snapped open. Soon, Cid had made his way to the living area, and to Zack's surprise, sat down on the couch where he was--albeit on the opposite side.

A bit wary, Zack eyed him cautiously before he decided to speak. It was best he started with a nice easy subject of conversation, not something that was going to get Cid edgy too fast. "So... what were you working on in there, anyways?" That seemed tame enough, didn't it?

Cid looked towards Zack dubiously, arching an eyebrow before his eyes went back to the screen. He took a sip of his drink and sighed, leaning back casually and putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Blueprints... writing up plans... primary stuff. If it wasn't, I'd have grease all over me. Hands are dirty as it is..." He grumbled, holding up a hand and blinking at the side of it. It was covered in black smudging of graphite from whatever pencil he'd been using.

Zack, surprisingly enough, listened rather attentively to what Cid had to say. Usually his attention was ripped away from something on the television (a Coke ad, some half-naked woman...), but he was doing his utmost best to seem as friendly as he could. "Ohhh... Well, did you make any sort of progress?" Zack wasn't entirely sure what it was that Cid was working on, but that seemed a general enough question to ask him. His eyes darted back to the TV for a moment, only to see that a Spanish soap opera was on. Well, these were always fun...

Slowly he started to pay more and more attention to that and less to Cid. Two of the people on the said show started dancing the tango, and for an overenthusiastic Zack, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"OH man, the tango is SUCH a fun dance!" he ejaculated, even springing up a little. "Have you ever danced it, Cid?" It was only until after this little exclamation that he realized that bringing up dancing might not have been the best idea after what had happened only a few days ago.

Cid started a bit but didn't look away from the TV. "Um.... Not really, no...." The man was twirling his dance partner into his arms and leaning in close to her, much like Zack had done to the green-eyed girl of the party. The blonde shifted his weight uncomfortably, and there was an awkward silence.

The unease in Cid's tone and manner was not missed by the younger one, but he decided not to make a point of it so that it didn't make things worse. Zack was beginning to realize that if he wanted to get on his roommate's good side, he needed to stop teasing him for once. But it was so tempting...

Well, he'd refrain for now, anyways. "Oh man, I gotta teach you! It's so much fun!" He was rather excited by the idea now, and was quite serious, too. That was the scary thing.

"Wha?!" Cid exclaimed, looking towards his roommate with wide eyes. "Why the hell would I---? And where---?" He stared for several seconds before relaxing back into his seat with a disgruntled look on his face. "You're fuckin' crazy...."

Cid's little hissy fit didn't seem to phase Zack for one second as he was now on his feet, examining the furniture that was in the living room with a critical eye, one hand resting under his chin. "Yeah, this space should be big enough! We just need to move the table, couch, and these chairs over..." As he explained, he started for one of the armchairs, intent on pushing it back to the walls to make enough space for a dancing lesson.

And unrelaxed Cid was again, jittery on his feet and his eyes darting left and right. "N----NO!!!!" He shouted, throwing himself into his favorite armchair (an old, tattered, sad-looking thing) and gripping it by the armrests protectively. "What the hell d'you think you're doin', rearranging MY home?!?"

The dive Cid made into the chair from the couch was quite impressive. Zack could see why he was a pilot, considering he could fly about five feet without a plane, and so he really couldn't help a smile tinging his lips, despite the fact that Cid was getting in the way of a man and his dream. And so soon the smile was chased away and replaced with a growl.

"Look, Cid, it'll be great!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up with fervor. "I'll be a great teacher. Believe me, I've danced everything... the mamba, the twist, I've done swing dance, waltzes, slow dances, the TANGO, and just about everything else. I've danced with old the young, the pretty, the gorgeous, the sexy, men and women alike... really, you're in good hands!" He frowned, imitating a cop, "So just step away from the chair--- and grinned ---and let me move it, 'kay?"

