This happened between 1am and 3am. Don't hold it against me. I actually kind of like how it turned out.

Okay, so I don't own these guys, Tifa's party, or Cid's airship.

Rated for Cid's pottymouth and references to yaoi, which I just couldn't resist throwing in here, even though it doesn't really relate to the story.

Vincent was thinking he'd be better off walking back to Kalm. The ignorant airship pilot and sailor's mouth were just about driving him crazy. He was wondering how he ended up on the airship in the first place, and, more specifically, why he had gone anywhere without his cloak.

Right. That mixer party Tifa had somehow convinced him to go to. She had told him to wear normal clothes. He'd argued that it was stupid for him dress differently than he normally did at a party that was all about getting to know each other, but she hadn't listened.

The question was this- why had he listened? He could easily have told her he didn't want to go, or promised to be there and just not shown up. So why had he gone? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that it had bordered on being a disaster (that wasn't a big surprise; she'd invited Rude, so Reno had come along, and we all know what happens when you mix Reno with alcohol) and that he was now somehow in Cid's airship and was listening to the man's increasingly erratic humming and trying to fight away a headache that may or may not have been an early hangover.

He was less than thrilled about all this. In fact, the entire party had been less than thrilling for him. Technically, it had all started a week ago when he'd gotten a message from Cloud.

"Hey, Vincent, I didn't expect you to answer. I'm not sure if you know how to check your messages" -Vincent snorted. What did Cloud think he was, an idiot? It had only taken him…well we won't go there. But he knew how to check his messages, damn it!-"but I'll leave this anyway. I'm just calling to warn you that Tifa's planning another party, and since you gave her your number, well, you'll probably be getting the call any day now. Thought you could use a heads-up, just in case you wanted to, you know, conveniently make a visit somewhere far away. It's scheduled for the 14th"-he snorted again; that was the day after his birthday-"so you should have enough time to get out. Or you're welcome to stay with me; I'm escaping to the Gold Saucer for the weekend. Um, bye."

For one thing, Vincent was surprised. He'd spent quite a bit of time with Cloud and had rarely heard him say so much all at once, much less actually use his phone. Of course, things had settled down quite a bit, and no one really had much to angst over anymore.

For another thing, he was very grateful to Cloud. He would most certainly be planning a trip, somewhere nice and dark and…far away. He would not, however, even briefly consider joining Cloud at the Saucer.

The call from Tifa came the next day. Vincent didn't know-ahem-hadn't gotten around to storing names and numbers yet, so he answered it on the off-chance that it was something important.

"Hello?"

"Vincent? Hey, it's Tifa! So guess what! I'm having a party on the 14th-"

"Not going."

"Aw, come on, Vince. Please? It'll be fun."

"I'm busy."

"Oh, you, too? Hmm…that's three people already. At this rate it'll only be me and Rude…that won't be so bad, really…no, wait, he'll bring Reno…ew. So, please?"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Apparently she really believed he was sorry, for some reason. Vincent had to stifle a sigh when he heard her next words. "So, what if I change the date? How about the 13th? Is that any better?"

"That's worse, actually. I'm just about booked for a while; you might just want to count on me not being there."

"Oh…what are you doing that's so important?"

Damn it…Vincent struggled for a moment to find an excuse, covering his silence with a cough. "Raising chocobos to sell. I have to be with them every minute, in case something happens. I can't risk losing any."

"Aww, chocobos?" She squealed. Vincent shut his eyes. The only thing worse than pointless chattering was (to him, at least) squealing. "I'll have to come see them sometime! And Barrett was talking about getting one for Marlene's ninth birthday! That's coming up in a few months. Oh, Vincent, I had no idea you even liked chocobos! Do they have names?"

"You know what? I think they just died. Goodbye."

"Wha-"

RING!

Vincent glanced at the number. He wasn't sure who it was, but it wasn't the phone at the Seventh Heaven. He'd committed that one to memory a second ago.

"Hello?"

"Vincent? It's Tifa." What the hell? Did I not just hang up on you? What is your problem?

"What?"

"There never were any chocobos, were there? You just don't want to come, like everyone else. Why doesn't anybody like my parties?" Great. Now she was whining. That scored just below pointless chatter on Vincent's annoying meter.

Because they're always disasters? Because Yuffie always steals something and Reno always throws up on someone? Because we always catch Barrett and Reeve making out once they're drunk? Or is it because we've spent so much time together over the past four and a half years that we're almost all sick of each other? "That's not true, we like them, we're just all very busy people."

"But no one can come and you just blew everyone's cover! Everybody knows about already and they just don't want to come. I bet Cloud called everyone again, I'm gonna-"

"You know what? I'll come, okay?" Just shut up already.

"You will? Really? Then I'm gonna invite some of the regulars and some of the other people Rude works with and-oh, yeah- Vincent? Wear normal clothes, would you? This party's all about making new friends; you wouldn't want to look out of place. Thanks so much! 'Bye!"

