Oysters

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Cid/Vincent, Erestor/Glorfindel, Blackbird/Moonhound.
Warnings: Cid, Cid’s mouth.
Summary: Cid makes an impression on Dargothian society.
Notes: A crossover fic for silvarbelle. Sorry it took so long, hon.

“Baby, there’s an enormous crowd of people,
and they’re all after my blood…”
-- Three Dog Night, ‘The Show Must Go On.’

The three sat together in the parlour of Blackbird’s expansive White Palace apartments, drinking tea, saying very little. It was a comfortable room; cool in the summer heat, the huge windows open wide, the white lace curtains blowing gently in the breeze. The silence likewise was comfortable, the three men in the room enjoying their tea together, gazing out the window as Glorfindel and Cid gathered around a mighty gold and red machine. Master Erestor sighed quietly.

“I understand Glorfindel being fascinated by Arrowsmith’s machine, but honestly Elves are not natural mechanics.”

“One can but hope they are natural runners,” said Blackbird. “If Arrowsmith catches him with Harley I shudder to think of the consequences. He’s very attached to that bike.”

Vincent said nothing, merely seated, or rather huddled, in a large chair. Unlike Erestor he had not been to Dargoth before, and was not entirely certain what he was doing there now, other than Cid’s airship appeared to have taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque. The Dargothians had proved to be gentle and civilized folk, however. They were taken in, fed, housed, and made welcome. They were told they would be able to leave once a certain gate between the two worlds opened, and that would be in only a short while. In the meantime they were invited to make themselves at home in the enormous opal-white palace.

Vincent sipped his tea and watched Cid help the tall silver-blonde Elf they called Glorfindel fuss with the motorcycle. The thing appeared to be sentient, and not at all pleased by the attention.

“It won’t attack, will it?” asked Vincent.

“Well that all depends,” said Blackbird. “Harley has a very forgiving personality but he’s not fond of strangers probing his bits.”

“Well that just goes without saying,” said Erestor, watching as the great red and gold motorcycle made an angry rumble. “Few people care to have their bits publicly probed.”

“So is the motorcycle alive?” asked Vincent.

“Yes and no,” said Blackbird. “It began as a simple machine, but due to several complex enchantments it now has a sense of self, and awareness, and survival. Harley is intelligent. I’m not certain exactly how intelligent, but certainly smart enough to let his feelings be known.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow, watching Cid stalk the annoyed bike. He knew Cid would never believe the thing was genuinely alive. He would want to get into its brain and figure out the programming that made it behave this way. Meanwhile Erestor smiled as Glorfindel tried to attract the beast’s attention with some oats. Harley could not be bribed with mere grain. His engine was used to only the best gasolines and motor oils. Grains gave him indigestion.

“More tea?” Blackbird held up the pot.

“Please,” said Erestor.

“Vincent?”

“Thank you.”

Blackbird poured them each some more tea from the china pot with its delicate silver designs, then helped himself to a small cake. They continued to watch the show as The Moonhound arrived in the yard to find out what Cid and Glorfindel were up to. Vincent sighed heavily.

“Goodbye Cid, it was nice knowing you.”

Blackbird gave Vincent a look of curiosity. “Why are you saying goodbye to him?”

“Cid can be a bit of a… well… sexist asshole.”

“Well that’s not good,” said Erestor.

The three watched as Cid and The Moonhound exchanged words. Then he said something that shut her up cold and she blinked, utterly at a loss for one of the few times in her life. Then she abruptly shape-shifted into a gigantic winged silver-grey wolf and lunged after him. Screaming, Cid fled for his life… only to discover there was nowhere to which he could run. Cid began doing laps around the garden, chased by a wolf and a motorcycle.

“I should probably go help him,” said Vincent.

“He’s got Glorfindel,” said Erestor. “He once fought a Balrog, he should be able to fend off a wolf warrior.”

Blackbird raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Glorfindel leapt between Cid and the wolf, drawing his sword and screaming something in Elvish as suddenly he was enveloped in a great white light. The wolf stopped, eyes huge, ears and tail erect in surprise. For the briefest of moments, she seemed daunted. Then she darted forward and caught him by the boot. Moments later Glorfindel, Balrog-Slayer of the House of the Golden Flower was being dragged around the garden on his noble ass by his left ankle. Cid gave chase, swearing and yelling threats, Harley bringing up the rear. Erestor sighed.

“It’s times like these that make me so appreciative of the fact that it is not my job to do the laundry.”

“Cid does his own laundry,” said Vincent. “Good thing, too. I don’t like handling toxic waste.”

“Me either,” said Blackbird. “You would not believe the things my darling wife gets covered in.”

“I’m willing to bet I would,” said Erestor dryly, sipping his tea as a massive wolf galloped past the open window, dragging a screaming Elf and pursued by a swearing human armed with a lance, followed by a motorcycle.

“I’ll be sad to leave,” said Vincent.

“Oh you can always come back,” said Blackbird. “I’ll give you a travel crystal.”

“Thank you,” said Vincent. “I’d like to visit once in a while.”

