Author: Zhampy
Rating: T / PG-15
Genre: Humour/Romance
Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing in the FFVII Compilation. See if you can spot all the references I steal throughout this fic!
Summery: Cloud finds an injured owl that flew into his window. He decides to keep it, naming it "Hooter", but everytime he talks about his pet everyone thinks he's talking about seeing a prostitute. He is eventaully reprimanded for this behaviour but corrects himself to Sephiroth.
Contains: Main pairing is one-sided Cloud/Sephiroth with a Zack/Aerith side-dish and some other minor pairings. Some OOCness for humourous purposes, AR, couple of OCs, and occasional foul language.
a/n: "Bird" is slang for an attractive woman, for you non-Brits. It's also a feathered avian.
Modus Operandi
Episode Seven – Birds! Birds! Birds!
Laying in his bunk that evening, Cloud considered his position: he was sort of laid half on his side and half on his back. One arm thrust under his two flat pillows (the second of which he had acquired from Walker), and his other arm folded against his chest. His legs were slightly bent as he tried to conserve heat under the thin blanket, and Granville was sleeping on the top bunk dead as a rock and muttering.
Oh, and also he'd been back in the past for a few months now. He'd spend his days training with Zack (and Angeal sometimes), being heckled by Genesis and humiliating himself in front of Sephiroth. Speaking of Sephiroth, the General seemed a lot less inclined to spewing genocidal monologues and more interested in keeping his trap shut. Which was nice. It made it so much easier for Cloud to repeatedly put his foot in his own mouth.
Things had certainly changed since he'd last been a sixteen-year-old, that was for sure. For a start he'd never heard of Angeal and Genesis before, and since when had fanclubs been an official thing? He didn't understand how though. Wasn't there something called the butterfly effect were stuff changed in the future as things happened in the past? Well of course. That was what he was doing right now!
So who the hell had gone back further into the past to change all this new bullshit that was happening right now? Last he remembered it had only been Zack and Sephiroth dicking about, and him being useless. Some things hadn't changed (he was still useless), but it was still confusing.
"Aerith..."
"Eh," the flower girl boredly answered. "Maybe some other dead person sent their friend back further to change things for you."
"How can you not know?" Cloud whispered, mindful of not waking Granville.
"We don't keep track of all our dead friends, Cloud," Zack remarked. "They're not nearly as entertaaa—time consuming as you."
"We're not the only ones in the lifestream mucking up someone's life, you know."
"Holy crap, you should see what George is doing to his ex."
Aerith sighed wistfully. "Such bitterness. Such vindication. Such creativity. I admire him."
"We should compare notes," Zack whispered secretively, but as he were a voice in Cloud's head it wasn't really secretive at all, and he'd just given away his hand. If Cloud knew at all who this George fellow was. Which he didn't. So he supposed Zack still did have his hand... figuratively speaking.
"Now let us never speak of this again!"
Cloud grunted and decided he shouldn't really care at such a late hour. He rolled over fully onto his side and hugged his hands to his chest more comfortably. Lulled to sleep by his roommate's mumblings about hot cross buns and raspberry jam, Cloud felt his eyelids drooping and didn't fight it.
THUD!
He bolted up in bed.
"What was that!?"
"...the butter hasn't melted...nnn," Granville curled around his pillow.
So Cloud ignored him. Looking around it was too dark to actually see anything, despite that doctors had already begun pumping him full of mako. Slowly he slid out of bed and tiptoed around old socks and soiled (gross!) underwear and other motley pieces of discarded clothing and assorted mouldy food items. He carefully approached his desk by the window.
"What was that, Pete?" Cloud consulted his cactus. "Did you see anything?"
"..." Pete replied, for he is a cactus you see.
Deciding to risk it he slid the window open and poked his head out into the clammy summer night. Looking around nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Hmmm, imaginary Sephiroth maybe? he thought.
"Not-so-imaginary Sephiroth!" Head-Zack suddenly yelled.
