Cid needed a beer — not wanted — but needed. He had spent the whole week dealing with Dickweed. The young man was so fucking ambitious that he had his nose stuck firmly up Reeve's ass. He hated having to deal with the high-paid upstart and have the brat try to tell him what to do.
Dickweed was the bane of his existence as they worked on the new wind generators. He loathed having the young moron peering over his shoulder as he was trying to do something. He hated it even more when the snot-nosed moron told him that he was doing it wrong.
He was in a bad mood and needed to unwind. He walked to the pub that he had been passing by on his way to the inn he was staying at while in Junon. It was a strange little whole in the wall with an even stranger name; Blue Oyster. He expected to find a nautical theme when he walked inside, but it looked more like a biker bar, even though he didn't remember seeing any motorcycles outside before he walked in.
He walked over to the counter and ordered a beer from the leather clad barmaid. She looked at him strangely, but he didn't care. She placed a tall frost mug of beer in front of him, gave him a wink and told him to call for 'Pat' if he needed anything else.
His first beer went down quick and he had to call Pat over for a refill. He started talking with one of the other gentlemen for a short while that let him rant and rave about his day. He was nice enough to buy him a few rounds on top of it all. The guy's name was Roy and seemed a decent enough guy. He was dressed a little funny — wearing tighter leather pants than Vincent — but he learned long ago not to look over people's strange clothing choices, but Roy had to join a friend that arrived after he bought him his fifth beer. Cid was left alone again to stew over Dickweed being a dickweed.
He had a few more drinks and was feeling rather drunk. The beer was good, the music a little strange. Who plays the tango at a bikers bar anyway? But he wasn't there to dance. He was there to drown his sorrows about Dickweed.
He was contemplating on going back to his hotel room and passing out when a figure sat beside him. A familiar hand and voice ordered a beer.
He blinked and snorted, "Whatcha' doin' 'ere?" Cid asked as he turned to see Vincent looking down at him.
"I was looking for you. I gave up, came here, and surprisingly found you." Vincent settled in the seat when the beers were placed in front of him. "I didn't figure you for a place like this."
Cid shrugged and gratefully took the cold mug. "Needed ta cool off after dealin' with Dickweed all week."
Vincent cocked his head to the side. "Dillerson?"
"Yeah, Dickweed," Cid groused, "Damn brat."
Vincent snorted. "Dillerson feels the same way."
Cid slammed his mug onto the table. "Who does he think he's tellin' me how ta wire shit!"
"He comes highly recommended." Vincent seemed amused as he took a sip of his beer.
"He's twelve!" Cid yelled.
"He looks like a kid that has everythin' handed ta him on a silver fucking platter." Cid pouted and knew that it was pouting. He raised his voice and grabbed Vincent's upper arm. "That brat has no idea how ta use his tool! It was too damn tight ta use it like that and he knew it too, but he was tryin' to force the fit!"
A bartender raised an eyebrow at him. "What ya looking at, Pat? My pal here needs another one of these them there's." Cid pointed at the beer on the bar, hoping to get his point across.
"I'm not done this one yet." Vincent had been sitting there all of five minutes and he had hardly sipped any of his beer.
"Ya got a lot of catchin' up to do," Cid said as he finished what remained in his cup. "Did that tool send ya here?"
"Which tool? Reeve or Dillerson?"
Cid snorted. "Dickweed. Reeve woulda sent that robotic rodent."
"He was concerned about your health. He stated that your blood pressure seemed to be a little high as you stormed out," Vincent said in a voice that was clearly amused.
"Like that brat fuckin' cares! He jus' wants to see me in a hospital so he can fiddle with all the machines I would be hooked up ta." Cid yelled. Dickweed was a pain in the ass and he hated being told that he was wrong. "That young upstart thinks he can tell me what's right an' wrong with my plans and ship, he has another thing comin'!"
"He is as young as you were when you started with the Space Program," Vincent pointed out. Pat placed another mug in front of Cid and then scurried off to the other side of the bar.
"I paid my dues!" Cid yelled and promptly downed the rest of his beer before he reached for the new one on the counter.
"Oh," Vincent said as he looked at the froth in his cup, "and what dues were those."
"I had ta plead to that damn corrupt Vice President of Shin-Ra to get them to understand my vision. Meetin' after meetin' with those slime balls to understand how important it was."