The wolf dropped Glorfindel, lazily bounding around the garden, chased by Cid, keeping a close eye on the two-legged creature chasing her. Suddenly she turned abruptly and darted forward and clamped her jaws down on Cid’s lance, ripping it out of his hand and leaping over the stone wall of the garden, heading off like a dog with a stick. Cid unleashed a veritable flood of profanity and threats that made Glorfindel flinch.

“It’s really rather sad that Cid can’t turn into something or glow brightly when he’s angry,” said Blackbird.

Cid swore, screamed and kicked the garden wall.

“He’d never be human again,” said Vincent dryly.

“Forgive my forwardness, but I must ask,” said Erestor. “What do you see in him?”

“Cid’s an oyster,” said Vincent fondly. “All hard shell and sharp edges on the outside, inside nothing but softness and pearls.”

“Awww… isn’t that sweet?” said Erestor. “He’s delusional!”

“If he is then so are we,” said Blackbird. He looked up as an enormous wolf paraded into the room, head and tail held high, Cid’s lance clamped firmly in her jaws. “Are we having fun, dear?”

The Moonhound dropped the lance. “Yes, we are.” She looked at Vincent. “The priestesses of the Moon Goddess tell me that the gate shall be open within the hour.”

“I’m sorry about Cid,” said Vincent. “He’s… Cid.”

“He’s lucky he’s still male after what just came out of his mouth,” said the great wolf. “I’ve eaten people for things like that.”

“Dare I ask what he said?” inquired Blackbird.

The Moonhound repeated the comment. Blackbird’s jaw dropped.

“I’ll fry him.”

“Oh please don’t, it will be very difficult scraping the stains off the tiles,” said The Moonhound.

“No one insults my wife and gets away with it! To quote our own dear Arrowsmith; somebody needs a curb-kick. Where’s my staff?”

“Darling please don’t make me kill Cid because he kicked your ass.”

“I killed Berengar, I can kill this nitwit too!”

“Blackbird if you kill him then we’ll just owe Vincent a replacement and I think he’s attached to the model he has.”

Blackbird’s tiny body exuded outrage. “He called you a…”

“Yes we all heard the word,” said Erestor. “But Blackbird, the man has three children with Vincent. No matter how crude and boorish he may be, the man has a family that needs him. We could perhaps hold a council to discuss the matter…”

“NO!” exclaimed Blackbird and The Moonhound emphatically.

“I can’t let you hurt my husband,” said Vincent.

Blackbird softened slightly. “No, of course not. But I am sure had my wife called Cid such a name you would be no more pleased that I am.”

“I understand, but… I love him. He’s a good man even if he doesn’t seem like it. As I said, he’s an oyster. And he has a family that needs him and friends that love him.”

Blackbird sighed quietly. “Very well. But you may wish to speak to him after this. Had he insulted Master Erestor here I assure you that Glorfindel would have done a good deal more than steal his lance. Your husband may be a warrior of no mean skill, but he is surrounded by warriors no less powerful than he, and who bear insult not at all.”

“I understand,” said Vincent. “And I apologise. Thank you for your kindness. I’ll round up Cid and be on our way.”

Vincent rose to his feet and walked over to the great glass windows, stepping onto the low stone balcony that was little more than a foot off the ground.

“Cid it’s time to go. The gate is open.”

“I can’t go yet! A big-ass wolf just stole my lance!”

The Moonhound looked over her shoulder and down at her butt, puzzled.

“The lance is in here, Cid,” said Vincent. “Come along.”

Cid stepped over the low railing and onto the balcony. “All right, all right, hang onto your panties. I wish I could have got a look at that bike’s brain, though.”

“I think Harley likes his brain where it is, Cid. Say goodbye to Glorfindel.”

“Keep talking to me like I’m four and I’ll turn you over my knee.”

“Stop acting like you’re four and I’ll stop talking to you like you’re four.”

“Too much effort. Later, Fin. If you’re ever on Gaia drop on by.”

“I shall be honoured and delighted.”

Cid walked into the sitting room, looking around. “Well thanks for all your help. We would have been stuck here forever without you, and frankly a planet where technology is banned is my idea of Hell.”

“You’re welcome,” said Blackbird dryly.

“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Erestor.”

“That’s Master Erestor.”

“Yeah yeah. Thank you, Blackbird. See ya later, Shasti.”

The Moonhound looked at Blackbird. “Get him, honey.”

The little wizard was only too happy to oblige. There was a smell like impending rain and a loud crackle of electricity, then the entire room was enveloped in white light. Vincent screamed, but there was nothing he could do. It was already too late.

***---***

Vincent Valentine held the wheel of the Highwind, guiding the massive ship slowly through the great gate that would take them back to Gaia. It was a good thing Cid had taught him how to fly the ship; they would never have been able to get home otherwise. Not after what had happened to Cid.

Vincent glanced to his left at the small salt-water aquarium, hastily set up with sand and sea water and a little air pump that looked like a pirate’s treasure chest. Within it sat an exceptionally large and crusty oyster. Despite having nothing even remotely resembling facial features, it somehow managed to convey a sense of profound annoyance very clearly.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” said Vincent.