With a yelp of surprise Cloud threw himself to the floor, twisting his body so he could face upwards and deflect the oncoming attack. But as he laid there for a while nothing more happened.
"HAHAHAHA!" Zack howled. "Ha, ha, ha, this is never gonna get old."
Rising to his feet again Cloud embarrassedly brushed off some non-existent dust from his blue-striped pyjamas. "So help me god, Zack, when i'm dead I am going to punch you so hard, you have no idea."
His only reply was more laughter.
Ugh, whatever. To preserve any remaining dignity Cloud took one last look out the window and spotted it! Just below his window laid flat out and unmoving was a small brown bird.
"Heh, dumb bird," he snickered. Then glancing to the side he noticed a neat bird-shaped smudge on the glass pane, and thinking back to the time he'd smashed his own face into a hard object, winced in sympathy. "Keep an eye on Granville," Cloud told Pete, who remained as stoic as ever.
Then he climbed from the window. The dumb bird had landed rather precariously on a large pipe that jutted out from the building for whatever reason. Probably a steam pipe or water pipe or something. Either way it made it difficult for Cloud to balance as he dropped down. But Cloud was a pro now—not the bumbling idiot he'd been originally—well, in his mind he was. His body seemed to disagree, however, as he inched forward in a most unimpressive display that would surely fail him during a SOLDIER exam, and pounced on the unconscious bird.
With bird now in hand Cloud looked back up at his window. It was well out of reach. "Mmm. Should've thought this through," he pointed out the obvious.
To any outsider it would seem very strange that a cadet should be scaling the side of the barracks in only his stripy pyjamas with a small bird clutched in his hands. To the security guard observing the action it was merely yet another night in the system of ShinRa, and they didn't pay him nearly enough to investigate further.
Now Cloud was frustrated that he couldn't return to his room. If he dumped the flying rat he could easily jump back up, but with one hand occupied? Who did he think he was? A superhero?! No. His other option was taking a tumble down the side of the building, but he didn't particularly feel like breaking his ankles tonight. So that left him with one other last remaining secret option.
He lobbed that concussed bird through his window and climbed back in like the pro he believed himself to be. That wasn't the secret option or anything. That's a secret.
Upon his re-entry to the room Cloud began the search for the bird. He tackled the Maze of Unpleasantness and found the bird laid mangled in bed right beside his roommate. Holding his breath he slowly reached for the thing but just as he made contact Granville snatched it from his grasp, hugging it in his sleep. Cloud growled and it was all he could do not to gift the boy with a concussion of his own. Then a thought struck him. He dodged the Obstacle Course of Foulness and grabbed Pete, then once again braved the Test of Filth to reach the bunk. He deftly swapped the probably dead bird with Pete.
"Now I don't want you to worry," Cloud rushed to reassure Pete. "Birdy here isn't going to replace you. You'll always be my most special little guy."
Pete reacted neither positively nor negatively to this news.
"Oww..." Granville sleepily murmured as he lovingly embraced the cactus.
Scrutinising the small feathered pest, Cloud took it into the tiny bathroom he had to share with his roommate. The unconscious heap was small; small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Either it was a baby or some kind of munchkin breed, or developmentally challenged. This suddenly endeared it to him as if he felt a connection with the overbalanced, large-headed avian with big soul-crushing eyes and awkwardly large feet that apparently had a habit of flying head first into hard objects. Why, he had no idea. No idea!
Either way, no matter how he felt about it, keeping animals in the barracks was strictly illegal. As if he hadn't already known that then his roommate's whinging about having to leave his childhood family, multi-eyed, bug-monster pet at home would have certainly drilled it into his head.
Not that he hadn't done anything illegal before. Technically, he were lying about his age, now actually being twenty-four and a sixteen-year-old body, but that were hardly his fault, he grumbled in his head to guilty silence. And the heavy drinking was pretty illegal too. And he'd stolen a pair of boots from an older cadet a few weeks back. And he continuously kept sneaking off grounds through that break in the wall just passed that patch of meticulously groomed grass. Climbing the side of the building was probably also not kosher.
