Authors Note: Greetings, fantubers!
Ahem.
Dedicated to my good friend Adam T. Siska!
Rating: T (to be safe—you know me and my dirty, dirty mind)
Pairings: Yuffie x Vincent
Notes: I KNOW this is not his history in the least bit. This is just Yuffie's warped vision of it; no one ever tells her anything.
Music: Nada.
Timeline: Eight months after DOC.
Drabbletine Summary: "That Starbucks Mocha Frap Was Such a Bad Idea." The narrative of an habitual insomniac.
Disclaimer: I'm boycotting disclaimers. (As my lawyers step in) "Ahem. She owns nothing."
Drabbletine (noun); a fluffy(ish) humor-drama-drabble-oneshot about Vincent and Yuffie (and Co.) written by Latte.
The Drabbletines (proper noun); a collection of drabbles/oneshots (fifteen to be exact) that are all universally centered on Vincent and Yuffie. They may be good writing (Huh, not likely) or they may be bad writing, (Heh, very likely.) but they're still... uh... drabbletines (Stretch of the imagination, that one.).
...
...
And on with the drabble inside!
What a wonderful
Caricature of
Good writing!
- ?
...
...
halitosis;
hal·i·to·sis
pronounced /ˌhæl ɪˈtoʊ sɪs/
Pronunciation Key (hal-i-toh-sis)
–noun
a condition of having offensive-smelling breath; bad breath.
...
...
So you've come to hear my tale, have you? Well then…
I would like to start this out by assuring you that all of this mess was caused by insomnia.
I don't normally have insomnia, I just happened to have it for three weeks straight...
...Okay, maybe three or four months straight. But none of Avalanche knew about it. Just because I didn't sleep, didn't mean I banged around all night—gotcha?
Good. That being sorted out...
On the night... morning—uh, dawn of this disaster, I, Yuffie Kisaragi, the Great Ninja—but of course you know me—couldn't sleep.
Okay, so that's a little anti-climatic, I mean, I know you're expecting some valiant fight or something, but this story isn't about bravery.
It really isn't about me at all.
It's about a big, over-sized bat with a droopy cape, and a sad face. This bat is very, very... wise. And he's very intelligent and enigmatic.
This bat's name is Vinnie. (Victor, if I'm in a real temper.)
This bat also happens to leave the house a lot. He doesn't go into Edge and have a good ol' time. Nope, this bat just flies off to a big magical cave in the middle of some godforsaken mountains, and mopes.
Not a very happy bat, is he?
But maybe I should start at the beginning of the bat...
A long, long, long, long... uh, extensive time ago, there was a teen, er... adolescent bat called Vincent. This bat was a happy, I mean... contented bat, and his family was a contented family... of bats, of course.
Then one day, the evil, or... odious and corrupted company... posse of vampire bats snatched him up, and murdered his family! This posse was called Shinra.
When they informed Vincent that he was supposed to work for the posse, he didn't want to. Sadly, he had nowhere else to go, so the dejected bat agreed.
Inside the posse, there was a mini, uh... miniature posse. The bats in this posse were known as the Turks.
It's believed they were called Turks after Turkeys, because those bats, deep down, wanted to be birds, not mammals, so they got as close to it as they could.
...But this is only a theory after all.
Heh... yeah. Moving on:
There were a lot of nasty... err, malicious bats in the Turks, and none of them liked the fact that the posse had swept a new bat into their midst—a bat that seemed to be doing better than all of them combined!
After many failed attempts on his life, none of them executed with any finesse, the bats finally gave up, and accepted Vincent into their midst.
So Vincent climbed up the ladder of power.
But then, he was assigned to his downfall.
Her name was Lucrecia Crescent, and she was a beautiful bat.
She was, also, a stuck-up, skinny !)^*$(#, but nobody really seemed to notice this.
Um… right. So this beautiful she-bat and our hero Vinnie became friends.