Vincent blinked. He wasn't completely clear on what had just happened, but he thought he'd just been insulted, and he was pretty sure Tifa would rat him out when she called everyone back. She had just been waiting for someone to crack, after all, and Vincent had innocently fallen into the trap. He snorted for the third time in this story. Innocent? Ha.

Well, he had gotten roped into going, and there was no turning back…but why? Why didn't he just…not show up? Honestly, he went because had nothing better to do.

He refrained from snorting, because he knew he was doing it excessively. But, he thought, sitting in Cid's airship, there were worse things he could be remembered for.

As the somewhat aged pilot's humming took on a new, somehow lewd tune, Vincent's mind drifted back to the party.

The first thing he realized when leaving for the party was that he didn't have a ride. Yes! A reason not to go! But Tifa had anticipated it; Cloud was waiting at his door. Vincent sighed and Cloud echoed him, clapping the taller man on the back as he led him to certain disaster.

"It won't be so bad. She usually gets fed up and kicks us all out once Reno starts grabbing my ass, right? I'll just have to speed up the process."

"Great plan. I pity your ass."

"It's not so bad. He always makes up for it later."

Vincent almost commented, but decided it would be beneficial to his sanity to leave it alone. He reluctantly climbed onto the bike and grabbed onto the blond in front of him, as he couldn't find a better place to hold on.

The ride there had at least been uneventful, if not necessarily enjoyable.

It was the getting in the door that was the bad part. Well, the beginning of the bad part. No one was there yet other than Yuffie and Tifa, who both pounced on the men as they entered the room.

Yuffie tried to tackle Vincent and found herself on the floor. "Hey, no fair!"

"You attacked me. It's perfectly fair."

"I was trying to hug you."

"In that case, you deserved it even more."

"Heeey…big meanie!"

"Vincent, do I look okay? Do you think anyone else will show up? Do I have enough food?"

"Tifa, you just asked Cloud all the same questions. Don't expect my answers to be any different."

Cloud, who had answered "meh" to everything, was snickering in the corner.

"Don't you dare laugh! If no one else shows up, it's your fault!"

Cloud only laughed harder. Vincent almost joined in, but he knew it would have brought on harpy-like screeching from the hostess, and he didn't feel like hearing it. Luckily, it wasn't long before Rude showed up.

"Finally, someone who'll answer me! Do I look okay? Do you think- oh, half the party's here with you. Is there enough food?"

"You look fine. If you don't have enough, we'll order pizza from the 24-hour place on the corner."

"…I love you."

Rude blushed and stuttered, and was thankfully saved by a bouncy redhead. "Hey, what about me, huh? Do I at least get a hug?"

Tifa was too busy entertaining more important guests to hear him, so he really hadn't done anything at all to save his partner. That didn't leave him feeling any less accomplished.

We were, I believe, discussing Vincent's memories of the party, and so, sadly, we must leave Reno for now. Vincent was standing in the corner when all this happened, trying his hardest to blend in with the wall. He would have succeeded, except for a sudden cry of "Lisa! Come meet Vincent!"

Vincent tried even harder to look like the wall as Tifa led a smaller brunette over to him.

"Vincent, this is Lisa. Lisa, this is Vincent. Talk to each other."

Vincent held out his hand, and the girl-Lori? - shook it. That was all. They didn't speak to each other for the entire hour they sat across from each other. The obvious lack of interest from his "party buddy" gave Vincent the ability to freely observe things he'd rather have missed completely, such as Yuffie groping every guy she could find, and some guys groping her right back, to which she yelled "Sexist! Pervert!" at the top of her lungs. No one paid her any attention-it was a normal occurrence in a Day in the Life of Yuffie's Friends.

After an hour, the girl-Lacy? - across from Vincent got up and examined the buffet table. There was certainly enough food for the small crowd milling around inside the Seventh Heaven. The problem seemed to be that no one, save a few brave souls- seemed to want to eat it. By the look of it, Yuffie had done most of the cooking without Tifa's supervision, probably while Tifa primped in front of the bathroom mirror for eight hours.

Bathroom. To Vincent's body, it sounded like a good idea at the time. He quickly changed his mind when he walked in on the inevitable- Barrett pressing a very drunk Reeve against the wall and trying to eat his face. His body still screamed for the bathroom, so he slipped into an empty stall and relieved himself, then tried to ignore the grunts and groans now issuing from the end stall as he washed his hands.

At the next clock-check, it had only been two hours since Vincent had arrived at the party. It was only ten o'clock. He knew it would have to last at least another half-hour or Tifa would consider it a failure. Not that Vincent particularly cared about the success of the party; it was just that Tifa seemed unable to realize that if a party "failed", it was not a good idea to have another one in the same month.

Vincent was thinking of just leaving, but he remembered he didn't exactly have a ride. He didn't have to wait much longer to leave, though- Reno had just pushed his way to the middle of the dance floor, given Cloud a deep, heated kiss, and grabbed his blond…friend's backside. It was a cue that everyone but Tifa had caught onto over the years.