Cid stared at Zack dubiously after the youth's bout of long listing and scowled, a disgruntled expression on his frustrated features. "No. Way. In. Hell. Do you understand me?! He glared, shaking his finger angrily at Zack. "I don't really give a fuck whether or not I can dance some stupid dance, and I won't take directions from some bitchy little whiny fucktard like----------

Wait.

"You say you've danced with MEN?!" Cid suddenly exclaimed, jumping to his feet from out of the sanctuary of his seat, eyes wide as dinner plates and his hands gripping the arms of the chair with the same force as before.

The younger one had been preparing to argue his rather legitimate point, but instead he now found himself taking a short step back, as if the loud exclamation was something being shot at him. However, a smile soon formed on his handsome features. "Um, yeaah."

This was kind of ridiculous. Cid hadn't noticed that he enjoyed the pleasure of both sexes? His off-hand comments and teasings had been a treasure trove of clues, he had thought, and yet the blonde seemed to have been completely oblivious to the entire situation. With a hand on his hip, he regarded the man with skepticism. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Know what?!" The blonde snapped back, his eyes following the change from bewilderment to amusement in Zack's face. He felt confused and aggravated at the same time, but first and foremost, awkward, as if he'd waved at a complete stranger by mistake and then subsequently found that he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk with only his boxers on while trying to sing the Shin-Ra Air Force hymn. If that made any fucking sense....

"You know, that I'm bi. Bisexual. Do I need to elaborate more?" He paced closer to the man, hands then placed on his thighs as his knees bent slightly so he could be on a more face-to-face level with Cid, who was now sitting back in his precious armchair and jerked his head back slightly from Zack's being in such close proximity. "I like females and males, I swing both ways." He could have gone on for eons if the other had permitted such.

Cid stared blankly for a few long seconds, vaguely noticing that the couple on the TV had stopped dancing and that the crowd had broken into claps and cheers. He grinned wryly. "If you think you're being funny, kid, I'd hafta say you're sadly mistaken."

Oh, so he thinks it's a joke. And Zack hadn't even been trying to hide it; then again, his utter openness with all of the women at the party may have convinced him that he was entirely straight, when he really just avoided the male race because it would have caused too many problems, and may have gotten Cid in trouble with his boss -- something Zack hadn't wanted to risk, considering he'd get the brunt of Cid's anger for causing the problem.

But he had to straighten out this misunderstanding, and so his smile transformed into a more sinister smirk as his hands left his legs and he leaned forward, said palms placed over Cid's lower arms which were still clutching tightly at the armrests. He pulled his face within inches of the other, staring into his wrathful (and somewhat scared) blue eyes and then asked softly, eyebrows raised seductively, "Would you like me to prove it to you?"

Cid blinked dumbly for a moment, until the warmth of Zack's hands on his arms and his breath on his face made him realize the insinuations of what his roommate was saying. He froze. The cloth of the chair's arms was suddenly damp with the clamminess emanated from his hands, which were suddenly very numb. Time seemed to stand still. He felt his breathing quickening as his heart seemed to come at a standstill in his chest. Zack's unnaturally bright cerulean eyes seemed to be coming closer and closer, twin oceans of beauty, and-----

"BAAAATTTMAAANNNN!!!! NANANANANANANANAAAA BAATTTTMAAANNNNNN!!!!!!!"

Cid jumped up in shock, knocking Zack over and onto to the floor as he did so, and he stood, breathing hard and erratically for a moment before regaining his bearings, his face transforming into a mask of hell as he whirled towards the front door and began to yell.

"DAMN KIDS!!!!!!!!!!" He roared in fury, feet pounding on the creaky flooring as he ran to the front door and slammed it open, revealing the Terrible Twins outside; one of them was dressed in a cape and mask while the other had dabbled clown makeup upon their visage crudely. It was hard to tell which was Kailey and which was Kevie. "Could you stop being so damn LOUD?!?!"