"You got your funding, did you not?"
"They had no fuckin' vision," Cid nearly yelled as he took a deep breath and looked to Vincent. "It took more than flashin' a fancy research paper and promises," Cid grumbled as his shoulders slumped and took the cold beer mug in both of his hands.
"I'm sure it was difficult."
"Darn right," Cid said and he straightened himself up. "That damn Rufus was a damn brat about the whole damn thing."
"Oh?" Vincent turned his gaze so that they were looking directly in each other eyes, "and what did he request of you?"
Cid wished he had kept his mouth shut. This was not something that he liked to talk but the beers sure were loosening his tongue. "Fuckin' snob liked to have his breakfast in bed, I had ta walk that damn mutt of his and … other stuff." His voice trailed off at the end.
Vincent's eyebrows rose. "Breakfast in bed? I was not aware that this was normal business practices."
Cid cleared his throat. "I paid my fuckin' dues."
Cid yelled for another beer, even though his mug was three quarters full. He had a feeling he was going to be finishing it up rather quickly at Vincent's questions.
Vincent took a sip of his beer and look forward, "So, who else did you serve breakfast in bed to?"
"That's none of yer damn business!" Cid bellowed. "Brat was jus' out to humiliate me."
"And did you get your funding?"
"After all that, I still needed ta work on the others," Cid grumbled into his beer.
"Scarlet. She was one demandin' bitch. Not only did she expect breakfast in bed but she wanted me to feed it to her."
Vincent ducked his face into the cowl of his jacket. The music in the bar was too loud for him to be sure, but he could swear the man was snickering.
"Woman was more demandin' than any man should endure," Cid grumbled and tried to think about how amused Vincent was by the whole situation. He had a rough start in life and he was doing all the he could, at the moment, to get out of the rut and achieve his dream, even if it was a little dirty.
"I'm sure it was a burden," Vincent said and took a sip of his beer. Bastard was smiling.
"Darn right it was. I had ta deal with Palmer. That man was creepy!"
A brow rose for a moment on the stoic man, "And did you serve him breakfast in bed?"
Cid just about spat out his beer. "What kinda slut do ya take me for? Some dues aren't meant to be paid. I had ta make sure that he had a couple of dem Honeybee girls supplied to him at the Inn, is all."
Vincent chuckled and took a sip of his beer. Cid noticed that his eyes swept the bar. "Did you have to persuade any of the Turks for assistance?"
Cid hunched over his beer and grumbled.
"Ah," Vincent said. "Did you have to bribe Tseng with breakfast in bed too?"
Cid twisted in his seat.
"I didn't hear that?"
"Only if Rufus wanted it," He mumbled and glared at Vincent who seemed to be enjoying his discomfort.
"You would have had to compete for SOLDIER money as well," Vincent said and stared at Cid. Cid could feel those eyes burning into his skull.
"I don't wanna talk about that."
"Was this breakfast-in-bed thing rampant about Shin-Ra?"
Cid shook his head. "It was Dinner," Cid grumbled and finished off what was left in his cup, waggling it at Pat for another one. "And a fuckin' show too. It was the most borin' play that I'd ever witnessed; fell right asleep and pissed him off. I didn't get any support from that redheaded artsy-fartsy bastard."
Vincent chuckled. "So, you're upset with Dillerson for not having to pay similar dues to get to the position that he is in."
"The bastard SOLDIER made me wear a suit when he took me!" Cid yelled and half the bar turned as they spoke. He lowered his voice. "It was stiff and starchy and it made me look like a gorilla."
Vincent put a hand on his shoulder. "And what makes you think that he didn't pay any similar dues?"
"You're assuming that he only got the position with his brains." Vincent said and pushed his cup of beer in front of Cid, who eagerly took it into his hands.
Vincent tilted his head and waited for a better answer.
"Reeve's too fuckin' honorable for all that shit." Cid took a drink of the beer and muttered into the cup, "I fuckin' tried."
"Ah, but there is one part that you have forgotten. The man that funds Reeve is not all that honourable," Vincent pointed out. "I imagine that he is very much like you, just without the cigarettes and swearing."
Cid thought about it for a moment as he tried to contemplate the prissy Dickweed jerk wannabe paying some of the similar dues that he once endured. "Ya think so?"
