Title: Of Coffee Cups
Author: Panthera
Disclaimer: Not mine, which is probably for the best since I'd be swamped with fangirls.
Rating: PG, nothing really bad here.
Pairing: ZackxCloudxSephiroth, implied
Warnings: Slash (again, implied), un-beta-ed.


Some days it pays to stay in bed. Like those days when nothing goes right, or you're just not into it at all. It's easy to tell when a day is going to be one of those days. Cloud knows about those days better than most, his life is filled with them.

But really, a coffee cup?

Walking into the kitchen, he opens the cabinet and pulls out the first cup in reach. It's not much, just a plain white mug with a picture of a moogle on it. It's been three years, three years, during which he has guzzled coffee, tea, and all manner of hot beverage out of a godforsaken coffee cup, even some of them with moogles on them. He wishes he could blame it on the moogle, but the fuzzy bastard hasn't done anything but smile. No, it's the fact that he recognizes the cup as Yuffie's.

"You stole my cup!" is the indignant cry from the kitchen. I resolutely button my pants.

The deep rumble of Sephiroth's voice slides into the room and I can't make out the words, but the tone is amused.

"Of course we do!" It's like hearing half of a telephone conversation.

Forgoing the shirt to accommodate curiosity, I quickly cross the apartment to the kitchen doorway. Zack and Sephiroth immediately know I'm there, they could probably hear me in the bedroom.

"Clooud!" Zack whines, "Seph stole my coffee cup!"

"We have coffee cups?" I ask, confused.

"What! Yes we have coffee cups! Yours has the chocobo, Seph's has the dragon, and mine has the moogle!"

"Zachary, we have more than enough coffee cups so that each person may have more than one." Sometimes, for all his genius, Sephiroth just really doesn't get stuff.

"That's not the point! Right, Spike?" Zack turns, bright and hopeful.

"Back home we had to drink coffee out of soup bowls." Must keep straight face, must keep straight face…

Sephiroth's eyes flash with concern for a moment, and he starts to reply "Cloud…"

"Don't," Zack cuts in, giving me a dirty, betrayed look. "He's lying."

Sephiroth eyes me calmly, "How can you tell?"

I silently cheer at myself for not laughing yet.

"His spikes," Zack grumbles moodily.

At our confused looks, he elaborates. "When Spike talks about something that really upsets him, his spikes droop a little. They're all sorts of pointy right now, so he's lying."

Sephiroth turns, no expression on his face, "Cloud?"

"Eh heh heh…" I make a mad dash for the bathroom; hoping surprise will give me a head start.

Staring at the cup in his hand, Cloud resolves to find one with a dragon and a moogle on it. But for now, the moogle should do it.

Downing the coffee in two gulps (a remnant of Zack, no doubt), Cloud wonders if the spike thing is really true. With the way he feels, his spikes should be so flat they'd make Rufus' hair look downright fluffy.