Cid the Flasher
Sequel to 'There's Always Someone Tougher'

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Spiders. Inappropriate use of a head scarf.
Summary: Vincent’s simple act of chivalry has consequences for Cid.
Notes: This fic is the sequel to 'There's Always Someone Tougher'. If you haven't read that, this one will confuse you. Click here to go read the first part.

This story has not one, but two accompanying illustrations done by Animama.

They had decided to stay in the hotel a little while, to give Vincent time to recover from his ordeal, and to bask in the glory of being the heroes who had freed a small village from a pack of vicious murderers who had terrorized their little community for the better part of a year. The group was on a timeline, and they knew it, but, for the moment, it was nice to be appreciated.

Vincent had been given his own room. Not because he had asked, but because Cid could sense he very much wanted some time alone, and Cid would do anything he could to make Vincent happy.

“C’mon, Cid, you’re paying for him to have his own room and you haven’t even been kissed yet!” said Yuffie, watching him register for Vincent’s room. “You’re gonna end up having to buy him a house just to get a quick grope.”

“Some people are worth the effort.” Cid looked at Yuffie and gave her that wicked grin of his. “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”

Yuffie punched him in the shoulder.

Vincent meanwhile enjoyed his peace, sleeping the day away, watching old movies and drawing at night. He didn’t understand the fuss, really. But his well-being seemed to be of interest to Cid. May as well let him fuss. He would likely get over it soon enough.

It was the second to the last night of their little break, at ten thirty at night. Someone had sent sushi and green tea to his room, and Vincent knew who it was. He decided that, tomorrow night, he would invite Cid up, and they would have dinner together. There was no point in doing it tonight; Cid, Cloud and Barret were out at the pub. Judging from the giggling and carrying on he heard next door, the female members of their intrepid group of adventurers had elected to stay in.

Vincent ate his sushi and checked the channel listing, realizing Cid had paid for him to get any channel he liked. Vincent sighed, then laughed quietly, briefly.

“I get the hint, Cid. You like me. I like you too.”

Vincent suddenly shot to his feet as from the room next door he heard a choir of shrieks. He snatched up his gun and ran to the room, bursting in, gun levelled, pausing as he saw Tifa, Yuffie, and Aeris on the bed in full chorus, and all three of them half undressed. Tifa in fact was soaking wet and soapy and wearing only a hand towel. The night was looking up. He shook his head and told himself he could ogle later.

“What?” he asked, and all three of them pointed, each in a different direction. Vincent looked, and sighed, holstering his gun.

“Spiders? You must be kidding.”

“They’re everywhere!” cried Yuffie.

Vincent snorted. “I’m sorry, aren’t you the same three people who came running after a gang of rapists and murderers the other night?”

“Totally different,” said Tifa. “Rapists don’t have eight legs.”

“No but they do lurk in the corner and stare at you though,” said Aeris.

A truly huge spider scooted across the floor. Vincent bent to deftly catch it with his claws, leaving it unharmed. He showed it to the women.

“He’s more afraid of you than you are of him.”

The screaming could shatter glass. He sighed and shook his head, ignoring the spider as it ran up into his hair.

“Let’s do this then. Since your room is clearly infested, you can take my room. And I will sleep here. I am not bothered by spiders.”

Tifa, Aeris and Yuffie exchanged glances, clearly beginning to feel a little silly. “No, it’s okay, Vincent,” said Tifa. “You’re right. We fight monsters and murderers, we can deal with HOLY SHIT IT’S IN MY TOWEL! YEE-GADS!”

She threw her towel and fled past him, naked. Vincent watched her go by, then sighed. So much for his nice room with cable.

“Just let me get my supper,” he said, and walked out.

He entered his room to find Tifa wrapped in his cape, her face nearly as red as the fabric.

“I’m really sorry,” she said. “Just let me get into a towel and I’ll pass you back the cape.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just give it back when we leave.”

She smiled. “Thanks. So nice to have a gentleman in the group.”

Vincent began packing up his things. “Well I’m not going to pretend I did not watch you run by.”

She looked surprised. “Oh I didn’t realize you liked girls.”

“Cid is… my first man.”

Tifa melted. “Oh that’s so sweeeet!” She blushed again. “Sorry. I’m a hopeless romantic.

