Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 41: A Holly Jolly Turk Christmas Party

Costa del Sol was always warm. Year round, the temperature seldom dipped into a range that most people would even consider ‘chilly’ much less ‘cold’. When he’d left Midgar to catch his ferry in Junon earlier that morning, the snow had still been falling from the night before. He’d woken to an additional three or four inches on top of the two that had fallen before he’d gone to bed last night. It had continued to fall, even as the ship had departed Junon harbor.

And now, he was standing on a sunny shore, sweating in the long sleeves he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to shed after disembarking. Several people, who’d opted to spend their Christmas in the sand and surf rather than waist-deep in snow, meandered up and down the beach. A few were already in the water. Rude wished he had a little time to join them… but he had a plane to catch if he was going to make it to Rocket Town by lunch time.

His home town wouldn’t be quite so warm. In fact, there was likely more than just a little snow there, too…

He didn’t like to admit it… but he was nervous. This would be his first trip home since his promotion to the Turks, and his first time seeing his father since then, as well. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d be received. His father had barely even acknowledged that he was coming home for Christmas when he’d called to tell him a few weeks back. In fact, he’d come dangerously close to changing his mind altogether at least twice after that phone call… but in the end, he’d decided that he’d been away long enough. And maybe, in his absence, his father had changed a bit.

Regardless, it was too late to turn back now. He shouldered his bag and started toward the little airstrip a short distance from the docks, turning his back on the allure of the beach and wondering if Reno was enjoying the Kalm Christmas Festival.

---

Early on Tuesday morning, following their return from Kalm, Tseng woke to the sound of the smoke alarm blaring throughout his apartment. He sat up, casting the covers aside, and rushed into the hallway, the smell of burning thick in the air.

“Reno!?” he called out, wrenching open the door to the teenager’s bedroom and finding it empty. He made his way towards the source of the smoke, and walked into the kitchen to find the missing redhead fervently fanning the haze that appeared to be emanating from a pan on the stove out an open window.

“Sorry, boss!” he called out over the scream of the alarm, not pausing in his attempt at clearing the air. Tseng dragged a chair from the table over and climbed up, pulling the cover from the smoke alarm and prying out the battery. The din, at last, ceased.

“What in Leviathan’s name are you doing?” he asked, coughing slightly.

“Uh… Well, it was gonna be your breakfast. It’s more like a pan full of charcoal at this point. I was tryin’ somethin’ Rude showed me. It kinda got away from me. Sorry.”

Tseng laughed softly in spite of the early wake-up call. “I think you should perhaps stick to slightly less advanced recipes for the time being…”

“Heh… yeah. Probably,” the redhead grinned.

Tseng moved the chair back to the table, and filled the tea kettle, setting it on the stove to boil while Reno cleared away the remnants of his attempt at food.

“Why are you up so early?”

“Tch… To make you breakfast, obviously,” the redhead replied. He sighed and scraped the now extinguished contents of the pan into the trash. “I wanted to do somethin’ to thank you for takin’ me with you to Kalm. I had fun.”

“I wasn’t aware you had such a fondness for hypothermia,” the Turk lieutenant chuckled. Reno snorted in laughter.

“Yeah, okay, that part kinda sucked. But I liked the rest of it a lot.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Tseng replied with a smile. “Finish cleaning that up and get dressed. I think I’d prefer to go out for breakfast this morning. And after that, a trip to Sector 8. I spoke to Veld last night. He mentioned that he has a favor to ask of you.”

Reno looked up, blinking in surprise.

“Me? What’s he want with me?”

“He asked me not to say. Though I am permitted to tell you that it’s a surprise for everyone attending the Christmas party and requires a very particular expertise you happen to possess,” Tseng replied with a knowing smirk.

---

An hour or two later, Tseng and Reno were making their way – far too slowly for Tseng’s taste – towards Veld’s condo in Sector 8. Traffic was heavy this morning, owing at least in part to the additional snowfall they’d been receiving on and off for the past two days. At last, they reached their destination, sliding into one of the covered parking spaces out front. Tseng ushered the rookie up the cobblestone walkway and rang the bell.

A moment later, the door opened and an inquisitive little face peered out for a moment, before throwing the door wide.