So, if he were honest with himself, he did do a lot of illegal things.
Besides, he could pin the blame on Granville anyway.
Everyone else did.
He dumped the owl in the bath and sprinkled it with the showerhead. He did this with malice and without gentleness if anyone asks. The bird immediately snapped awake, screeching and flapping and generally raising a huge fuss over a light sprinkle of warm water. If he were careful he could probably sell it to Walker for a pretty penny (people ate owls, right?) and then immediately hand that earned gil back over in exchange for goods and services of the mind-altering variety.
"Shut up, bird," Cloud hissed and grabbed the thing firmly.
"Hoo!"
The bedraggled thing turned it's head 180 degrees to face him.
Angels sang.
Cloud found himself captivated like a victim in the headlights of a Doomtrain, only instead of being obliterated by a nightmarish fever dream of painful locomotive, he were obliterated by big soulful eyes, adorable and pleading in their innocence.
"Awww," his bottom lip trembled.
The owl tilted its head further to what looked to be a painful angle and his fist held her like an ice cream cone; one big head—all eyes—begging him.
"H-how are you doing this to me?"
Boring into his soul; he could feel his carefully constructed, cold walls of indifference crumbling around him.
"Stupid—stupid bird..."
"Hoo?"
Cloud fell to his knees in defeat. The owl scrambled from his slack grip and propped herself up on his head, hooting and cooing victoriously.
At a later point in the night Granville had been pecked, scratched, trodden on, sworn at, kicked and shat on (by the bird, I assure you). Cloud sat with his owl on the edge of the bath with a handful of birdseed he had commandeered from the mounted chocobo stables' provisions.
"I think i'll call you Hooter," Cloud announced to the bird. "You like that?"
Hooter cocked her head so cutely that Cloud nearly melted. "Hoo?"
"Okay, Hooter it is," Cloud practically squealed. "Now what to do with you..."
What would Tifa do? No, he probably shouldn't punch it.
What would Barret do? He'd already sworn at it a whole bunch.
What would Nanaki do? It... didn't really look very delicious.
"What would Zack do?" Zack interjected.
What would Cid do...?
"Sit your bird-butt down and eat your goddamned birdseed!"
And by hell, did that bird put its butt down and eat its goddamn birdseed.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
A few days later and things had settled down for both Cloud and Hooter. Their days remained the same repetitive routine of training and eating birdseed. Hooter would be a gifted SOLDIER and Cloud really loved his damn birdseed. Now Cloud was sat in the mess hall after a particularly humiliating sparring session with his (as Zack would have him say) Master and Sensei, that uber talented and incredibly handsome and charming, babe magnet, SOLDIER Second-First candidate, Zachary Fair.
Zack had managed to clonk him on the head with the flat of his sword. Now Cloud had a bandaged skull as he ate (what was apparently passable by the health regulations of ShinRa) the canteen grub. He wouldn't be at all surprised if there where actual grubs in the food. His close selection of who he considered to be friends (and Private Walker) sat at his table conversing loudly and excitably.
"So I hear Captain Thompson is having secret liaisons with a Turk," one boy said as he stuffed mashed potato into his mouth.
"That is sick!" a second one said.
"Guy's a fucking race traitor! Imagine; a Turk."
"I hear he has a liking for jailbait."
"Ew, that cradle robber!"
"Fucking pervert!"
"You'd better watch out, Cloud. You're just his type."
"Nah," Cloud shook his head. "I hear he's moved onto someone else. Palmer."
"Oh, ew... EW!"
"Yeah, I hear he likes to stick his rocket up someone's space station."
"Okay, that's enough, stop talking!" The boys gagged on their meal. There was a quiet moment of revulsion as it was plainly obvious each boy was imagining the situation despite all efforts not to. Their disgusting reverie was broken when the first boy spoke up again.