Yeah, right. Friends. She probably had a bunch more on her mind than "just friends" but really, what does that matter now? All that matters is that the whole thing ended in disaster, and our hero became the hero of a game called operation. (A very fun game where the operee's nose lights up red if you—um… right. Not that type.)
A horrible, old, corrupted, malicious, evil, odious, stinky, hideous, ugly old bat called Hojo did some horrible, old, corrupted, malicious, evil, odious, stinky, hideous, ugly old things to our great, awesome, amazing, superb, terrific, cool, resplendent (oh, pretty word) hero. Who then in all his greatness, awesomeness, amazingness, superbness, terrificness, coolness, and resplendence went away to a big termite tavern and had a great, awesome, amazing, superb, terrific, cool, resplendent beauty sleep.
Just like Vinnie was doing on that fateful night. That oh-so-very fateful night.
On "that fateful night" I was having an unusually bad bout of insomnia, but, knowing that there was a drinking party downstairs last night (don't ask me – Tifa must have been drunk to even suggest it) that I wasn't invited to because I'm underage, (but only until I release my amazing plan that warps my age to twenty-one) I decided to go check out the wreckage.
Wreckage it was. Silently slipping down sickeningly slippery slopes of steep stairs, I came upon what was once a great battle, a battle of kings that would be recorded in history for years to come. It was a great battle of… who could stay sober the longest. Cid won, I think. Well, his arm was half-raised in a sort of victory-raise, propped up by his head, and Cloud was lying on the ground looking half-dead. Tifa was at the bar, sleeping peacefully, with her head resting against the cold metal surface.
The Big Chocolate Marshmallow-Man was sprawled on the ground, and Reeve was sprawled on the ground next to him. I almost wanted to sprawl out next to them just so I could say there were sprawls all around.
Haha.
Haha…
Ha…
Ha…
Right. Moving on.
All in all, it was a rather forlorn scene, and if I hadn't known any better, I would have said it was the remains of a battle scene.
But, sigh, this wasn't helping me go to sleep… at all. An estrogen rush was in order (they tire me out like you wouldn't believe). Resigning myself to romance novels, chocolate and horrible chick flicks played on my tiny TV upstairs, I cast one more look around.
That's when I spotted him: Vinnie. Leaned back on a chair, feet occupying another chair, he was sleeping the uberest peacefull-i-est of them all and looked quite soundly sleepy.
Heh… yeah. Ignore my strange talk, I come from distant lands.
Okay, that might have been more believable if I had said it in some alien language. I'll remember that for next time, because you know very well there will be a next time.
And people will ask me, "Are you an alien?" And I'll be like, "No! I'm an extremely powerful ninja named Yuffie!"
I just like to do that once in a while.
Anyway, I doubted Vince was drinking, so I just supposed he had been dragged downstairs just because he wasn't underage.
Pffbbt. Lucky duck.
Or should I say, lucky bat?
Anyway, I tiptoed over to him and stifled a little giggle. He had the most adorable little half-quirk smile on his face. I smiled. He half-quirk smiled back at me.
Sadly, it wasn't quite at me, but it was close enough.
I'm sure he was dreaming of sexy ninjas like me. Haha! I know he was dreaming of awesomely sexy ninjas like me. I could see it in his face. His closed eyelids basically screamed, "Sexy ninjas! Sexy ninjas! SEXY NINJAS!"
Dude, no kidding. I could literally see it on his face.
Alright, so not literally, but you get my point.
He looked so peaceful. I kept on smiling at him and it was like a switch got stuck (like it usually does) and the smile was permanently affixed with super-glue to my face. Like grossness. Maybe this wasn't such a great thing.
I started making odd faces in the hope of wiping the smile off my face.
Vinnie smiled his dreamy little half-quirk smile back at me again.
Those lips were so beautiful. No, I know it sounds weird, but they are. They're like… almost pinky, and really… um…
Perfect?
Yup. Perfect.
