Jukebox Hound (jukeboxhound) wrote,
Jukebox Hound

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fic: nubbins (ffvii)

Sephiroth, Angeal, Cloud, and Zack being...Zack.
Unbetaed.  I promise I don't normally have these kinds of thoughts.  Rilly.


Hades’ Phoenix


Angeal, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Lazard had been in a meeting with Heidegger.  In his usual dipshit fashion, however, Genesis had opened his pretty mouth and managed to piss the man off, meaning that by the time Angeal and Sephiroth made it to the Briefing Room it was a bit later than the time they had agreed to meet with Zack.


It appeared that Zack hadn’t had to wait alone.  When the two SOLDIER Firsts walked in, a lowly trooper that had been drooping in boredom in one of the chairs immediately leapt to attention.  Zack, however, didn’t even flinch; he was sprawled on his back on the table, boots tossed carelessly aside and a bare foot raised in the air.  He was staring at it with apparent fascination, as though the secrets to the universe were written in the long lines of tendon and muscle.


“…Zack,” Angeal said, as though he were used to walking in on such sights.  Maybe he was.  Sephiroth didn’t find that very reassuring for the company’s future.  “I promise, your foot isn’t going to leave the room without you.”


“What are you doing?” Sephiroth asked, very calmly.


“Toes are fucking weird,” Zack solemnly declared.  An odd sound came from behind the trooper’s helmet.  “They’re five little nubbins on at the end of a long limb that look like giant skin tags or something that said, ‘Hey!  Let’s have a party!  Conga line, everyone!’”


Even Angeal was looking at him strangely.  The trooper didn’t seem very perturbed at the way a superior officer was acting, meaning that this was probably the puppy’s puppy that Sephiroth kept hearing so much about.


“And fingers,” Zack went on blithely, holding his hands up in the air.  “You know how when you repeat a word constantly it starts sounding like gibberish?  Fingers do that too.  I mean, who’s bright idea was it to make another long limb that ended with flat paddle-shaped things called hands and five wigglies around the edge?  If they were anywhere else on the body they’d be freaking gross, man.”


“Probably because it isn’t normal to have fingers on your knees,” the trooper muttered, obviously underestimating the range of SOLDIER hearing.  Zack snorted.


Normal’s overrated, Cloud.  Because nubbins and wigglies?  Just not right.  Our species should evolute them away.”


“Funny,” Angeal replied dryly, “I think you’d have a much harder time finding a date without fingers, Zack.”


“…You’re right,” the SOLDIER Second sighed.  “Aeris wouldn’t love me nearly as much if I didn’t have fingers to play with.”


Sephiroth could practically feel the trooper’s blush under the helmet, and resisted the urge to cover his own face with exasperation.

Tags: - fic, f: final fantasy vii
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