1Summary: One-shot. CloudxVincent. Ice cream – napkins shounen-ai, in a fangirl's world.

xxxxxx

"Are you coming or not?"

There's a grumble of annoyance and a sigh and I laugh, glancing over my shoulder to give him a grin. I can't even believe I got him to come out here, in this heat and the bright sun. I was expecting him to at least stare at me like I've gone insane before walking away, like he has a tendency to do. Damned antisocial prick.

Of course, I suppose sleeping in a coffin in a basement for thirty years could make you a little antisocial, so I'll leave him alone about that.

For now, at least. That'll be our next project; make Vincent Valentine talk a little bit more, other than his random bursts of information that still kind of give me the creeps.

"Why do we have to go out here anyway? It's bright, for one, and too hot–"

"Then take that cape off and you won't be hot anymore. It's your fault that you wear that heavy thing wherever we go." He shoots me a sharp glare over the edge of his collar before pausing, as if in thought. If he really takes that thing off, Planet help me . . .

To my surprise – and mild horror – he reaches up toward the leather buckles that hold the cloak in place, nimble fingers unlatching each one slowly before pulling the cape off of his shoulders and tossing it to one of the chairs that I'd pulled to the side on the beach.

He looks even more beautiful with that thing off, now that I can actually see what he really looks like. Why would he want to cover his face like that all the time anyway . . . ?

Wait. Bad thoughts. Stop the bad thoughts . . .

"Well? Were you planning on just standing there and staring the entire time, or are we going to actually do something?" Dammit, I was staring, and judging by the small smirk that crosses his lips he can defiantly tell why. Turning away from him to prevent anything like that from happening again and I frown, trying to think of something to do.

We could always go swimming or something . . .

Nah, I highly doubt I could get his musty ass in a bathing suit even if I tried to dress him myself.

Bad thoughts! Change the topic, now.

Shaking my head (and successfully pushing back those thoughts) I glance around the area for some sign of something to do. Swimming is out of the question, and I don't think he wants to just stand around here and stare at each other, although I wouldn't entirely mind that idea . . .

"I've got it! Wait right here, okay? I'll be back in a second." He casts me a curious glance and I give him a brief smile, holding up a hand and pointing to where he had tossed his cape a moment before. Curious he sits down patiently and I turn around, dashing off of the beach. Why didn't I think of it sooner? I mean, who couldn't like ice cream? Even Vincent has to.

Coming into the main street of Costa de Sol I pause, glancing about the area before spotting the elusive ice cream shop. The man there gives me a skeptic glance, as if debating on if I'm a customer or not, and I notice him staring at my eyes and then my clothes.

Yes, they glow. It happens.

Yes, I've known that they glow. I'm not an idiot.

No, I'm not with the Shin-Ra. Do I look like it?

And no, I'm not going to change my clothes; I happen to be quite attached to them. So bite me.

"What would you like?" He raises an eyebrow at me and I roll my eyes, annoyed with this thorough inspection of every aspect of me and more than willing to just get the hell away from him.

"Two vanilla ice cream cones." I cast a glare at him as he frowns and he turns around quickly, fumbling with the cones and quickly returning with my order. I suppose I can have that effect on people; receiving a glare from a person with more Mako in their system than someone in SOLDIER can all ways be a little unnerving, I guess.

Not that I'd know, really.

Reaching into my pocket I drop the right amount of gil onto the table, not caring to wait for him to count out the change and confident that I dropped at least enough for multiple ice cream cones – I'm feeling a little generous today, whatever . . . – and taking the ice cream back toward the beach. Hopefully Vincent was patient enough to wait for me . . .

Please tell me he's still there, please tell me he's still there . . .

To my surprise I walk over to find Vincent sitting in the same spot that I left him, squinting against the bright sunlight and watching me with his typical curious glance as if trying to figure out what was so important that I had to get up and leave for.