"Well, I can assure you, my friends, what i'm sticking my rocket up is a hot piece of—"
And then the boys devolved into a band of savages each bragging about the hot woman they met out on the latest beer run. Cloud grumbled to himself about how the last "hot woman" he had seen had tricked him into joining the fanclub of the infinatly hotter General. And now he constantly received text messages updating him as to where Sephiroth had last been seen, and what he'd been wearing and who he'd been talking to, what he'd last eaten, and when he'd tripped in the hall that one time and Anastasia had sent pictures to all her loyal club members.
Not that Cloud didn't appreciate gazing at an image of the living weapon who had last been seen sticking his sword through some anonymous chump's guts (while wearing his usual uniform, speaking to no one and then eating a prawn cracker), now looking around a seemingly empty hall all sheepish-like, as if he'd just been caught with his pants down. It was disarmingly adorable and the image had been stashed away for his own, uh, personal use.
"So, who've you banged lately, Cloud?" his friend asked.
Cloud spat out a half-chewed carrot slice back onto his plate and spluttered incoherently.
"W-what!?"
"Cloud spends all his time getting shitfaced at my place," Walker informed the group.
"Oh, huh. No time for women, huh?"
"You should learn to multi-task, man. Getting drunk and laid, it's every man's paradise!"
"Nah, Cloud is a Silver Elite now. He's probably too busy jerking it to the General," his first friend grinned. When those at the table all looked to him for clarification he continued; "Granville told me."
The power of speech refused to come to him. Cloud was mortified. But really, what defence did he have? He really was jerking it to Sephiroth, and obviously not quietly enough.
"I... I have a bird!" he blurted.
"Yeah?" His friends watched him carefully.
"Responsibilities!" he continued. "To my bird!"
"So you're attached, and it's serious? Probably should stop getting blasted at mine all the time then," Walker suggested.
Cloud giggled nervously. "Heh, heh, yeah. She's so expensive. I have to buy her food and water."
"She sounds high maintenance."
"Uh huh, uh huh," Cloud nodded vigorously, now just happy that he had managed to divert attention away from how he whacked his little cadet. "And I have to buy her toys."
He friends then laughed for some reason and Cloud frowned.
"Can you not satisfy her?" one asked.
"Probably can't get it up now that his blood is ninety percent alcohol," Walker chortled into his mashed potato swimming in gravy.
Regardless of their nonsensical comments Cloud would continue talking about Hooter until he could escape. "And I have to clean up the mess she makes on Granville."
His friends suddenly stopped eating and looked at him. "You share your bird with your roommate?"
"Well, I don't want to," Cloud muttered almost jealously. "But she seems really attracted to him. She likes to sit on his face and always makes such a mess, and it stinks!"
"... dammmn!" his friends whooped. "Can we meet her sometime?"
Cloud paused, thinking it over. Only he and Granville knew about Hooter, but she was such a beautiful bird he was finding it hard not to show her off. "I guess, but you've got to be careful. She's... illegal."
"Illegal? How?" his friend asked.
Walker made a few vulgar hand gestures to the group and with a collective "oohhh" they understood.
"Don't worry, we can be discreet," his other friend winked.
"So where did you pick her up?" the first boy asked.
"Outside my window. She was unconscious," Cloud said happily.
"Uh, okay," Walker replied uneasily. "So, er... is she fit?"
Cloud shrugged as he finally felt comfortable enough to return to his questionable meal. "About as fit as any other bird I suppose."
His friends all shrugged in return, and his brunette friend clapped him on the back. "Well, congrats, Cloud! And here we all thought you where a raging homophile! Congrats on your... 'female companion'."
The rest of their time spent in the mess hall passed as innocently and as mundane as a regular day, and soon it was time for Cloud (the only SOLDIER candidate of his group of friends) to make his way to his next training session. As he left he missed the impressed gazes that followed him out. His friends all turned to look at each other.
"Damn, wish I could get a prostitute that interested in me," one of the boys said.
And sure enough, a persistent rumour began quickly spreading throughout the barracks...
