Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7 > The Pursuit of Pleasure

Stage Three: Climax

by Ardwynna 0 reviews

And it keeps getting worserer and worserer.

Category: Final Fantasy 7 - Rating: R - Genres: Humor - Characters: Aeris Gainsborough, Sephiroth - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2005-12-31 - Updated: 2005-12-31 - 3650 words

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Warnings: This chapter involves something that sounds a bit like 'mastication'.

The Pursuit of Pleasure

Stage Three: Climax

In the middle of an open field some distance outside the town of Not-Perfect, an unclothed young woman lay spread out on a coat of buttery soft leather, waiting for her would-be lover. The stars shone down, winking at her and she waited. The man in the moon ogled her naked form and she waited. The wind whistled as it shook the shrubbery around her, and still, she waited.

After a while, she got pretty damned tired of waiting.

She was hungry and the man who had the meat she wanted was nowhere in sight. It couldn't take that long to pick up a pack, could it? She waited and waited and waited some more. She waited so long that her appetite threatened to lose its edge. Aeris was not about to miss out on a good meal. She was quite comfortable dining alone, especially since her companion had been so inconsiderate as to let the meal start turning cold.

Aeris let her fingers do some walking. She crossed the finish line like a champion marathon runner and sat up, quite satisfied. There was still the minor issue of her missing man, but she'd had quite enough of waiting.

Her mean streak kicked in right then. That man was going to pay for keeping her waiting. She rolled over and went through the pockets of the coat. She found his wallet first. "That idiot!" No wonder it was taking the man forever. Aeris did not stop to wonder why he had not come back for his wallet. There were a lot of pockets in that coat and she was going to search them all.

She emptied the coat and surveyed the cache. There was a comb and a little bottle of leave-in conditioner, a compact mirror, some lip gloss, a small tube of a skin-toning facial mask (cucumber-melon scent with aloe extract), a nail file and a healthy collection of coupons to Spa Works.

"Oh my god, he's a flaming metrosexual!" Aeris could barely believe her eyes. Then she thought about it a bit and realized that it did explain a few things. She got dressed quickly and made her way back to her camp with all of Sephiroth's questionable belongings. Despite the long wait and the unexpected discoveries after, she slept very well that night.

Sephiroth, on the other hand, barely slept at all. The pepper spray still had not worn off by the time he was led into the police station. He had to be led through the booking process like a blind man.

"Come on, don't lock me up," he pleaded to whoever would listen. "I have a starving little kitty to feed. She won't sleep well if she doesn't get cream."

The bright flash from the camera used to take his mug shots made his eyes water and by the time he was yanked down the hall to his holding cell, things began to look much clearer. He did not exactly consider that a blessing though. Most of the cells were packed beyond sane reckoning with human vermin of the 'Desperate and Depraved' variety.

"Whooooeeee! That's a pretty one! Put him in here!"

"Yeah, we'll keep him company!"

Officer Smythe, a petite woman with a permanent expression of 'Just-Sucked-a-Lemon', took a wild swing at the bars with her baton and succeeded in momentarily driving the wild monkeys back. "There's no room in there for him," she snapped.

"Sure there is," someone hollered. "We might be out of bench space but he's welcome to sit on my flagpole!" The entire cell erupted into laughter. Sephiroth was relieved when young Officer Bransen led him further down the hall. It saved him the trouble of setting fire to the building immediately. He needed a moment to collect himself before starting the fireworks.

The cell at the end was almost empty. "You should be okay in here," Officer Bransen whispered as he ushered a sulky Sephiroth inside. "Don't worry. I wouldn't put you in there with those hooligans." He kept staring at Sephiroth through the bars as he shut the door. "I can tell you need to be treated...special."

Sephiroth edged away from the bars. The sooner he set this place on fire, the better. As soon as Bransen was gone, the swordsman whipped around to look at his cell-mates. He was relieved to see only two.

The first was a skinny old man with an eye patch. He looked Sephiroth over and went back to muttering grumpily in the corner. The second, however, one gave Sephiroth a turn.

What could only be described as a tattooed mountain of a man sat against the far wall. His mustache, long curly hair and wardrobe of spiked leather all screamed 'Biker'. It also helped that it was emblazoned in red on the sleeve of his jacket. He gave Sephiroth a grin and stood. He was easily about a foot taller than the soldier. Every alarm in Sephiroth's head went off. In this small space, without a weapon or materia, this fight could take a while, maybe a whole minute.

The man approached and Sephiroth found himself stepping backwards again. Just as he was getting ready to pounce, the man stopped and offered him a hand and spoke with a voice that seemed to rumble up out of the deepest caves of the Planet. "Hi, my name's Lucille. What's yours?"

