A/N: A birthday gift for Jeanesis. 3
"Fancy meeting you here."
His voice was like the menacing hiss of a snake, and Vincent had to suppress a shiver when he heard it as close to his ear as it was.
"Genesis," he responded, voice clipped with annoyance. The SOLDIER was clearly very aware that he'd be in that particular bar on that particular night and while although how he got the information was questionable; Vincent could bet that one Yuffie Kisaragi (Genesis' newest instrument of destruction and chaos) had something to do with it.
The redhead slithered around until he was perched on the barstool beside him, and offered the barkeep a dashing smile. "Grey Goose martini, if you would," he requested, folding his hands together neatly on the bar-top. "And save the olive for a man who won't use them as a projectile weapon."
Sufficiently charmed, the bar-tender shuffled away to prepare the concoction, causing Genesis' attention to turn once again to the man sitting next to him, guarding his tumbler of rye with his gauntleted arm curled around it in a protective gesture.
"I suppose you heard I would be here tonight," Genesis said, knowing well enough not to bother seeking eye contact, and thus let his gaze drift over the neat display of bottles or different shapes and sizes, arranged in front of a mirror. "I told Yuffie she shouldn't have bothered to inform you, for I honestly hadn't expected you to show. What a pleasant surprise I had when I saw you sitting here."
Vincent scowled at him, guarding most of his expression of distaste behind the collar of his cloak, but allowing enough of it to be seen through his share glare. "I assure you, it was all luck," he ground out.
Genesis chuckled, carelessly waving a hand through the air. "It matters not." He smiled and nodded his thanks as the barkeep set his drink in front of him. "All I'm concerned with is that you drink enough of whatever it is you're drinking that you consider taking me home tonight."
Vincent swept up his drink and downed the final swallow. The burn in this throat that followed was expected and welcomed, and when he placed the glass back on the table, he motioned to the bar keep to pour him another.
"That is out of the question, Genesis."
"Oh please," he quipped, turning to him with an infuriating pout set upon his face.
Vincent couldn't bring himself to dignify the plea with any form of an answer, and so he rose from his seat and took his newly filled drink with him, hoping to find Yuffie and demand that they leave. He'd go by himself, just to be rid of Genesis, but there was something unsettling about leaving the young ninja in a bar by herself, particularly while she was wearing the small strappy red dress she was wearing, with those high-heeled shoes that made her legs look like they went on forever, and the push-up bra she forever denied owning and only wore out when she was looking for trouble.
At the moment, however, she wasn't in sight and his brow furrowed with concern.
Deciding it best to look for her, Vincent ducked into the coat room, wondering if she had been taken somewhere by someone he would later have to kill, but as his eyes scanned the empty room, a shadow not his own was cast in from the light in the doorway.
"At least humor me with a kiss."
"Where is Yuffie?" Vincent asked, ignoring the man's request. They always seemed to be conspiring together these days, and as much as it pained him to admit it, his best chance at locating Yuffie may have been to team up with Genesis.
"Kisaragi? No idea. I think I saw her disappear with Reno not too long ago. Good thing too. Girl needs a good lay. She's been so hung up on you for the longest time—and let me tell you, you are cold as ice."
Vincent saw red. He saw the red of Yuffie's dress, pushed up and down in places it shouldn't be. He saw the red of Reno's hair, and the red nail polish on Yuffie's fingers as they ran through it. He saw the red of Reno's blood after he managed to get his hands on him and punched him square in the nose.
Vincent silently lifted his drink to his mouth and drained it all, swallowing down the sharp liquid and wiping the corner of his mouth on his sleeve. "I will kiss you once, if you help me find Yuffie and destroy that Turk." He almost regretted saying it the moment it left his mouth, and maybe it was his anger needing to be satisfied, or maybe it was the amount of alcohol he had drank, but at the time, it seemed like a good idea, despite the shudder of repulsion that passed down his spine.
Genesis smirked. "One will never be enough, Valentine—" he made to say, but was cut off when he was pressed violently back against the wall, Vincent's hands pinning the SOLDIER's shoulders in place. A moment's hesitation occurred on Vincent's part, but for the sake of his mission, he made his move, pressing his lips against the man's with the annoyingly smug smirk on them.
Unsatisfied with what he had, Genesis' mouth devoured the taller man's, insistently coaxing his lips apart; his tongue snaking past them in a brash dismissal of common sense.
Vincent's battled back just as forcefully: a display of dominance between the two men before he jerked away with a sneer.
"Now. Find Yuffie," he growled; voice deep and dark in the red-head's ear.
"She's in the ladies bathroom, fixing her make-up."
"I'll go in and get her if you'd like."
Vincent stormed out of the coatroom before his body acted on its initial instinct to decapitate.
"Or not!" Genesis called after him. He sighed and examined his coat, rubbing at a spot on the jacket where he had spilled his martini in all the excitement. "This will ruin the leather, I hope he knows." He sighed loudly. "Rhapsodos: one, Kisaragi: zero." He shuffled momentarily. "Well, Kisaragi one, if you count that he was about to defend her honor. Or two, if you count that he's probably about to go and sweep her off her feet and potentially declare his love for her." He paused and tossed his hair. "But who's counting?"
A/N: Happy birthday, dearest. Hope you liked it =D