Heavy drinking on Cid's part was expected at get-togethers. Odd behavior after said drinking was also typical of his party manners.

Yuffie watched, delighted, as Cid dropped to one knee before Vincent. With one hand he extended the half-empty bottle of cheap beer he'd been nursing for the past twenty minutes –he did tend to slow down after a few, and he was usually grateful for that in the morning- and grabbed Vincent's hand with his other.

"Whaddaya say, Vin? Wanna get hitched?"

Vincent was not a spiteful person, nor did he usually enjoy humiliating others. Cid just made himself such an irresistible target sometimes that Vincent had to lower his morals.

For instance, when Cid was drunk, they often had "deep" discussions. Those usually involved Vincent saying something that sounded very wise but meant nothing in actuality, and waiting for Cid to respond to it.

(Most recently- "You know, Chief, the world will turn until it doesn't, at which point it will cease turning entirely." Cid had sat in awed silence for about two minutes before applauding loudly and telling the whole world that Vincent Valentine was the smartest man alive.)

Sometimes Vincent only had to play along, such as in the current case.

He looked down at Cid, up at Yuffie, winked at her (which chilled her to the bone even as it amused her), and seized the bottle. "Of course. I would have no other."

"Well, all right, then! Heh, lookit this, y'all! Me an' Vin, we're gettin' married!"

Hardly any heads turned. Even the bar regulars not involved with anti-ShinRa efforts had learned that Cid yelled about almost anything, and that it was rarely ever anything important.

Yuffie giggled. She'd never seen Vincent enjoying himself quite this much. He must have something really good up his sleeve…

--

Cid blinked himself awake. Blinding light, head-splitting noise in the streets…yep, he was in Edge the morning after one of Tifa's parties, no doubt about it.

A smaller noise than the sirens outside caught his attention.

Oh shit.

He'd done stupid things before, obviously, but he'd never found himself in a hotel room with some random girl before. It would seem his self-restraint was slipping further in his old age. He turned his head slightly to examine the woman next to him.

"Oh, pretty hair," he said, and dared to run his hand through it. The other person did not move, so Cid, curious to see what else had attracted him to her, slid his hand down to her chest.

His eyes widened when he realized there were no breasts. There was no way this was simply a flat-chested woman; no, this was a man. "Oh, shit."

Vincent, fighting laughter, mumbled, "What's wrong?"

"Shit!" Cid leapt from the bed and yanked the covers from it, revealing a sleepy-looking Vincent clothed only in his black pants. "Vincent!?"

"Of course. Who else would it be?" He did his best to look hurt.

"Uh…anybody else, prob'ly. Why the hell…don't tell me…Vince, what the hell's on my finger?" The light had struck the (fake, and very, very cheap) gold of the ring Vincent had slipped on him in the night.

"You really don't remember?" Vincent held up his own hand to show the identical ring he wore.

"You tellin' me…shit, how the hell did this happen?"

"You asked me, you know."

"Is that even legal?"

"I suppose I may have had to impersonate a woman."

"An' I missed it? Shit. Heh, bet it was fuckin' hilarious." He drifted away for a moment, lost in the thought. "But never mind all that," he said, snapping back rather suddenly. "What are we gonna do about it?"

"Do?"

"Well, yeah. We can't stay married."

"Why not?" Vincent asked, trying very hard to sound sincere.

"Well, we're both guys, dammit! An' I don't do that!"

"Really? Last night's activities would prove you rather deeply wrong, I believe."

"What the- what?"

"What do you think?"

"Shit, Vincent…m'sorry," he said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Hm? What reason is there to apologize? I consented to everything you proposed, did I not? And I must say," he paused to push the laughter farther back, "you were quite excellent."

"Heh." Cid put his hands on his hips and grinned smugly at Vincent, who noticed with amusement that Cid was entirely comfortable standing naked before an open window. The latter seemed to notice the window at about the same moment. "Did we, uh, leave the curtains open all night?"