"Uh, Sephiroth." The swordsman was confused now, but he shook Lucille's hand anyway. Lucille pulled him into a massive bear hug and then walked him towards the metal bunk.

"Sit down, Jailbird Seph. You don't mind if I call you that, do you? What are you in for?"

"Armed robbery," Sephiroth murmured. The pepper spray seemed to have shorted out a significant portion of his nervous system. He was beyond being disturbed by anything now.

"Armed robbery, eh?" Lucille was saying. "That could land you in the big one. You got a good lawyer?"

Sephiroth considered. His sword had always been a good enough lawyer for him, and if the judge happened to be female, he did have Mr. Masamune to plead his case. "Yeah, I got a lawyer," he mumbled. He did not really intend to stay long enough to need one anyway.

"That's good. Me, I'm in for a good, old Drunk n' Disorderly," Lucille stretched his legs out. "Barfight. Somebody insulted my Jessica and you know, it's a man's place not to let things like that slide."

"Yeah," Sephiroth nodded. "I know that." He slumped forward, utterly depressed. The night had started off so well. He had practically been assured of getting his wick dipped. Goddamn his lack of preparedness! Curses upon his forgetfulness! He'd had the woman right under him, for Titan's sake! How had he gone from being about to sauce the clam to sitting in the slammer with a big guy named Lucille?

Sephiroth sighed. It could have been worse. He could have ended up in one of the crowded cells and he'd had quite enough of the 'Shower Touchy' game as a recruit. At least Lucille kept his hands to himself, crazy bear-hug aside.

"Hey, what's the matter, Little Jailbird?" Lucille prodded him with an elbow. "This your first time, isn't it?" He nodded knowingly. "I know it's hard at first, but it gets easier."

"No, no, it's not that," Sephiroth leaned back against the wall. "It's just that, well, I had plans for tonight and this sure wasn't in any of them."

Lucille nodded knowingly. "You were gonna do some rough riding, right?"

"You bet your life on it! I was gonna nail that cat!" Sephiroth stood, wild-eyed and frantic with the thought of what he had come so close to having. "Dammit, I am Darkness Incarnate! My purple-headed demon was supposed to storm the Pearly Gates of Paradise! I was supposed to invade Heaven! I was going to set the snake free in the Garden of Eden and taste some fine forbidden fruit!"

A raspy voice hit him. "Ya wastin' ya time, boy!"

Sephiroth spun around to face the old man. The one dark eye was fixed on him and the man's toothless mouth was twisted into a snarl. "Wimmin's a waste o' ya time."

"Don't mind Willy," Lucille put in. "He's a regular nut."

"I see that," Sephiroth said as he reclaimed his seat.

"You don't know the half of it," Lucille said, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "He's in here for abusing the sheriff in public."

Sephiroth was confused. "What?"

Lucille glanced up to make sure that Willy wasn't listening. "He did it on the highway. I heard when the posse came out it hit somebody's windshield and that's when they called the cops on him. Public Indecency and Lewd Behavior."

"Oh." That was all the swordsman could say as realization dawned. Sephiroth had no problems with fisting the friar, but he drew the line at aiming at traffic.

Willy hobbled over, wagging a gnarled finger at the seated pair. "You young 'uns think the four-legged frolic's the best thing in the world, dontcha? I'm tellin' ya straight, wimmin's an entanglement no sane man keeps round forever. Better off beltin' yer own hog."

Sephiroth and Lucille exchanged a glance and Willy kept on going. "See, when you start with a female, it's all good, but then they gets to thinking about marriage and kids and alimony. And if ya marries 'em, ya can't ever get some when ya want it, cuz they're too tired, or on the rag. After wife number fourteen left me, I was done widdem. No more wimmen, no, sir, I had enough! I been running the one-legged race ever since and that's more than enough fer me. Now there's some method to milking the lizard for maximum satisfaction. I personally prefers..."

Sephiroth groaned and rubbed his forehead, wishing the cops had used bullets instead of pepper spray. Lucille leaned over as Willy continued the lecture on snake charming.

"Got a headache?" the biker asked. Sephiroth groaned again in response. "Lie down here." Sephiroth's eyes flew open as Lucille yanked his head down. The swordsman's cheek met hard leather biker pants. He was alarmed for a second, but Lucille only stroked his hair. "Take a nap. You'll feel better in the morning."

Sephiroth groaned again, but he could not really see any other options. His head hurt, he was tired and frustrated beyond belief and just did not have the energy for the spectacular blast his position as Evil Bad Guy required. He let Lucille keep stroking his hair as he closed his eyes and tried to tune Willy out.