Zack laid on the floor for a moment, blinking at the ceiling that was still turning to-and-fro in his dizzy eyes. Finally, he picked himself up, grumbling something and rubbing his painfully sore head. He had been itching to see Cid's reaction to his little display, and yet again something had caused a distraction. However, the Batman jingle being bellowed horribly off-key during such an intense moment was pretty amusing, as much as Cid felt like he needed to be annoyed by the two children.

Rubbing at his lower back, which had also broken his fall, Zack padded over to the door where Cid was standing, barking out at the kids. He came to his side, peering with quite a bit of ease (Cid was pretty short compared to him, after all) over his shoulder at the two.

"You guys look awesome in those costumes, but would you mind playing somewhere else?" he asked them sweetly, resting his hands lightly on Cid's angrily heaving shoulders. "You see, he's feeling a little under the weather and was trying to get some rest, so I'd appreciate it if you guys found another floor to play on, 'kay?"

Whichever one that was dressed as the Joker nodded enthusiastically. "All right, Mr. Zack Man!" they answered, then reached for Batman's wrist and dragged the other off to the elevators.

Zack grinned, removing himself from Cid, who was looking at him in utter amazement mixed with frustration. The black-haired one shrugged. "I'm good with kids, what can I say?" And he started back for the living room, faintly wondering if Cid would bring up the topic they had previously been discussing.

But he didn't. At least not immediately. The man shot a glare at Zack that could kill, and then proceeded to busy himself with something, namely sifting through his Modern Mechanics magazines, (the ones which happened to be strewn all over the coffee table). When he had finished the inane task, he walked to the kitchen (Zack had been sitting down, drinking a bottle of coke and watching him), heated himself up a cup of tea, and sat down, rubbing the curve of the mug's handle absentmindedly as he rested his elbows on the table.

Finally, when he seemed to be at his calmest, he looked towards Zack and said, in as civil a tone as a guy like Cid could muster: "Why did you have to pull that shit on me?"

An arm loosely hanging over the back of his chair, the opposite one grasping his can of Coca-Cola as he sipped at it slowly, raising both eyebrows innocently. "What shit do you speak of, oh Ciddish one?" It was far too easy to pull his strings, and he just couldn't resist.

The calm was beginning to wear off. Cid grated his teeth at Zack's impudence, but tried not to look perturbed, instead smiling dangerously while keeping his cool demeanor. "I think you know very well," he leaned back, taking a sip of his tea and realizing with disdain that this batch was particularly weak. God. And he needed some caffeine about now, too...

Flicking a few fingers through his rebellious hair, Zack sighed plaintively and set his can down upon the tabletop, then leaning forward in his seat, arm slinking off of its position on the chair's backside as he rested his head in the palms of both hands and stared across the table at his friend.

"Y'see, I wouldn't define what I did as 'shit' because I wasn't lying. I like guys, what's the big deal?" he countered, straightening a bit and glaring at Cid in an accusatory manner; if he was lucky, he could try and spring the 'oh my god you're a homophobe so HOLY SHIT YOU MUST BE GAY' gimmick on him and rub him the wrong way even more than he had already.

Cid looked away, slightly defeated. no it's not like a have he swallowed hard, almost visibly gagging, a problem with that kinda crap; it's just that The image of Zack's face just in front of his own, cool and smug, came to mind. What had gone on back there, anyway? He paused and suddenly found himself rubbing his eyes vigorously and subsequently turning back to his roommate, vision half-unfocused and blurry.

He got up, putting his mug in the sink and rinsing it. You can act like that around whatever little friends you may have, he turned around, growling, hands on his hips. But around here— he waved vaguely towards the rest of the apartment and glared. You go by my fucking rules, and here, you just don't pull that shit, got it?!

Zack shrugged and shook his head in dismay, wondering if Cid's vocabulary extended beyond the phrase pull that shit and deciding to parody it. I don't think I was pulling any shit, considering you hadn't even been aware of my sexuality until now, he responded coolly, both hands placed flat on the tabletop as he stood from his seat to place the now-empty Coke can in the recycle bin. He headed for the living room and the much-loved TV.