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
It was few exhausting hours later when Cloud left the AR room after he had had his arse handed to him on a crimson platter by a hologram Genesis. The technicians had assured him that it was extremely unlikely that he'd be able to best a SOLDER First simulation when he'd only just recently begun receiving his mako shots, but that didn't exactly make him feel any more chipper about it.
As he walked down the hall in the direction of his quarters he began to notice people looking at him and whispering amongst themselves, some discreetly and some staring as if the mako shots had caused him to grow another head from his back that also happened to be eyeing him strangely. He looked back at those ones until they turned away. Upon further inspection and through his continued experience of walking a few metres further down the hall, it seemed as if all the men where grinning at him whilst all the women were avoiding his gaze. As he were watching this odd behaviour he bumped into a male PA to some ShinRa schmuck important enough to require an assistant but not a name.
"Nice job, kid!" the older man said to him.
"Uh, thanks," Cloud replied warily.
"Heard you got yourself quite the bird!" another guy said.
"Yeah, she is pretty great," Cloud nodded.
"Get on, my son!" the janitor gave him a thumbs up.
"Yeahh, right on," Cloud confusedly returned the gesture.
"You're a hero to us all!" a high-ranking official applauded.
"I try my best," Cloud bowed his head politely.
"You make me sick," a female secretary said as he passed by her desk.
"Um, sorry to hear that..." Cloud muttered.
And a little further down the hall...
"I hear you're having sex with a prostitute," another man in a smart suit said.
"Uhh, no, Mr Non Sequitur, but thanks?"
These people were weird. Well, weirder than the usual. Then he flashed back to accidentally walking in on Lieutenant Genesis waxing his eyelids. Well, maybe not as weird as that.
"Oh, well. Hooter will make me feel better."
"About that..."
Cloud spun and literally (read: not literally) jumped out of his boots in shock as Zack had either silently crept up behind him, or simply materialised there. "Don't do that to me!" he said breathlessly, but Zack didn't acknowledge his words. The Second class looked uncomfortable and... nervous?
"Listen, Cloud," Zack began uncharacteristically curt. "We have to talk. Come to my office."
Cloud frowned, really not liking how this was sounding. "I-I have to get back to my quarters. I have something to do..."
"We all know who you have to do," Zack retorted brusquely to Cloud's puzzlement. "Just follow me."
Uncertainly and probably just as nervously as his best friend, Cloud followed Zack along the maze that was the ShinRa Tower hallway system. He kept instep behind his superior as he'd been taught, but quickly noticed that they were not headed for the communal office Zack shared with other mentor SOLDIERs. They where headed to the private floor only those with great influence within the company could access. He stopped suddenly behind Zack, almost crashing into him.
"This isn't your office," he said carefully.
Zack only sighed. "Angeal's letting my use his office for this. More private."
Clouds eyes widened in realisation before he smiled cheekily. "Look, Zack, if you wanted some alone time with me you could just come to my room. I'll kick Granville out, I don't mind!"
"What?" Zack sputtered. "What?! No! Cloud, no! Just... argh, get inside."
"My pleasure," Cloud wagged his eyebrows and wiggled his way into the lavish office.
The office that he just now realised was across the hall from Sephiroth's, and presumably Genesis' as well. To say Lieutenant General Angeal liked fish was an understatement akin to implying Sephiroth handled mental trauma well. The actual walls of his office were giant fishtanks filled not with beautiful or unique, colourful tropical fish, but plain silver-grey freshwater fish. Rainbow trout, trench, sturgeons, herring, pike, catfish. Heck, there was even a stuffed swordfish placed above his desk which had probably died in this freshwater hellscape.
Zack leant against the front of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. For some reason he refused to meet Cloud's eye. "You have to get rid of your... bird."
"My wha? You want me to get rid of Hooter!?"
"Oh, god. You call her Hooter," Zack dropped his forehead into his hands in despair.
Cloud scoffed. "Well, have you got any better names?"