“That’s fine. The world could use more.”

He gathered up his few belongings, and went next door to the spider-infested room. Yuffie and Aeris slunk by him, embarrassed by their actions, but not so much they were staying in the room. Vincent closed the door quietly, then opened the window and began catching spiders.

In the next room, Tifa had rinsed off and changed into her usual sleeping wear, which was an old t-shirt of Cloud’s and underwear. She sat on the bed and once more pulled Vincent’s cape around herself, stroking it.

“Feels odd,” she said.

“Well god only knows what’s ground into the fabric,” said Yuffie. “It did lie thirty years in a coffin with him.

Tifa ran her hand over it, then drew it close, sniffing it. “Doesn’t feel dirty. And it smells like…” She sniffed again, then held it out to Aeris. “What’s that smell?”

Aeris took hold of a bit of the red fabric and sniffed. “I have no idea. It’s a nice smell, though. Bit like chamomile. Feels nice, too. Soft. Feels… like leather, oddly enough. Too bad none of us can sew, we could fix it for him.”

Tifa held up the cloak. “Aeris the only way we could fix this is to get him a new one. I wonder why he keeps it? I mean it’s so torn!”

“Sentimental value, maybe?” suggested Aeris.

“Hey guys,” whispered Yuffie. “Look what I found!” She stood up, holding a black book that had been sitting between the bed and the nightstand, forgotten for the moment by its owner. She opened it. “I bet it’s his book of spells or something.”

“Yuffie put that back!” hissed Tifa, mindful that Vincent was just next door, and he had very sharp hearing.

“I just wanna look!” Yuffie whispered.

“It could be a diary!” whispered Aeris. “Put. It. BACK!”

“Yeah well it might be but fat lot of good it does us.” Yuffie showed them the pages of hand writing. “It’s in another language.”

“Well that’s no fun,” muttered Aeris. Tifa elbowed her.

Yuffie looked through a few more pages, then showed them a drawing. It was very simple, and very well done, a few lines conveying the layers of emotion that was Cloud Strife. He was dirty and dusty, wearing his travel-weary clothes, sharpening the blade of his sword. Beside him, Nanaki flopped on his side, exhausted.

“He’s good,” said Aeris.

She reached out to turn a page, and the three saw themselves, sitting in the grass, caught more realistically in the simple lines than they could ever have been in the finest oil painting. They were eating lunch, talking, while in the background Cait Sith leapt after a butterfly. Vincent’s style of drawing was rather like himself; to the point and rife with implication. Aeris swore there were things in the background of the drawing, but she could only see some smudges and shadows, implying there was more out there than met the eye.

Yuffie turned one more page, and found Cid. This drawing was not a simple sketch. This was Vincent’s talents at the fullest, and he caught the pilot brilliantly. Cid was standing, smoking, leaning on his lance. He was dirty and strong and masculine, and they could almost smell the cigarettes and engine grease. Every nuance was caught, every line lovingly detailed, from the glint in his eyes to the way the fabric of his pants followed the line of his muscled legs. The whole picture reeked of sex and want.

“Oh my,” said Tifa.

“Warm in here, isn’t it?” said Aeris, fanning herself with her hand.

“We have to get these two together,” said Yuffie.

“Yuffie let them work it out on their own,” said Tifa.

“But they won’t!” said Yuffie. “Cid’s a jackass and Vincent doesn’t talk unless he absolutely can’t think of a hand gesture to get his point across.”

“We still shouldn’t be playing matchmaker,” said Tifa. “It never ends well.”

“I’m not gonna play matchmaker, I’m… just gonna give them a nudge.” Yuffie picked up the red cloak. “C’mere, raggy.”

“Yuffie… I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yuffie laid the cloak out on the bed, then took Vincent’s head scarf and linked it through one of the buckles. She then took a piece of hotel stationary and wrote on it; “Come find me.” She pinned the note to the cloak, and left the room, returning in only a few minutes without it.

“I put it on Cid’s bed,” said Yuffie.

“Vincent is not going to be pleased to be woken up late at night by a drunk,” said Aeris.

“I have a feeling that if Cid wakes him up, he won’t care what time it is,” said Yuffie.

***---***

Cid, Barret and Cloud stumbled in at three-twenty in the morning, roaring drunk, all more or less carrying each other. They stumbled and staggered their way to their room, whereupon Cloud made it as far as the middle of the room before passing out.