“Good morning, Tseng!” a young girl of about twelve greeted the Turk, smiling widely, and Reno snickered quietly at her enthusiasm. She turned her gaze on him next, apparently only then realizing that the Wutaiian Turk wasn’t alone today, and stared, mouth open slightly, up at him, blushing. “H-hi…” she managed.

“Hey,” he replied, grinning.

“Felicia, this is Reno,” his mentor offered. He smirked slightly. “He’s the rookie you keep asking me about.”

“… Hi…” the girl squeaked again, going even redder. Tseng glanced sidelong at his rookie, arching an eyebrow.

“May we come in?” he prodded. Felicia nodded faintly and stepped back, granting them access… and, Reno was fairly certain, not taking her eyes off him the entire time. It took some effort not to laugh. He didn’t exactly have to wonder what was going through her head. He’d seen that reaction plenty of times… though it was usually from guys when he introduced them to Lira. Hell, for that matter, he’d hadthat reaction to the opposite sex more than once when he was younger. Sector 2 may have been dirt poor, but the girls working the streets were hot and he’d taken an interest fairly early. He had to admit… he was a little flattered, even if she was just a kid.

“Ah… Tseng. Reno. Glad you could make it over here,” Veld said, as he emerged from the kitchen. “Come sit down.”

They joined the Turk leader in the living room, taking a seat on the long, sectional couch near the Christmas tree that stood before the front windows. Felicia lingered a moment more before scurrying off in the direction of the hallway… though judging by the distinct sensation of being watched, Reno had a feeling she hadn’t gone very far.

“How was Kalm?” Veld asked. Tseng chuckled quietly and shook his head.

“Well… we all made it out alive…” Reno snickered, “So, ya know… there’s that.”

Veld cautiously raised an eyebrow. “Something I should know about?” he asked, looking over at Tseng.

“It… will all be thoroughly detailed in my report, sir,” he replied, “The important thing, as Reno said, is that there were no fatalities.”

The Turk leader sighed. “Will I be receiving an angry phone call from the President later today? Because if so, I would very much like to know ahead of time.”

“No, sir… Rufus will not be lodging any complaints. In fact, I doubt he’ll even mention anything that happened to his father. I think he learned a valuable lesson.”

“… See to that report immediately,” Veld replied with a faint laugh. Tseng smirked slightly.

“Of course, sir.”

“Well… at any rate, I suppose you’re wondering about this favor I need,” he continued, turning his attention on the redhead.

“Heh… I was gettin’ just a little curious, sir.”

“You’re free to refuse, of course… but I was hoping you might be up for doing a little bartending at the Christmas party. My wife and I can certainly handle the usual beer and such we have every year, but I thought the team might appreciate something a little different for once…”

Reno grinned widely. Truth be told, he’d always enjoyed working at the bar… it was one of the very few things he occasionally missed about being down in the slums. There really wasn’t much call for that particular skill set at headquarters, though, and given that he couldn’t even buy liquor up here without risking yet another arrest, he hadn’t even had much opportunity to practice on his own time, either.

“Hell, yeah, I’ll do it…” he replied, eagerly. Veld laughed quietly.

“Good. I’ll let you and Tseng handle the liquor purchases, and whatever else you might need for the evening. As it’s technically a company function, you can use the corporate account.”

Tseng shook his head and smirked. “I think Heidegger might have something to say about that, sir.”

“Hmph… Only if he were to find out. And Heidegger is not invited to our party, so that’s very unlikely to happen. Besides which… he’s cut our budget by five percent next year. I intend to use every last gil of the current one while I still can.”

---

Reno was still grinning widely as he grabbed two more bottles of vodka from the shelf and set them in the cart Tseng was pushing along behind him.

“… You do realize that you’re only serving eight people or so, don’t you?” the Turk lieutenant queried, eying the rapidly growing collection of hard liquor he seemed to be accumulating. Reno shrugged.

“Better too much than not enough.”

Tseng snorted softly and picked up one of the rookie’s selections. “And, I suppose, better top shelf than bottom,” he chuckled. The redhead smirked and added a bottle of grenadine before thinking better of it and grabbing a second from the shelf.

“When I’m not the one payin’ for it, you’re damn right…” he replied. As they passed the wine section, Tseng paused and reached for a mid-tier rosé bottled in Costa del Sol.

“The hell ya getting’ that cheap shit for?” the redhead asked.

