*Night Off*

-ff7 pregame zack ficlett -

Zack didn’t notice the trouble brewing towards the front of the club until the sound of breaking glass filled a lull in conversation. He looked past his date’s elegantly messy pile of curls to see two bouncers converging on a tight clump of men near the bar and sighed, expecting that someone had had one-too many and would soon be escorted towards the door. It had nothing to do with him; not until he caught the unmistakable shock of bright blond spiky hair right in the thick of things. The SOLDIER swore and untangled himself from the woman on his lap. Jill would keep for a minute or two before going on the hunt for someone less easily distracted. He hoped.

He pushed through the crowd of spectators just in time to watch the first and only punch of the brawl-to-be. A small rat-faced man standing next to Spike was summarily blocked, caught by the scruff of the neck, and tossed out the door, hurling insults the whole time. The blond was shouting to, giving as good as he got in his verbal war with the taller of the two bruisers that kept the interior of the club from becoming a boxing ring. Zack had the good luck to be in position to catch the kid by the wrist before he could do something that he’d regret later.

“Come with me.” Speaking in a murmur directly into the trooper’s ear, he had no doubt that he was heard. He pulled the enlisted man towards the door, the blonde’s other irate cronies scattering like a flock of pigeons ahead of him and disappearing down the street. “So much for solidarity against the enemy, hmm?”

“Let go of me!”

He released the wrist with a surprised look, half expecting the kid to take a swing at him now that they were clear of the press of bodies and watching eyes of the bar. “… Easy, Spike. I didn’t bring you out here to beat you.” Taking in the bitter, angry expression he almost wondered if he had just told a lie. “… although god knows you look like you’d love to try…”

“Fuck you. What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Trying to have a good time, same as everyone else.” He shrugged trying to defuse the blonde’s short temper. “The question is what are /you/ doing here, trooper? Because it sure looks like you’re not enjoying yourself.”

“I was having a /great/ time until some of your jack-off SOLDIER buddies decided that me and the guys were put on this earth for their own personal amusement…” The officer never noticed just how /blue/ Spike’s eyes were, he realized as he watched them flash in the light of the streetlamps. Blue and full of desperate rage; they weren’t the sort of eyes anyone would expect to see in a sixteen year old. They weren’t the sort of eyes that /should/ be in a sixteen year old. Zack caught one of the scrawny shoulders and gave the trooper a rough shake.

“Look kid, I don’t pretend to know what just happened in there. All I know is, I want is to hang out at my favorite dive, have a few drinks with some friends, enjoy some time with the ladies…” He smiled a little at the club’s run-down exterior. Sector 2 had about a million more of the same, weekend hangouts for troopers and Shinra wage-slaves alike. “I like this bar. It’s a good bar. Last thing it needs is to get busted up because some trooper’s can’t take some shit on the chin and keep themselves together, you know?”

“Sure, sure I know… my kind aren’t good enough to be pissing on the ‘big men’s turf… yeah, well fuck /you/.”

Zack raised an eyebrow at the acid reply. “… I don’t know what the hell got into you today Spike, or who… If it was one of mine, then all I can do is apologize for him, but you know the rules. Unless it gets physical it’s not officially a fight, and as far as I could see, the only punch thrown was by ‘Guido-the-rat-pimp’, not anyone else.”

“… right. Next time some Mako-eyed bastard goes and kicks one of my friends in the stomach I’ll make sure to take a /picture/ for you.”

“Do that. I’ll put them on report.” The dark haired man sighed. “All I’m saying is go walk it off… If you want someplace quiet to drink, unwind, have a laugh or two, there are dozens of other bars around, go to one of them. Hell, if it’s a /fight/ you want, go to one of them. I don’t care. Just don’t do it here, ok?”

“What the hell is wrong with me being at this club? You own it or something?”

“No… but you just managed to piss off just about every single soul /in/ this club, kid. And while I acknowledge that you’ve got spunk, it’ll only get you so far in a brawl that big. Do me a favor and go back to HQ, cool off, and take the night to do some studying or something.”