Vincent shrugged, "I highly doubt it."
Cid glared at Vincent and had a very strong urge to throw his beer at him. It was a good thing that his cup was empty. "Ya know, you're an ass."
Vincent made a small amused sound as he looked around the bar again.
"Why'd ya come to find me again?" Cid asked.
"I was curious as to what you were doing, but I see you had already made your decision." Vincent examined the empty cups in front of him. "Are you going to be able to walk?"
Cid shook his head. "I jus' didn't want to deal with any dicks for a night."
Vincent barked a laugh. "You picked the wrong bar for that."
"What? Is that pissant here?" Cid turned around and examined the bar. There were a few more people around that before but not too many and he didn't see Dickweed. His eyes roamed over the crowd and he saw Roy, the man he had been talking to earlier, who raised his cup to him. He gave a wave back as he turned back to Vincent.
"No. He returned to the hotel," Vincent said firmly.
"Does he have family 'ere or something'?" Cid asked trying to see if any of the leather clad patrons resembled the Dickweed. Vincent shook his head and kept scanning the bar. "What the 'ell are you talking about?"
Vincent shook his head. "Have you been to this bar before?"
"Nah, been too busy workin' to go drinkin'. Seem's nice enough though," Cid said. He had felt quite welcome in here since he arrived. It was only Vincent's strange questions that were unsettling him.
"This bar hasn't change since I was a Turk," Vincent said, "I believe that dent in the wall there was created the last time I visited here."
"You used to come 'ere?" Cid asked. "Fuck, this place is old."
Vincent narrowed his eyes. "It was a good place to unwind and relax after a hard night." Vincent stood and wrapped his cloak around himself. "Be sure to give me a call if you have a problem with the dicks in the room."
"Ah, come on, Vince. I don't wanna drink alone," Cid said and reached out and grabbed his arm.
"You seemed to have attracted a lot of attention, I don't think you will have that problem for long," Vincent said and scanned the room again. Cid followed his gaze and looked around. Roy winked at him and another man gave him a large smile.
"What does that mean?" He wasn't sure what Vincent was getting at.
Vincent tossed some gil at the table. "You will find out soon enough."
"Yer being a cryptic ass."
Vincent lifted his chin and smirked as he leaned in close. "Have you ever wondered why you are the only one in the bar that is not wearing leather?"
Cid blinked and looked around and saw that he indeed was the only one wearing work clothes. Everyone else was in leather pants, vests … and even hats.
Vincent leaned closer and whispered in his ear. "Did you wonder, why the waitress was the only woman in the bar."
"So?" Cid paused and looked around again before he realized that there was a man with a collar and a leash being led by another across the dance floor. "Oh." He sat up straight and just about fell off his stool. "Oh!"
"You didn't realize what type of bar the 'Blue Oyster' was?" Vincent said with clear amusement written on his face as he watched Cid try to fumble with his wallet to get enough gil to pay his tab.
"Ass," Cid yelled as he staggered out of the bar, as quickly as his drunken feet would take him. He was well aware of the smirking bastard following him out of the bar. Roy waved at him and he tried to get out of the bar quicker. He did not mean to give these guys the wrong opinion of him.
Vincent walked beside him and grabbed his jacket to keep him from falling over. Cid didn't realize that he was falling. He had way too many beers to function properly. "You could've told me sooner."
"And where would have been the fun in that?" Vincent said. Cid was pretty sure that he was the only reason that he was standing as they weaved onto the street.
Cid stumbled along with Vincent's help back to the hotel where he was staying. He found his key in his pocket to open his door but the doorknob kept moving and Vincent had to open the door for him. He tried to sit in a chair, but missed and slid to the floor. "Ya know, you said when you got there that you'd stopped lookin' fer me."
Vincent nodded as he put the key on the table.
"So what were ya doin' thar?"
Vincent blinked slowly and opened his cape, showing the leather clothes beneath. "Do you think this was an outfit that Hojo had lying around the cave when he placed me in that coffin?"
Cid's eyes grew wide as he watched Vincent leave his room, leaving him on the floor, very confused, amused and curious.
He slid further onto the floor and hoped he would remember to ask a few more questions in the morning about the evening if he remember it at all.