You're the one that didn't believe me that's the only reason I did that earlier, he called back. Though he had to wonder what would have happened if the kids hadn't interrupted. Cid would have probably yelled some obscenity, pushed him out of the way, and hid away in his room so as to avoid the whole situation.

Which he seemed to now be on the verge of doing.

Cid seemed to be overcome with anger for a moment, flustered and opening and closing his mouth. Finally, he turned away, slumped over with his hands in his pockets as he made his way towards the bedroom. This is pointless Just forget about it. He suddenly paused, as if having a second thought. lay off the touchy-feely crap all right?

Before Zack could respond, the blonde seemed to have scuttled into said room and slammed the door.

Zack purred, he's playing hard to get.

*~*~*

Zack growled, wrinkling his nose in disgust. This stuff smells like crap! he announced, holding the top handle of the trash bag with his fingertips, arm extended as far from his body as possible so he wouldn't have to endure the full extent of the smell. He, of course, didn't think that maybe the horrible odor was because it hadn't been taken out in so long. Grumbling, he stepped out of the apartment into the hall, preparing to go downstairs and empty it.

Go on, then! Cid said a little too loudly as he stood in the doorway and gestured wildly for his roommate to make for the elevator down the hall. Go—take your trash out, by all means, cause I'm sick of smelling that shit, TOO!!!

But it's icky! Zack whined, giving Cid the best pleading puppy-dog eyes he could manage. Normally, those would turn the pilot just a tad more sympathetic, but amid the horrible smell of garbage, the blonde simply narrowed his own sky-blue irises and slammed the door in Zack's face.

And so, after much pouting, the spiky-haired one trudged down the hall and he would have made it to the elevator just fine had a damsel of fair (and fine) proportions not walked by him, attracting the attention of glowing eyes. These same orbs widened to a large extent when he witnessed her knocking on the door of the apartment he had just exited.

The woman paused, sensing a gaze on her, and looked towards the youth dubiously, arching an eyebrow. After she seemed to have sized Zack up, she looked back to Cid, who had by now opened the door with a friendly (Cid had the ability to be friendly?!?), and the woman side glanced at the black-haired youth. Who's the trash kid?

The blonde glared towards the and turned back towards the woman. Oh, just a charity case He gave an unbearably exasperated sigh.

Charcoal brows furrowed as Zack listened in, and he was soon compelled to walk over to join in on the conversation—after all, it was his dignity being beset here---leaving the undisposed trash on the floor where he had been standing. He shot a glare at the stranger. Hey, I'm not— He cut himself off, for it was only now that he realized just how incredibly hot she was. Brown eyes, dark complexion, and silky brown hair that fell down to her waist, paired with a slim bodice and rather shapely breasts. Ooh, la la! For a moment he simply looked her up and down—barely attempting to hide the fact that he was checking her out. He usually didn't make any effort to hide such things.

It probably would have been a good idea this time too, telling from the fact that Cid suddenly smacked him upside the head and caused him to temporarily crumple to the ground. he grated to the form on the floor, gesturing towards the woman in question. Meet Celia.

Celia looked down towards the black-haired youth blankly. Now that Zack was in the position to pay attention to it, her voice seemed strangely exotic, as if she had picked up some unknown accent from somewhere. Prob'ly somewhere very romantic

she said dryly, bringing the youth back to reality. And here I was about to call him

Cid looked away, rubbing the back of his neck before shooting daggers at his roommate.

I sincerely apologize, Miss Celia, Zack said smoothly, standing up, straightening, and giving her a warm glance. I was simply overwhelmed by your stunning beauty. Though I'm sure you've heard that before a hundred times over. Nonetheless, as you can see, it brought me to my knees. Once again he transformed from a bickering kid to a sophisticated, gallant young man when in the presence of an attractive woman. Now he was beginning to realize why Cid had believed he was straight. Really, did he ever let up?