Part of Vincent sighed in relief; the ordeal was over. The other part realized, as it watched Cloud pull Reno out the door, that he'd just lost his ride.

He had considered hanging around pathetically, but Tifa would invite him to stay, and some of the women and a few of the men would offer to let him stay with them for the night…better to walk home. He started out the door, and a familiar voice had called to him.

"Hey, Valentine! I can give you a lift!" the pilot, who was looking steadily more crushable to Vincent, pointed up to yet another blasted airship, which Vincent assumed was new. "This one here's the Maiden Flight! A little play on words, see?" The man obviously thought himself very clever for that, because he began laughing in that wheezing manner Vincent adored- that is to say, abhorred.

However, it was a long walk back to Kalm, and Vincent was relatively unarmed, having removed his claw along with his cloak for this party.

That was how Vincent came to be on the Maiden Flight, listening to Cid Highwind's erotic-ah, erratic- singing. Yes, it had progressed to singing, and the song was, as Vincent had guessed, quite crude.

"Highwind, shut up."

Cid looked around as though shot, which, considering the circumstances, was not altogether unlikely. A more sober Vincent probably would have shot him, but this slightly buzzed ex-Turk was fairly civil.

"Why, dontcha like the song? I made it up maself! On the spur o' th'moment, too!"

"How surprising. How far are we from Kalm?"

"Uh, Kalm? Quite a ways. Why?"

"Because that is where I live, and where you are supposed to be taking me."

"Uh-oh…"

"You are impossible. You should change course now, so you have time to get home as well."

"No can do, Vam- Vincent! We're more'n halfway across the planet."

"Then I suggest you turn around VERY quickly, to avoid losing any more time."

"Uhh, right! To Kalm it is! Might wanna hold on t'somethin', there!"

Vincent did not comprehend those last few words until he was sent flying into the man who had said them.

"I toldja to hold onta somethin'."

"I am holding onto something." He was holding onto two things, and they were both slipping quickly out of his grasp- Cid's shirt and his last shred of self-respect. Make that three things- the look Cid was giving him (more specifically the way he felt about it) was making him worry about his sanity, as well.

Vincent stood, Cid's hands steadying him on the way up. He did not need that support; neither did he push it away. He did, however, grow uncomfortable when Cid's hands lingered on his waist for a ridiculously long amount of time.

Vincent cleared his throat and took a step backward, hoping the pilot had not noticed the blush rising in his pale cheeks.

"Hey, I meant t'tell y'earlier, but y'look pretty darn good tonight, not hidin' under that cloak o' yers, I mean."

"Thank you."

"Well? Aintcha gonna tell me how good I look?"

"Oh! You look, erm, very-very nice, as well."

"Well dang, if I'd known you was gonna get all nervous, I wouldn'ta made the joke!" Cid was lying; he would have made the joke much sooner, had he known how the other man would react.

"Well, you may wanna get comfy. The Maiden, she's sturdy, but she ain't a super-speeder. Might be a while 'fore we get there."

Vincent nodded and stumbled into one of the chairs near the window. Wait, stumbled? Vincent? Wow, he really was nervous.

There was a book on the table near the chair. Out of curiosity, Vincent picked it up, wondering what literate person had been here and what he'd been reading. He was vaguely surprised to see that it was a mechanics magazine, and even more surprised to find, a few pages in, a build-your-own-airship article by a Syd Valentino. Coincidence? Vincent didn't think so. Unfortunately, his snooping did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, what're ya- Hey, put that down, it ain't yers!"

Vincent decided to fuel the man's obvious suffering; probably not the best choice, seeing as Vincent's life was basically in that same man's hands.

"I was just reading this article on building airships," he stated, feigning innocence. "It's something I've always considered trying." He was lying, of course; he had no intention of ruining his hands and back to piece together some infernal flying contraption.

"Really? Well, I never woulda guessed it. Er, outta curiosity, which article ya readin'?"

"The author calls himself," Cid braced himself, "Stanley Upshaw."

"Oh. Is that all? That ain't worth a fuck." Cid didn't remember that article. In fact, he didn't ever remember hearing that name; it was his own pride that made him forget why he's asked in the first place.

Vincent raised his eyebrows. "Which one do you suggest I read, then?"

"Uh. Hang on a sec, I'll show ya." Cid made his way over to Vincent's chair and looked over his shoulder.

"Hey, that page ain't got…ya lied to me? C'mon now, that ain't right…"

"Well, Mr. Valentino, you should be more careful about leaving things lying around."

"Howdja know…"

"I was a Turk."

"Right. So who's that Upshaw guy or whatever?" asked a very flustered Cid, wanting very much to change the subject.

"An old boyfriend." Vincent stated simply, closing the magazine and restoring it to its place on the table. He smirked, because he had never had a boyfriend before, nor had he ever heard of a man named Stanley Upshaw.

Cid could only stare, his mouth hanging open. This was going to be a very long flight…

Well, I thought it was cute. Sorry if I disappointed anyone.