“Can’t hold his liquor,” muttered Barret, and sat down on the bed to remove his boots. He immediately passed out with his fingers in the laces.

Cid hiccupped. “Can’t none of ya hold yer liquor,” he muttered. “Once again, Cid Highwind is the only real man in the room.”

He turned to stagger towards his own bed, and stopped, noticing something red lying across it. He lurched over to the bed, and picked up the long red tattered cloak, holding it up, then drawing it close to breathe in the scent of its owner.

“How’d this get here?” he asked himself, and held it up once more. This time he spied the note, and read it, puzzled. “‘Come find me’?” Then a slow grin spread over his face. “Oh yeah. I’ll come find you all right.”

Cid put the cloak down and began taking his clothes off.

***---***

Vincent was sitting on his bed, wearing a black bathrobe, a pair of socks, and a pair of fuzzy slippers that belonged to Tifa. He wasn’t normally a fuzzy slipper sort of guy, but his feet were cold, and when he saw the purple things, boasting felt horns and teeth and looking an awful lot like one of his other forms, he couldn’t resist. He was damp from just coming out of the shower, and was cleaning Cerberus as he watched some dreadful old black and white movie.

He paused, and listened, hearing some sort of erratic stumbling and staggering in the hallway, and the noise of a body hitting a wall. The footsteps took a wandering route that eventually led to the door beside his. He heard a polite tap, and resumed cleaning. Likely it was Cloud, though he couldn’t think for one moment what he would want to say to Tifa at this hour of the morning. Then he realized that the person in the hall was not knocking on Tifa’s door. He thought he was knocking on Vincent’s door.

Vincent set aside his gun and got off the bed, walking towards the door. He had nearly reached it when he heard Tifa, Aeris and Yuffie screaming their heads off. Vincent threw the door open and stepped into the hall and froze, mortified, as he saw Cid in the hallway, stark naked save for Vincent’s red cloak, and his head scarf tied in a bow around his…

Vincent fought an urge to scream himself.

Cid was frantically apologizing. “Sorry! REALLY sorry! I didn’t know it was you guys, I was looking for… oh CRAP!” he exclaimed as he noticed Vincent in the doorway of the next room. He took a step towards him, accidentally treading on the scarf. It came undone and fluttered to the floor. The screams rose in pitch and volume. Vincent slammed the door and bolted it, leaving Cid to beat a hasty retreat back to his own room, dodging the coffee cup Yuffie threw at him.

“AND DON’T COME BACK YOU PERVERT!”

Vincent made it to the middle of his room before collapsing on the floor, laughing so hard he had tears running from his eyes, at least some of his amusement sparked by how incredibly embarrassing the whole incident had been. Poor Cid. He’d never be able to show his face in this hotel again.

Eventually Vincent dragged himself off the floor and over to the bed, seating himself on the bed and picking up his gun to finish cleaning it, having to stop periodically as he began giggling helplessly.

***---***

It was not until the day they departed that any of them saw Cid again. Where he had gone, they were not sure, but he had been invisible. They were gathered in the restaurant, having breakfast before hitting the road, when Cid showed up, looking very subdued and carrying Vincent’s cloak and head scarf. He passed them to him.

“Here. I... uh… washed them. I’ll… be outside.”

Vincent accepted the cape and scarf, and watched Cid scuttle off.

“You’re going to wear that, knowing where it’s been?” said Yuffie.

Vincent looked at Yuffie with red eyes. “You know, I could have sworn I loaned these to Tifa. Any thoughts on how they ended up on Cid’s bed?”

Yuffie blushed and hunkered down in her seat. “Nope, not a one.”

Vincent put on his scarf, and his cloak, and left the restaurant, finding Cid outside, smoking. He walked up to him, reaching out to take Cid’s hand.

“I feel so stupid,” muttered Cid.

“I wouldn’t. I loaned my cloak to Tifa. I’m willing to bet Yuffie put it on your bed, in which case she got what she deserved.”

“So… that note saying ‘find me’ wasn’t from you?”

Vincent could not miss the sadness and disappointment in Cid’s voice. He stepped closer, Cid’s large hand in his, and kissed his face softly.

“No. But the next one you get will be.”