And it was kind of sad, because even though I'm a hot and sexy ninja, Vinnie only goes for hot and sexy bats. And I had been harboring a silly-little-girl crush on him for a while. But yeah…
Anyway, I thought those lips were such a waste. They barely move. He doesn't talk enough. Vinnie should talk more. Vinnie's so stupid. But I still loved him for his stupidness. It's such awesome stupidness. Better than my stupidness.
My stupidness is a silly stupidness, while his is just an innocent stupidness.
Almost. I'm not so naïve as to call Vincent innocent, but his stupidness is more innocent than mine.
Haha! Gotcha there!
See? And you thought I was naïve. That's not very nice, you know. Anyway, I'm willing to forgive you of this tiny transgression and continue with my story. But I'll give you a finger waggle so you remember not to do it again.
Waggle, waggle.
Waggle—isn't that such a funny word? Waggle… I wonder where the heck that word came from. It's not from the sound it makes—it doesn't even make any noise. Obviously. But, come on, when you see a cat with his butt on vibrate before he jumps onto the counter, "waggle" just comes to mind.
"Isn't that right, Vinnie?" I whispered. I was almost tempted to push some of his hair behind his ears, but I beat the urge down with a rolled up newspaper.
I stopped myself from tapping a finger on his nose also, now hitting the urge over the head with a baseball bat. It wouldn't do to wake him up.
Wake him up… wake… him… up… It occurred to me that this was a wonderful prank-opportunity. I mean, he was begging for it. He was just sitting there and screaming, "Do it to me!"
Um, not like I could imagine anything that kinky coming out of his mouth, but… Well, I can imagine it, but I can't imagine him saying it in real life. Or, uh… do you get my point? Please say yes.
So, there I was, with a wonderful prank opportunity. What to do though? Should I do the ol' shaving cream and feather trick? Or the ol' makeover? (i.e. put makeup on them so they look perfectly hideous and not too far from a drag queen)
Vinnie would probably have killed me if I tried the last one, and he probably doesn't have enough sensory cells to feel the feather and the shaving cream trick. That left me with… what?
The world screeched to a halt. The solitary fly buzzing next to my ear stopped flying and fell ungracefully to the tiles. Everyone. Stopped. Breathing.
Everyone stopped moving.
This was horrible!
The Great Yuffie Kisaragi not being able to come up with a prank? The Single White Rose of Wutai failing at such a small task?
Inconceivable.
In a fit of habitual hysteria, I grabbed my hair, just where it came to tickle my ear lobe, and tugged. Tugged too hard.
Wuh-hay too hard.
In my defense, all I let out was a squeak, rather than the long, drawn-out, bloody-murder scream I wanted to release. I had shoved that scream back down my throat, filed it under the "if there's a creepy guy trying to rape you" category and had opted for the strangled squeak.
But it was enough.
No, it was too much.
Vinnie… stirred…
In a moment of blind, panicked terror, I dove. Y'know... under his chair. Which was not a smart idea.
Ha! Did you know the word "dove" also means, "a white bird that goes cooo-coo-cooo"? Bet'cha didn't know that. Isn't that cool? It also is the past tense of "dive" or some other tense like that or something but it really means to jump into a pool! Isn't that cool? But yeah. There was no pool. Just… clearing that up.
Ahem. Looking back, I'll admit it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but… I was terrified that he might wake up.
Considering my luck, I was positive my foot would catch under his chair and knock him off or something, but Leviathan was apparently smiling at my antics that night, and I managed to find a comfortable enough crouching position.
Not breathing, I listened to Vinnie shifting his position above me.
Noooo, I couldn't breathe, not because there was a metal bar jammed into my diaphragm or I was terrified of waking the angel slumbering above me (that sounds so wrong)—I was just suffocating myself practicing for the deep diving Olympics.
Of course it was because I didn't want to wake Vinnie up. Jeez. Me? In the Olympics? What's wrong with you?
Anyway. Vincent's movements ceased, his desired position apparently reached. As cautious as a mouse sneaking past a cat, I crept out from my hiding place.