Celia gave him a blank look and otherwise took to the tactic of ignoring him, instead facing Cid and giving a strained smile. I can see why you put him out with the garbage

Cid laughed nervously, drowning out the sound of Zack's protesting Kinda got him on my hands and have yet never been able to take him off He suddenly looked up, grinning sincerely this time. So, what brings you up to the fifth circle of hell?

It took Zack a moment to realize that the fifth circle of hell was actually the fifth floor of the apartment complex. He also realized that the two seemed to be ignoring him as if he had never existed, even though he was the main subject of their conversation.

I heard you had a new roommate, the black-haired woman smiled. Delouise wouldn't stop complaining about the noise you two were making----I came up to see who this infamous newcomer was.

Eh, well, he's nothing really worth looking at Cid said offhandedly, as if Zack meant less to him than a rotten piece of string cheese. Dunno why she'd make such a hell of a fuss, anyway. Not like we've been disturbing anyone or anything His face suddenly turned dark. Not like those brats.

 Celia answered, a little doubtful. Bronco came to the door, tongue lolling out of her mouth, and whined towards the woman. Celia's manner suddenly turned more lighthearted as she laughed and kneeled down. I haven't seen you around much anymore, girl!

Yeah, I've been kinda busy lately Zack had a feeling that Cid's angry eyes would be on him once more had this action not involved recognizing the fact that the youth was still standing there. Been feelin' kinda guilty bout it, actually

Oh, well, you know, if you ever need any help taking care of her, I could do the job

Aw, s'all right, I'm kinda on a tight budget

No, no, free of charge, she smiled. Ever since poor old Pete went up to dog heaven Well, I've been kinda lonely whenever Sara's out of town on business.

Sara? Zack had been slinking away, his ego no longer allowing him to stand by idly while his pride was attacked so violently – and blatantly. Now, his ears suddenly pricked up as he turned towards the two, who were now at a safe distance. Could Celia be the Ms. Meroni that he'd been wondering oh-so-much about?

Yeah, well, actually Cid said thoughtfully, I might actually be traveling soon to do some surveying for the company, so I'll give you a ring if I need------ His head suddenly whirled towards Zack and he yelled. HEY, go take out the damn TRASH already!!!!!!I

Eyes narrowing sternly, the ex-SOLDIER grabbed the trash bag and contemplated shouting something back in retort, but gave up on it. It wouldn't make any difference.. Instead, almost passive-aggressively, he made sure he took the elevator, just to annoy the pilot who always insisted that they run up and down the stairs. As soon as he pushed the button and heard the off-key he stepped inside and sighed. For some reason, he got the feeling that Cid, at least, would feel better with the few moments of peace that he got from the youth's absence.

*~*~*

Did that guy hide the Coke again? Zack was busy in the kitchen, emptying out every cabinet and drawer that he knew existed in the small room. There were pots and pans scattered across the floor, along with different papers and such that had been stuffed randomly into drawers and whatnot. Zack faintly wondered if these cooking items had ever been put to use, for he could never remember a night when Cid had actually taken them out and cooked an actual, full-blown meal. They pretty much lived on takeouts and freezer food.

Though that was not the important part. What was important was that he had a full supply of Coke yesterday and now it seemed as if all of it was... well... gone. He knew he drank a lot of the stuff, but he wasn't sure if it was physically possible to drink that much of it in that amount of time. Delving his hand deeper into one of the cabinets closer to the ground, he felt a bunch of small packages all stacked up. Frowning, he grasped one and pulled it out, only to see it was a pack of... cigarettes.

He stared at it for a moment, wondering where the hell this had come from and why it was hidden away. Then, he remembered that day that he had met the man that was now the ultimate authoritarian figure in his existence–--a fight in the supermarket causing them to go home with mountains of cigarettes. Seems this is where Cid had stored them all. Guess he doesn't smoke. Oh well, I can put these to good use! He stood up from the floor, figuring this would be a good substitute for his favorite drink, at least for now, and headed for the living room, though not before finding a box of matches that he took with him. The kitchen was left a mess.

