Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Characters/Pairings: Sephiroth/Cloud, Assorted Clones
Summary: Pancakes and a bit too much company.
"Another one?" Cloud asked, looking up from the stove where he was desperately trying to keep pancakes from burning.
"I didn't know there were so many either!" Sephiroth replied, standing beside a reasonable likeness of himself, save that the copy had deep brown hair instead of silver.
"I just felt the urge to come here," the man said, obviously somewhat oblivious to his true identity as a clone.
"We need more pancake batter," Cloud mumbled, wiping his hands on his apron and heading for the fridge. "This is getting ridiculous."
"Is there anything we can do to help?" another clone, who had just finished his plate of pancakes and eggs, asked as he stood.
Two clones were already working on a mound of dishes, and a third was haphazardly working on a catalog of information about his 'brothers'. So far, ever since Sephiroth had attempted to call all the remaining clones to him, a dozen men had arrived at the small cottage he and Cloud shared. In reality, neither had expected such a respone.
But as the men did come, they arrived bringing stories of other research facilities and other experiments. Cloud half expected Zack to show up amidst the throng, though his hopes for that were growing dim.
"Flip the pancakes," Cloud suggested, regretting that Tifa had ever taught him how to cook.
While that clone busied himself, the real thing slipped over to wrap his arms around Cloud, who was trying to juggle the last of the milk and a half-used carton of blueberries.
"You aren't helping."
"You always say that," Sephiroth replied, nipping at Cloud's neck. The cool air wafting out from the fridge was a welcome reprieve from the hot kitchen, and Sephiroth decided that holding his position for a minute wouldn't hurt anything.
"Because you aren't..." Cloud let his voice fade out as Sephiroth licked his ear, tongue playing over the small steel ball it found there.
"Let everyone worry about their own breakfast," Sephiroth said, reaching to take the food from Cloud's hands so he could hand it off to someone else. So far all of the clones had been fully formed and quite competent - they really could handle such a simple task.
Cloud found himself staring at a room of demi-Sephiroths, a few of which were rather convincingly similar to the original. But he knew; he'd always know.
"At least I know which one is you."
Just then, one of the more convincing clones turned from where he had been putting dishes away. Blue eyes met green and suddenly Cloud shivered.
Drink Lemonade! Tip Your Waitress!