Zack shook his head. "Isn't it degrading of you to name your... 'female companion'? Surely she has a name of her own?"
"She probably does, but I don't speak bird!" Cloud said angrily.
"Speak bird...? Cloud!" Zack was horrified. "I didn't know you thought like this!"
"And I thought you were my friend! Now you're making me get rid of the only thing that makes me feel comfortable in this place?"
"... 'thing'?" After a pause Zack rubbed his temples. Cloud was not backing down. "Listen, buddy. I know how tough it is training for SOLDIER. At times I... I've sought out, er, professional comfort too. But you can't bring her back to the barracks and live with her. You're affecting my chances of promotion!"
"Hooter is my friend and I love her and she loves me!"
Zack sighed with frustration. "I'm not denying that, Cloud. I'm not even denying you her. Just not in the barracks."
Cloud looked down a the floor with big blue, heart-wrenchingly sorrowful eyes. "I... I know it's illegal. I'm just... I get lonely and-and I hate Granville so much," he shook his fists immaturely.
"It's okay, I'd hate your roommate too," Zack nodded in understanding. "You... haven't caught anything have you? I could get medical—"
"I caught her?" Cloud interrupted.
Zack smiled sadly. "Of course you did, buddy. 'course you did."
"I did!" Cloud persisted impudently.
Zack wrapped his strong arms around Cloud in a friendly gesture. "It's okay, Spikey. I know it has nothing to do with money. She loves you."
"Yeah, she does... wait, money? What?"
With a sigh Zack took Cloud's shoulders with his hands and looked him sternly in the eye. Whoever guessed that he'd be explaining the business of prostitution to his teenage friend had just won the jackpot. Which was nobody because nobody was supposed to get into these situations.
"A lady of the night will stay with you as long as you're paying for her. You understand this right?"
Cloud was utterly speechless. The only thing that came out of his mouth was: "ah-buh?!"
Zack crushed what he assumed to be a heartbroken Cloud to his chest tightly and hugged him for all he was worth. It really sucked being dumped, especially after paying for it.
"I'm sorry, Spikey. Someone had to tell you."
Cloud pushed him away in horror and to Zack's worried surprise. "Hooter is a bird!" he shouted.
Zack felt like crying for his best friend. So lonely, so broken, so insistent. He reached out again, offering his hand for comfort in the same way Angeal had taught him. But Cloud jumped away from him as if he had spontaneously combusted.
"Hooter is a bird!" Cloud reiterated desperately.
"I know, buddy."
"I can't believe you!" Cloud yelled, throwing an ungainly punch that didn't connect anyway. "You really think I pick up—oh, my god! Hooter is a bird!"
He shoved passed his best friend without looking back.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Cloud slammed the office door so hard it rattled on its hinges.
"Those mako boosters are taking affect already, I see."
Cloud just about swallowed his own tongue when he saw who was talking to him. At the implication he turned back to look at the door and noticed it had suffered a large crack in its wooden surface. Merely cosmetic damage, but to think he almost had the strength to break a door in two threatened to force the goofiest grin onto his face. Then he turned back to Sephiroth and all his blood ran south instead.
"I see Fair still lacks the ability to reprimand his students."
Cloud frowned.
"I apologise for eavesdropping," Sephiroth said, but with a tone that suggested he couldn't actually give less of a frig. "You were shouting very loud."
Cloud could only imagine what enhanced hearing could do for accidentally overhearing a whole lot of private information. He certainly wouldn't want to hear about what President Shinra did at the Honeybee Inn, or what favourite brand of toilet paper Heideggar liked. He took a discreet gulp and launched himself into his excuses. "I'm sorry if we disturbed you, sir. I have a problem with—"
"You have been bringing questionable company into the barracks," Sephiroth interrupted rudely, because he could get away with doing that because c'mon.
"No, I—how much did you hear?"
"Money exchanged hands. Are you aware that is illegal behaviour?"
"Hooter is a bird," Cloud practically sobbed despite himself.
"So I hear."