“Because it happens to be a favorite of Esme’s,” he replied, and laughed, “And I believe I’d refrain from referring to it as ‘cheap shit’ in front of her. As I understand it, it also has some sentimental value. Apparently, she and Veld were sharing a bottle when he proposed.”

“Heh… Noted,” Reno replied, somewhat sheepishly. “So… I guess you know Veld’s family pretty well, then…”

“Mmm… Quite well. When I was first promoted to the Turks, I was… rather short on funds and in the process of being evicted. And contacting my father to beg for money was a bit too humiliating to endure. Veld took me in before I was forced to swallow my pride… or live at headquarters. I stayed with his family just long enough to save up for a more permanent home.”

Reno’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “How’d you wind up broke?”

Tseng glanced away for a moment, slightly embarrassed.

“I was not always as… responsible… when it came to finances as I am now,” he replied, awkwardly clearing his throat. “And, to be honest, I was somewhat homesick for a time. The more authentic of Wutaiian cuisine doesn’t come cheap in Midgar, and three meals a day adds up rather quickly, particularly when one is already on a tight budget. Actually, that was one of the reasons I wanted to keep you close when I first brought you aboard. I… didn’t want to see you fall into that same trap.”

Reno laughed quietly and went back to gathering supplies.

“That is not information to be shared, by the way,” the Wutaiian Turk added, sternly.

“Like anyone’d believe me even if I told ’em…” the redhead snickered.

“Reno…”

“Yeah, yeah…” he laughed, “I won’t let on about how you spent all your cash at expensive restaurants ’til you were homeless as a rookie. Your secret’s safe.”

He made a mental note, however, to ask Veld about his mentor’s rookie days the first chance he got. Preferably after a few shots of the Mideelian absinthe he was currently wedging in with the other bottles, and with as many fellow Turks present as possible.

---

The next morning, Reno yawned and rolled over, comfortable and content in his bed. He was in no hurry to drag himself out of his warm little nest. He curled in on himself, pulling his knees closer to his chest and snuggled against a pillow, all without dislodging the three blankets he’d piled on top of himself last night.

He’d slept this way for years. Most of his life, in fact… though it hadn’t always been because he found it comfortable. He could still remember sleeping like a ‘normal’ person… back when he was very small, and his mother used to tuck him in and sing to him until he drifted off. After she died – and after he’d run away from the orphanage they’d placed him in – he’d very quickly found that sleeping stretched out, tucked in, and vulnerable wasn’t how a person stayed safe living on the streets.

The first time he’d woken to the sight of beady eyes staring down at him, and realized that it was a huge rat perching on his chest was also the last time he’d ever allowed himself to wake up in that position. Ever since, he’d made it a point to protect himself in any way he could.

Sleeping in a ball made him a smaller target. Curling up under the blankets kept him hidden. He’d even learned to wake himself up at the slightest sound or movement. He wasn’t naturally such a light sleeper… At least he didn’t think he was. He certainly couldn’t remember waking up several times throughout the night back when he was little. Though, to be fair, that was so long ago now, that there really wasn’t much from back then that he did recall with any great clarity. Much of his childhood was something like a fading dream. There were specific instances that stood out starkly, etched forever in his memory… but in general? It was vague and fuzzy. He’d simply gotten older, and with that came new memories to take up brain space.

He yawned again, and fleetingly wondered if maybe it was time to stop sleeping like a kid on the streets. Hell, he wondered if he even could at this point. It was practically an instinct, he’d been doing it so long. But he didn’t need to do it anymore. He was safe and sheltered, and there weren’t any rats looking for a tasty morsel scrabbling around his bedroom.

That thought in mind, the redhead slowly uncurled himself, stretching out across the mattress. Not for the first time, he marveled how huge the bed was. He could easily fit four of himself in it. All that space and for the past… how long had it been? Nine, ten months? Tseng had recruited him in early spring, so yeah… somewhere around that. For all that time, he’d been locked into his old habit. It seemed so ridiculous.

And, in some ways, not ridiculous at all. He couldn’t deny that he was still a little shocked that he’d made it this long without being drummed out of the Turks. When he’d first arrived, he’d very nearly convinced himself he wouldn’t last a month. Reno grinned silently to himself. Forget a month… his very first week he thought he’d earned himself a one-way trip back to the slums. But somehow, he’d lasted. Tseng had refused to give up on him, no matter how badly he screwed up. And that meant more to him than words could ever express. No one had ever believed in him the way Tseng did.