Losing the whole "gotta be quiet or the world will blow up" act, I stood to my full height, characteristic pout on my lips and hands in their usual place on my hips.
What should I do? I mused, cocking my head and silently tapping my foot. No prank came to mind or, for that matter, anything else.
I took a hesitant step forward, glanced warily at his eyes, checking for movement or opening or other things of the awakened nature, and leaned over him. I looked at him, eye to eye, nose to nose, recalling the only other time I had been this close to him.
It's probably not what you'd expect.
It was just after Shelke had left in her fit of rage. I couldn't help hating her—we hadn't gotten along in the last few months she had stuck around. I'm not proud of the way I acted to her, and it was hinted by more than one person that I might have been the leading factor that led up to her departure.
A few seconds had passed as we all processed what had just happened and who had just left. Regaining speech, I had said something that wasn't too far from how I felt, "Good riddance," or something to that effect. Vincent was enraged. I had actually thought he might kill me or something.
But instead of letting that fear show or something, I had opted to scream all the things that was wrong with her, him, and her and him. Every bit of hurt I felt when he had chosen her company over mine; the repeated blow again and again—every particle of anger that coursed through my body every time I saw that look on her face—that almost smug, almost pitying expression—had seemed to find a pressure release through my words.
The hurt, the anger, the venom laced into those words…
I don't even want to think about how much that broke Vincent's trust.
The way he responded surprised us all. He responded in like.
It was the biggest inter-member Avalanche-ian fight that I can remember.
But, looking back a little bit ago, I finally got it. I had deserved every hostile word that escaped his lips.
Months, weeks upon weeks, of repairs and maintenance went into our shattered friendship. Time, energy, and pride were sacrificed to mend what never should have been broken.
So, yeah—nose to nose, screaming our guts out at each other—it was the only other time I could think of being so close.
I leaned closer, counting the… freckles? Nah. What were they?
I couldn't help but grin. "Freckles" was the only word that sprang to mind.
As I was in silent hysterics over his gorgeous little things-that-I-couldn't-name-and-so-named-freckles, I leaned forward just a tiny bit more, and the world broke.
No. Friggin'. Kidding.
The world like, exploded.
And like, the worst thing ever happened.
You know how the outside of his irises are a nice crimson? And how they have that inner ring of fire right around the pupil? Well, he has these almost chasms in his irises, with little filaments of a brighter red weaving in and out of the chasms. It's awesome.
Oh, did I mention those eyes were open? Yeah.
That might've been my nose bumping into his.
My eyes widened as the silence spanned.
He looked like he didn't really believe those gorgeous chasm-ful eyes. "Y-Yuffie?" his voice was but the barest whisper, but I heard him as if he had screamed. "What are you doing?"
My tongue seemed to swell and block any words that might have tried to escape. (Grossness)
I must have looked insane to him, first looking like a scared, terrified rabbit, then changing pace at a nanosecond, letting one of my usual grins spread across my face.
"Checking for halitosis!" I chirruped, before making my mostly silent escape up the stairs.
Ahem. The moral of the story?
Never bet on Vinnie having halitosis.
I need a super-cool way of saying "the end" so I'll give you a bit of my alien language!
Ashiyak onotombo!
...
...
If you can guess the amazing song I totally ripped off and stole in the pretty odd lyrics in the beginning, you get brownie, muffin, and cake points.
Yeah. And the beginning of the author note also has a verrrrry subtle hint of something else. If you understand it, please, talk to me, or I might go insane with the absence of fellow fans.
Anyway, I don't have to tell you to read and review and stuff, 'cause you already read, and I know you're going to review. -halo'd-
If you notice any formatting/spelling/grammar problems, please tell me. I totally sleep-wrote this. (Haha. Get it? Winky wink! :D)
ahem. in the words of my good narrator:
ashiyak onotombo!
...
...
Thanks for being fantuberous!
...
...
We now return you to your regularly scheduled fanfiction already in progress.
We return you to your fanfiction already in progress.
Thank you.