"O' course, since you boys is young, ya probably gonna head after the females anyway, but if ya want to keep out a trouble, ya got to treat 'em like postage stamps. Lick 'em, stick 'em and send 'em on their way."


The early morning sun found Aeris and Tifa bathing in a stream a short distance away from their camp. Aeris was unusually glum.

"What's the matter, Aeris?" Tifa asked. "You're unusually glum."

Aeris sighed. "I was supposed to get laid last night, but when I sent him to get a diving suit he didn't come back."

Tifa went wide-eyed with shock but after a few speechless moments, was able to voice her anger. "Cloud's got some nerve! Want me to beat him up for you?"

Aeris giggled a little. "Thanks for the offer, but it wasn't Spike."

"Oh," Tifa said. "Vincent?"

Aeris grew serious. "Try not to flip out too much on me, okay?" She waited for Tifa to nod. "It was Sephiroth."


A flock of birds fled from the trees.

"I said it was Sephiroth," Aeris repeated.

Tifa was furious. "Aeris, what the name of Titan's tallywacker were you thinking?"

"I was thinking..." Aeris grew misty-eyed and her hands reached up to drift over whatever image her imagination was showing her. "I was thinking the he had the finest, tightest ass I've ever seen."

"Oh," Tifa said. "There is that." There was silence for about a minute. "So," Tifa began, "did you see if the carpet matches the curtains?"

Aeris grinned. "Yep. It sure does." The women giggled and finished their bath.


Cloud and Co. pulled into the quiet little town of Not-Perfect in the late morning. Eager for any opportunity to sleep in actual beds, they took rooms at the inn (which, in true Not-Perfect town spirit, did not offer a continental breakfast) with the intention of spending the night. The group split up to while away the hours with some well-deserved rest and relaxation.

Aeris, Tifa and Yuffie hit the downtown area for a shopping trip. Aeris had acquired some great coupons for Spa Works and the girls were not about to miss out on that. Barret had damaged his gun earlier and needed to get it looked at so it would fire straight again. Cloud locked himself in his room to sharpen his sword. Red XIII wandered off to the wharf in the hopes that someone would have pity on a kitty and give him some fish.

Cid and Vincent opted to keep each other company at the table in the common area. Vincent had bought a copy of the town's newspaper and graciously offered Cid first pick of sections. Cid took the Classifieds and immediately flipped to the Personal Ad section.

"Hmm," the pilot scanned the pages. "Single White Female seeking Burly Man for long walks on the beach. Nope. Youthful Divorcee seeking someone who can take punishment, leather fetish preferred. Not bad. Hey!" He zoomed in on one ad. "Young woman seeking Hot Yaoi Dou...Douji...Doujinshi!" He looked up from the paper. "What the hell is a 'Hot Yaoi Doujinshi'?"

Vincent was completely absorbed in reading his section of the paper and did not reply.

"Hey, Vinny!" Cid hollered and got the man's attention. Vincent looked up calmly. Cid pointed to the ad. "Am I a Hot Yaoi Doujinshi?" Vincent arched a dark eyebrow.

"Not by yourself," he said quietly and went back to reading.

"Oooh, kinky woman, eh?" Cid was intrigued. "Vince, are you and me together a Hot Yaoi Doujinshi?" He looked at the former Turk, grinning.

Vincent sighed sadly. "If that's what turns you on..." He ducked his head and went back to reading, though he spared a moment to wish that everyone would stop trying to get into his pants.

Cid frowned down at the paper. "That's no kind of answer. I still don't know what one of these things really is." It was just then that Barret returned from having work done on his gun. "Hey, Wallace," Cid turned. "Are you and me a Hot Yaoi Doujinshi?"

"Hell, no, Fly-boy! What's gotten into you?"

Cid was exasperated. "I'm just trying to figure out if I'm what this woman's looking for."

Vincent looked up over the edge of the newspaper. "You're not."

"Well, alright then," Cid settled into his chair. "Moving on."

Barret took the chair opposite and reached to the coffee table for part of the paper. "Oh shit!" The other two men looked up at him. Barret held the front page up. "Sephiroth's been arrested! Why didn't you guys tell me?"

Cid was surprised. "He was? I didn't know. Didn't look at the front page." Barret looked at Vincent, who seemed just as surprised.

"Goddammit, Valentine, I expected better from you!"

Vincent looked down dejectedly. "I just wanted to read the funnies."

Barret banged the chair in frustration. "We gotta go tell Cloud."


"I don't usually do this," Officer Bransen said as he walked down the row of holding cells. "But since it's the new one you've come to visit, I'll let you ladies through."