Scratching a match over the coarse part of the box to make a flame, he cupped his hand around it to make sure it didn't get blown out as he lit up and collapsed onto the couch, puffing away carelessly. Soon, he had become completely relaxed, and because of this, he was ten times more surprised than he normally would have been when Cid burst out of his work room and into the hallway.

What is that godawful smell?! The pilot shouted, holding a wrench in one hand and a box of bolts in the other, his nose scrunched up and his eyes slightly red, as if he had been rubbing them. Suddenly, these same irritated irises came to rest on Zack, who looked back blankly.

Cid yelled, dropping the items in his hands, grabbing the other's arm from over the top of the couch and pulling him towards him. Zack smiled nervously (when was there a time that Cid couldn't find some fault in him?) and stayed quiet until he knew what exact rule he had broken.

You......... you can't smoke in here! That's disgusting! The pilot suddenly let go of the youth and turned away, lapsing into a violent coughing fit that sounded quite painful. Through the hacks, some words were still discernible. You gonna..... light...... up......... get the fuck out!

Zack stood up, moving away from the couch and stepping into the more open area that was the space between the living room and kitchen. Removing the cigarette, held between his fore and middle finger, he, of course, began to argue with Cid. What's the problem? he questioned, one eye narrowed. It's not like I'm smoking like a chimney all the time----I'm not one of those people with a cig in my mouth all the time, all right?! I think it's okay to have a smoke now and then when there's no Coke... Speaking of which, what happened to all the soda? He gesticulated both arms around him, ignoring the thin trail of smoke that followed the cigarette as it was moved with his over-dramatic hand gestures.

Cid managed to stand up, clutching at his chest with eyes that were watering pretty badly as he heaved as best he could. He paused for a moment, opened his mouth, faltered, and began to speak.

That's not the fucking point, he growled, finally getting over the reactions that his lungs had had to the stuff (they must have been pretty sensitive for the smoke to have had such a drastic effect on him as that) He walked steadily to the balcony door, opened it, and with a stern look on his face, pointed towards the steel railing upon which layers of peeling green paint could be seen.

The younger one's face became more down-trodden as he whined out his next question: Why? What's your whole problem with it? It's not like I'm endangering any babies or anything. Unless, of course, the youth grinned wickedly at Cid, who was still having a hard time breathing, you count yourself as one Yes, Zack had been watching too much TV with commercials going on about how second-hand smoke could defect the lungs of small children. And the only small children around were the Terrible Twins, and Zack was rather sure that Cid wanted their lungs to become under-developed.

D'you know what that shit can do to you?! Cid scowled back, taking out a hand and proceeding to count the negative aspects of smoking on his fingers. Irritability, withdrawal symptoms, increased chance of cancers in your gums, throat, and lungs and diseases including bronchitis, raspiness or gruffness of the voice, increased chance of gathering facial wrinkles at an early age, yellowed teeth----- Cid realized he had run out of fingers, crossed his arms, and turned away. Anyway, it's something only someone retarded like you would ever find pleasurable....

An eyebrow was merely raised in response to the long rant Cid had jumped into. Who would have thought some ex-Air Force buff would be against smoking? Although it was hard to imagine the guy lighting up, what with all the side effects he had mentioned and his extreme reaction to it. Zack visibly shuddered, thinking back on Cid's list. He hated to think of his roommate on nicotine. It would be like how the guy normally was on a bad day, when he had had to walk home in the rain because his car had broken down, hadn't gotten the raise he had asked for, and had burnt his TV dinner – times ten.

Still, his whole problem with it was perplexing. The only partners' Zack had ever been with that had had a problem with his smoking had been girls, and that had been during the times when he had been more heavily smoking. He had laid off quite a bit since then, for an array of differing reasons. However, Zack always had to make the best of these situations. And that, of course, meant getting on Cid's nerves. Awr, Cid, you really do care about my well-being! he proclaimed sweetly. How considerate of you!