"An owl! Hooter is an owl."
Sephiroth stopped as if processing this information, and Cloud hung onto that silence hopefully. "Is that slang? I'm afraid I'm not educated in each regional dialect of Midgar."
Cloud flopped down helplessly.
"Hooter is an owl I rescued. She flew into my window and I saved her. I-I know it's illegal to keep pets in our quarters, but she definitely isn't a prostitute! Zack is an idiot and I am going to beat him so hard next time we play Battleship he'll be having nightmares about F10."
If Cloud didn't know any better he'd think that Sephiroth were amused by this.
"You're keeping an owl in your quarters," Sephiroth said for clarification.
Solemnly, Cloud nodded. "Yes, sir."
There was another pause and Cloud watched his General carefully as the man blatantly considered him. If only Cloud could have known what was going through that brilliant tactical mind.
It was this: "This weed of a child is Officer Cadet Cloud."
"That is not polite."
"Pfff."
"I feel like I know him somehow."
"Well I should hope so. He's Zack's friend."
"You see him training with Angeal sometimes."
"Bit early to be going senile yet, buddy."
"Not that. He seems dangerous somehow."
"Really? Really?"
"Look at him!"
"His head is huge! He looks top heavy."
"And those feet look like the belong on a flamingo."
"Don't breathe too much or you may flatten him."
"Wait, what was the original problem?"
"Oh, the bird."
"An owl, not a prostitute."
"Well, Angeal did tell you to stop being such a bastard to the cadets."
"This is one of those times, right?"
"I will admit to not being good at this."
"Gotta start somewhere!"
"In that case, probably should've started with that cadet who got his head trapped in the photocopier."
"Well... yeah."
Cloud was startled out of his own thoughts as Sephiroth suddenly cleared his throat.
The General coughed awkwardly before speaking; "I think, under the circumstances, I may have been rendered temporarily deaf throughout this conversation."
"Sir?" Cloud stared.
"I haven't heard anything about any cadet keeping an owl in their quarters."
"Sir!" Cloud grinned despite himself.
"It is not like," Sephiroth continued for some unknown reason, "any other high ranking officers are harbouring a pet cat named Grímnir."
Understanding dawning upon him, Cloud nodded wickedly. "It'll be our dirty little secret."
Sephiroth merely performed a perfect impression of Hooter and cocked his head to one side, making Cloud weak in the knees.
"Uh! I mean 'cause birds are dirty," he struggled to not say anything stupid. "They poop everywhere, ha, ha, ha..."
And without another word Sephiroth turned back into his office.
Cloud stared after the closed door for a heart-stopping minute. "OH, MY GOD! Did I just say 'poop' to the General? Fuck my life!"
With numb legs he tore away down the hall to get away from this wretched hallway of offices and bad luck. He ran all the way on wobbly, unreliable legs to the lift and jabbed at any random numbers on the keypad, probably annoying all the people already in the lift now that it had to stop on a whole bunch of unneeded floors.
"You are the biggest idiot," Head-Zack laughed in his ear.
"YOU are the biggest idiot!" Cloud responded. "You thought I was keeping a prostitute!"
"That wasn't me," Zack defended flatly. "I'm dead."
"Yes, it was," Head-Aerith assured him gleefully. "It's one-hundred percent you. You're the idiot."
"Yeah, alright," Zack sighed in defeat. "Some of us just have off days okay..."
As Cloud stood bracing himself up on one arm and trying to regain his breath and dilute his face to a more healthy colour, another boy his age approached the lift. He was taller than Cloud, but skinnier with a definite lanky stature, a rumpled and untidy uniform, and ungroomed red hair. The boy looked at him with no shame and opened his mouth.
"So I hear you're shacking up with a hooker, yo," Reno said.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
a/n: This was a weird one, huh? What can I say? Nothing. Except: and with that, I beg you enjoyed this latest instalment—it was quite dull. You should review and regale me with stories of how your pet has been mistaken for a prostitute. I bet there was egg on your face!