He couldn’t read what was behind the mutinous look, and was too tired to want to. The SOLDIER had left the office to get /away/ from human porcupines for a little while. Sephiroth in the middle of a full-blown case of pre-deployment fussing was more than even a saint could bear. “Look. If you want to duck past me and make a scene by barging back in someplace you’re not wanted, I’m not gonna stop you, but let me put it to you this way… remember that large man with the tattoo standing right behind me a second ago?”

“Who, the asshole who was threatening to rip my head off and shove it up my…”

“That’s the one.” The dark haired man shook his head in amusement. “… he may be a loudmouth, but he’s also an MP.”

The fact had the appropriately cowing effect on the young trooper.

“Assaulting an MP, even when he’s off duty, is punishable by time in the brig. Believe me, I know. But hey, it’s your life, right?”

“So what are you trying to say, that you’ve done me some sort of favor?” Anger now tempered by a sort of wild despair, the blond cursed and kicked the wall. “Fuck this. It’s not /fair/.”

“What’s fair got to do with it? You shouldn’t have been picking fights with officers in the first place.” The dark SOLDIER sighed. He couldn’t help it, about to give in and try and find out what had provoked the kid’s outburst. The door of the club swung open just as he was gathering his thoughts.

“Is there a problem, Zack?”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Joel glaring past him at where the trooper slouched. Looking back at Spike, he caught the blonde’s eye. “… do I have a problem, kid?”

“No sir. No problems at all, sir.”

Given the situation, the sarcasm wasn’t unexpected. The SOLDIER took the words at face value, skin more than thick enough to let the lapse slide. “Good. Get a move on, Spike or someone’s bound to start worrying about you.”

“Yessir, have a good evening sir.”

Zack felt the MP standing next to him, also watching as the short trooper sketched a salute and slunk down the street. “… That little punk…”

“You know him?”

“Strife? Oh yeah.” The tall officer made a rude noise. “Got a knack for ending up in the middle of brawls, that kid. Not that he starts them per-say… but he helps, you know…? Like pumping in nitrogen when a room’s already burning. Should have figured he’d be out cruising for trouble this weekend…”

Following the crop-haired MP back into the bar, the SOLDIER raised an eyebrow. “Why you say that?”

“Shit man, you’re Sephiroth’s damn right hand and you don’t keep track of these things? The results to the last entrance exam were posted on Friday.”

“Oh, you mean the SOLDIER candidate entrance exam? Damn, you’re telling me that the little guy actually /wanted/ to join up?!” Zack wasn’t sure if he was impressed or alarmed at the idea.

There was no doubt how low Spike must have scored on the required psychological screening. Not that he knew the kid well, but after spending a day with the blond once he doubted that there was any secret wellspring of self-confidence and strength beneath the fragile seeming exterior. In general, pessimists just didn’t have what it took. At least Sephiroth had a core of rigid discipline and a god-sent, if well hidden, appreciation for the ironic tucked beneath his cold-bastard façade. Private Strife didn’t have a prayer of convincing anyone that he was mentally or emotionally ready to cope with the Mako conditioning process.

“… Failed with flying colors, they tell me. Second year in a row.”

“I didn’t know…” Zack looked back towards the door, wondering if he could catch the blond before the kid found himself some more trouble, wondering if he should. The decision was made for him as a possessive pair of arms slipped beneath his to squeeze him tight.

“… There you are… I was worried!”

He grinned down at the woman who was trying her best to drag him back towards the party. “… Sorry babe, just a bit of a discipline problem.” Joel snorted at the remark and went to the bar to order another round.

“You promised to dance until dawn, Mr. SOLDIER… I do hope you don’t plan to disappoint me… Not when you’re leaving town tomorrow for ever and ever and…”

“Two weeks, Jill. Three maybe. Hardly forever.” Laughing he caught her hands and pulled her deeper into the club. She hadn’t been his first choice for a night out on the town, but she was a fine looking woman just the same. “…So you going to give me a send off I’m not going to forget?”

“… Nothing but the best for my favorite super-man!”

Zack gave up worrying for the trooper. He had his own men to worry about, a mission in less than 12 hours, and an attention-starved man-killer on his arm. Spike and his problems would still be around, and still be solvable when he got back. In the mean time he just wanted to drink and dance and forget about responsibility for as long as possible before throwing the other SOLDIERs out of the bar and into the transport in the morning.

*****