Cid narrowed his eyes, grabbed Zack's upper arm, wrenched it towards him and throwing the boy out onto the balcony, slamming the sliding door behind him. The momentum of being thrown so roughly almost caused the hedgehog-haired boy to go careening over the balcony's railing into a five-story fall to meet a nice concrete road. He did manage to stop himself, though it was just barely – he had played with his life when it came to the balcony once before, and that time Cid had been there to grab him; he doubted that would be the case this time. And surprisingly enough, through all of this roughness he had managed to keep his cigarette with him. Still gripping the railing as if for dear life, he whirled his head around and yelled: Hey, you coulda killed me------AGAIN!'

The door suddenly opened slightly, and Zack found his pack of cigarettes flying at him and smacking him in the forehead. The door was shut again shortly after.

Zack yelped, his left, free hand reaching up to rub at the spot where the pack had made contact with his head. He bent down to retrieve said pack, then spinning around to gaze over the balcony at the wonderful sight that lay before him – that, of course, being the down-in-the-dumps state of the Slums.

Sometimes I really hate that man, he grumbled inwardly before realizing that Cid was probably thinking the same exact thing about him. He sighed, looking towards the construction that they were beginning on the plate that would end up covering this sector. Or maybe I just feel sorry for the guy. I mean, why does he always act so. weird?

Just then, however, Zack became distracted by the sound of a plane flying overhead and completely forgot about it.

*~*~*

And so there he was a few days later, perched out on the balcony, cig resting between his lips. However, now he had an ice cold bottle of Coke in hand to go with his smoke, that of which he was now in the process of opening. Can't believe he's making me stand out here in the cold while he's in there... working. I can't even remember when we're supposed to go the office anymore. He thought with a grumble as he successfully got the top off of the beverage, then removed his cigarette for a moment so he could guzzle down some of the holy elixir.

He turned from staring out over the balcony to leaning his back against the cold railing, staring inside at the apartment that seemed to be empty even though he knew Cid was holed up in his work room doing some menial task that he didn't really care about. He went to place the cap back onto the Coke before something caught his eye. Flipping the cap over, he frowned at what was written on the back. You're a Winner? he questioned skeptically, staring at it for a moment. With that, he tossed the cigarette over his shoulder and then headed on inside. Hey, Cid! he called, wondering if the man could hear him from in the work room – and more importantly, if he'd even respond to his call if he heard it.

Whaddya want? Cid poked his head out of his workroom door, but his expression couldn't be discerned from the welder's helmet that he was wearing over his face, along with the grease-splotched apron and heavy worker's gloves. His rough voice came out muffled, but still discernible. If it's about the Coke, you drank it all; I had nothin' to do with it!

Zack smiled softly, shaking his head. No, no... it's just that... He took a few steps towards the dirtied man and then extended his hand, holding the Coke cap, towards him. Look, it says I'm a do you think that's actually possible, though? I thought all those Coke contests were rigged... they do give me a number to call, though. He frowned in contemplation; he supposed maybe he had win, considering all the Coke he had drunk in his life, but it still sounded a bit far-fetched.

Cid's voice became less distorted as he wrenched the face plate from in front of his face and pulled it upwards, revealing a blank stare. He walked forward, snatching the cap from the bewildered youth and holding it up to the ceiling with a gloved hand, squinting at it with one eye until he finally brought it down again. he scratched the back of his head, only to have it hit the back of the helmet. He stared at it. Unless it's fake or anything..... He shrugged, putting it back into Zack's waiting palm and waving him away dismissively as he made his way back to the small room. I dunno------call the damn number!

Err, all right, Zack responded, nodding. He turned to go seek out the phone before stopping, turning around, and grabbing Cid's attention before he closed the door. Hey, Cid! Mmm... thanks. He wasn't really sure what he was apologizing for, and after the words came out, he felt a little embarrassed, but he skirted off to look for the phone before he could see Cid's reaction to his somewhat random statement.