"Here. Ice cream." To answer his stare I reach out a hand toward him, showing him the small cone and offering him the best of my grins – which I've been told is kind of scary, but it has to be better than the grimaces that he calls smiles – and nudging at him to take it. "Look, it won't bite. It's good, and it'll help you stay cool so you don't pass out from heat exhaustion on me." He gives me a final wary glance before reaching a slender hand toward it, taking it from my grip and glancing down at it instead of me.

". . . It's already melting. You took too long." I roll my eyes at him, moving to sit down on the chair next to his and starting eating my own ice cream as it begins to melt down my hand.

"Yeah, well, when the vendor decides to ask you fifty stupid questions just for two orders, that kind of thing happens. It means you have to eat it faster then." He snorts, turning his head away and starting on his own treat, a smile faintly curving onto his lips that I think he didn't mean for me to see. I stop eating for a minute, glancing at him in surprise.

He's smiling. Not grimacing, not smirking, but smiling. I don't think I've ever seen him smile before and I just watch it, appreciating the fact that he really can smile, despite what popular belief may be.

As if noticing my inspection of him, he turns back to face me, raising an eyebrow at me and nodding his head down toward my hand. Confused for a moment I glance down as well before letting out a muffled curse, the sticky mess having made its way over my glove and onto my lap. "Dammit . . ."

"That's what you get for not eating it fast enough." He smirks at me now – I almost miss his smile, but I think I'm too angry to notice – and laughs lightly, something I've never really heard much of either. Dammit, if it weren't for Sephiroth we could do something like this more often . . .

"Hah. Ha ha ha." I growl at him as I toss the remainder of my ruined ice cream somewhere randomly on the beach, peeling off the now sticky glove and tossing it next to me on the sand.

That was a mess.

Turning to him I notice that he's already finished off his cone as well and I shake my head, a little disappointed that this probably means he's going to get up and head back into his hole now. Judging by the way that he shifts before glancing over at me I can tell that he really does want to head back to the villa that we managed to buy (I managed to buy, thank you very much) and out of this heat. Sighing I shake my head sadly. Why can't he just stay outside and have a little bit of fun . . . ?

Wait a second . . .

I smirk slightly as he turns back to face me, mouth opening as if to tell me what I already know he's going to say and I can't resist but lean forward a little, wrapping my hand through his hair and tugging our lips together. He gives of a startled gasp but apart from that doesn't try to shove me away. Which is good. I think.

But please don't shoot me. Please don't shoot me, don't shoot me . . .

Not wanting to push my luck anymore and a little embarrassed that I actually did that without giving it much thought I break away from him, scooting out of my chair and taking a few steps back. Why did I try that again? Why?

He gives me a strange glance, tilting his head to the side and staring at me for what seems like an eternity, his eyebrow finally rising in his classic manner as I run a hand through my hair in nervousness.

"What . . . ?"

"You had ice cream on your lip. I didn't have any napkins, so . . . Yeah, anyway, it's getting kinda late and I need to make sure that Yuffie makes it back in one piece, you know? So, see you later!" I can tell that he doesn't buy my shitty excuse to leave but I'm not eager to stick behind and explain myself any further than that, turning away from him and dashing toward the exit of the beach.

"Cloud!"

Please don't shoot me.

"Yeah?"

Please don't shoot me . . .

"That was . . . fun. We should do it again."

Please don't–

"What?" I pause in my escape, turning to give him a wide-eyed expression of utter horror and confusion. Fun? Vincent Valentine thought something was fun? "Y-Yeah, I guess we will." Even more flustered at my act of bravery – or stupidity, I've been told that they're about the same thing – because of his comment I turn and run faster toward the villa, making a mental note to myself that Vincent really does like vanilla ice cream.

And I think I do now too.

But hell if I ever try something like that again . . .

xxxxxx

Another one of my weird one-shots that I've been writing recently. The idea came to me during summer gym, when I was overheating and desperately wanted a nice cone of vanilla ice cream. Alas, Vincent and Cloud, how I love thee . . .

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, Square-Enix does.