"Of course. Why should we hide?"

"Heh." He crossed his arms and looked at Vincent.

Vincent stood and stretched, being sure to show off every inch of his body not covered. "Since it was spur-of-the-moment, there was no time to have a party last night. We're meeting at the Seventh Heaven for noon. You may want to shower soon."

Cid glanced around the room and spotted his pants in one corner and his shirt thrown over the TV set. "Damn, we…we really, uh…"

"Got to business? Yes, and in quite a hurry."

"So y're tellin' me that I got married an' had honeymoon sex an' don't remember any of it?"

"I'm afraid so. I did rather hope you would remember, but I suppose it is too much to ask."

"Vincent?"

"Hm?"

"Seriously?"

"I have warned you again and again not to drink so much."

"That ain't what I meant! I mean what're we gonna do?"

"You do not wish to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind that, just…shit, Vince, I ain't…an' neither're you, dammit! You're head over heels fer that damn crystallized chick-"

"Lucrecia is in my past now. You are in my present, and you hold my future in the palm of your hand. Will you toss it aside so easily?"

"Aw, Vince…don't do that t'me, buddy…"

"It is your fault. You should not have led me to believe…" Really, this was all much more amusing than Vincent had initially thought it would be.

"Shit, I'm sorry. If I'd been…but why'd you accept it? You can't really want that from me."

"It is not your place to decide what I want. I…I thought you loved me. You said you loved me, and I have longed to hear those words for so much time…"

"Vincent…"

"It's fine, Chief. I understand. Get dressed so we can meet the others." He sounded so thoroughly disappointed, so crushed, that Cid hung his head in shame.

"Vince, you know I…I mean, dammit…"

Vincent turned eyes wet with disappointment (suppressed laughter, of course) on him and asked solemnly, "Why did you ask?"

"Dammit, boy, I was drunk!"

"How was I to know? I had only just arrived. For all I knew, you had been waiting for me."

"Shit…I really fucked up, didn't I?"

"Yes. If…if you're not going to stay with me, I would like the ring back." I may be able to pawn them for more than what they're worth.

"I…let's go talk t'ever'body else first, a' right?"

"Very well."

Vincent put on his shirt, buttoned it, pocketed something Cid couldn't see, and headed for the door.

Safely in the bathroom of the lobby, he finally allowed himself to release the pent-up laughter. He laughed –softly, as always- until his sides began to ache. He checked the camera. It had recorded as Vincent dragged a slumbering pilot into the hotel room, removed his clothes and tossed them aside; watched as Vincent took the rings and put one on Cid's left hand and the other on his own. It had seen the morning's events as well- the waking, the shock, the acting. He placed the contraption in his pocket again and returned to the lobby, where Cid was waiting.

"Shit, Vincent, I'm sorry."

"Wha-"

"I didn't think y'd cry, dammit! You don't cry!"

No, I certainly don't. But you just might before the day is through. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. You know I have long since grown used to this."

"Bah, quit doin' that!"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize! Let's go."

--

Tifa dimmed the lights when she saw her friends heading toward the bar. She motioned for the others to calm down.

When they entered the room, Cid and Vincent found themselves smothered in confetti and shouts of "congratulations!"

Cid looked so distraught that Vincent felt awful for a moment. Only a moment, though, because Tifa was motioning for him to hand her the camera.

Cid sat at the bar with his head in his hands. Vincent sat quietly next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

That seemed to snap something in Cid. He stood and cleared his throat loudly. "Listen, everybody, I-"

"Wait, Cid, we have a present for you two. Hold on just a second."

"But I-"

"Hush, Chief. You'll enjoy this."

Tifa turned on the TV and set the video rolling. Cid looked on, flabbergasted, as Vincent smirked beside him, proud of how his plan had played out.

When they reached the end of the DVD, everyone turned to look at Cid.

"Tifa," he said, "pour me a drink."