"Thank you, young man." Irene smiled at him. She followed a couple feet behind him with her hands carefully holding a big cardboard box and her eyes steadily directed below Bransen's waistline.

"Here he is," Bransen announced. He opened a small section of the bars, took the box from the old woman and slid it into the cell. "Be good to him. He needs...gentle handling." He turned and left. Ethel and Irene stared through the bars at the swordsman sleeping with his head pillowed on a huge biker's lap.

"Well, there's something you don't see everyday," Ethel murmured. "I didn't think he'd go for the husky kind."

"Now, Ethel, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I think it's sweet that he's found someone to look after him in here."

"If you say so," Ethel grumbled. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Rise and shine, pretty boy!"

The cell's three occupants stirred to life. Sephiroth got up and looked around. "What's going on?" He spotted the two hags beyond the bars. "Oh, god, I died and Hades is cleaning himself off with my soul."

"We brought you a present, dear," Irene said sweetly. She pointed to the box in the center of the floor. "There's plenty more where that came from."

Sephiroth stared at the box with apprehension and did not say a word. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. While he stared, Willy studied the visitors. The old man leaned forward on the bench and turned his one eye on Ethel.

"Sweet mother of pearl," the man murmured. "Them's a mighty fine pair of sweater puppies ya got there." Ethel gave him a look that could have withered any vine. Willy had been sent round the bend at the sight of a pair of large knockers and had apparently forgotten his previous policy. "Why so sour?" he drawled. "Is your basement leaking or is them hound puppies just not getting enough air? Tight underwear's a killer."

"I'm sure you know a lot about that," Ethel said acidly.

"Tight bra, I knew it," Willy nodded sagely. "You gotta set them critters free. Yard dogs like them ain't meant to be penned up. Ya got to let 'em socialize with other pups. I got a schnauzer that loves to play in pumpkin patches."

"That's a surprise. I thought your dog would be dead by now."

"Spunky, aren't ya? The Trouser Schnauzer might be old but he's as frisky as a pup." Willy grinned. "And he knows all the new tricks."

Ethel's glasses glinted. "Hey, I recognize you. You're the Highway Gobdropper." Willy grinned some more. Ethel was not impressed. "You are one sick piece of work."

"Oh my," Irene exclaimed. "Maybe we should go." She turned back to Sephiroth. "Enjoy your present, dear. There's plenty more where that came from. We'll be back tomorrow." She touched Ethel's shoulder. "Let's go, Ethel. We did what we came to do." They turned and began to walk down the narrow corridor.

Willy pressed himself against the bars. "Me and the dog'll be waiting for ya, if ya change yer mind."

"Roll over and drop dead!"

Irene looked even more worried and pushed Ethel along, hurrying her friend out of sight. Sephiroth was relieved to see them go. Lucille stretched and nudged him.

"Aren't you going to open your present?"

Sephiroth sighed. "I guess so." He retrieved the box gingerly from the floor and raised the lid. Inside there was a fresh cream pie. Sephiroth set the box aside and wrapped his arms around his bare chest. He could not stop shuddering. This whole thing was some kind of sick joke. It had to be. How else could he have gotten here?

He rocked back against the wall. Being propositioned was nothing new to him, but the shock of having so many proposals coming from such different sources in such a short space of time was beginning to get to him. The more time went by, the more unlikely it seemed that he would ever get to surf the Delta of Aeris.

"You going to eat that?" Lucille asked. Sephiroth shook his head. He wanted nothing to do with Old Lady Cream Pie. Lucille patted the man's shoulder gently. "You should at least break out a slice." He leaned in closer and whispered, "There might be a file in it."

Sephiroth shook his head. "Not likely." Lucille shrugged and reached into the box. He had to scoop the pie right out of the tray and break it by hand since his knife had been confiscated.

Sure enough, as he cracked the pie in half, something hard poked out. "Ah ha!" He grabbed hold of it and yanked, sending cream flying across the cell. Then he stared at the thing he held, confused.

The object, too soft to be a file by far, proved to be a Double D cup underwire brassiere.

A red one.

With lace.

"Uh," Lucille stared at the thing then held it up in front of Sephiroth. "I think this is for you."

Sephiroth looked up. There, inked into the left cup, was a note.

Put out if you want to get out.

Sephiroth buried his face in his arms, too distraught to speak or even remember his plan to set the entire place on fire. He had seen too many strange and terrible things in the last twelve hours. If things kept up at this rate, Mr. Masamune would probably drop dead, never to rise again. The twins would be orphans. Sephiroth whimpered at possible fate of his very best friend.

It was a cruel world.


...I am one sick nut.

Thanks to Akira Majere for lending support for this chapter.
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