Not even Lira. He shared with her his dream of leaving the slums not long after they met… and while she didn’t outright dismiss it, she’d done her best to temper that dream with a hefty dose of reality. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. Not many people did make it out of the slums, after all. She just didn’t want to see him grow up to be bitter and disappointed… they way so many other people in Sector 2 ended up.

Reno peered out from under the covers and slid them down to his chest, at last managing to flatten himself out on his back. He folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling above him. Laying like this felt… weird. It was definitely going to take some effort before he’d be able to fall asleep like this.

He sighed quietly and turned his head to look at the clock… and was surprised to see that it was going on ten in the morning. Tseng didn’t typically let him sleep in that long unless it was a weekend. Apparently that courtesy extended to holidays as well. His stomach suddenly growled, and, with a slightly annoyed grunt, the redhead rolled over.

“Ah, shut up ‘n let me sleep.”

A second growl, louder and more persistent than the first at last drove him to stagger out of bed.

“Alright, fine… I’m up,” he muttered. Reno stretched his arms over his head until his shoulder cracked sharply. It had been doing that ever since his injury on the gauntlet… but it wasn’t painful, so he largely just shrugged it off and ignored it. Actually, it felt pretty good, even if the sound itself was a little off-putting.

He opened the door and found the apartment quiet… though not abandoned. As he made his way down the hallway, he spotted Tseng in the living room, settled comfortably on the couch, the morning paper in his grasp as he sipped a mug of tea.

“… ‘Mornin’,” Reno said, with a yawn. The Turk lieutenant glanced up and chuckled.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were planning on sleeping straight through Christmas,” he replied, teasingly. “There are donuts waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“Sweet…” the rookie grinned and headed for the box sitting on the counter. Two of the sugar-coated pastries vanished in quick succession, before he picked up the box and carried it out into the living room. Tseng glanced up at him and shook his head.

“You might at least use a plate if you’re going to blatantly disregard the rule about no food outside of the kitchen.”

“Tch… You’re drinkin’ tea out here,” he pointed out.

“Tea is a beverage, not food,” his mentor countered.

“I could go run ’em through the blender…” the redhead offered with a wide smirk. Tseng snorted in laughter and dismissively waved a hand before turning back to his paper.

“I’ll allow it just this once… if only to save the kitchen from an even bigger mess.”

Reno snickered and planted himself at the other end of the coach, propping he feet up on the coffee table, and selecting his next donut.

“So… Party’s not ’til tonight. What’s on the agenda for the rest of today?” he mumbled around the pastry.

“Relaxing. If past Christmas parties are anything to go by, it will be a late night, and very few of us will be sober by the end of it,” Tseng replied, lightly nudging his rookie’s feet back onto the floor. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

The redhead swallowed sharply, forcing the food down, and grinned.

“Sounds like my kinda party. Soooo… um… when do we get to… ya know… open presents?”

“Feeling a bit eager, are we?” the Turk lieutenant teased.

“No! I mean… I just… uh… Maybe?” Reno stammered in reply, glancing up at Tseng sheepishly. “Okay, fine. I… I’m kinda excited. I don’t usually get… presents. Heh… unless you count Christmas sex from Lira. But I don’t really get to unwrap her…” He paused a moment, in thought. “Well… actually, I guess technically –”

Tseng chuckled quietly. “Reno, is there anything you don’t associate in some way with sex?”

“Nope,” the redhead replied, grinning. The senior Turk could only shake his head.

“In any event, gifts will be opened sometime after dinner, and then Veld or one of the others will likely have some form of entertainment planned before the whole thing ultimately devolves into a drunken fiasco and ninety percent of the party’s attendees wake in the morning wherever they happened to pass out the night before.”

Reno snickered. “I can’t tell if you’re lookin’ forward to that, or bein’ all disapprovin’ about it…”

“Both,” Tseng replied, with uncharacteristic snark. The redhead laughed and helped himself to another donut.

---

Evening set in, and with it came another round of softly falling snow. Reno sank back into the passenger seat of Tseng’s car, gazing silently out the window at the sight. He was really starting to love seeing it snow. Especially like this, when the sky was just beginning to darken, and everything was peaceful. Tseng joined him a moment later, and the redhead shuddered at the sudden draft that accompanied him until he shut the door.

Snow was beautiful… Cold, though, he could do without.

“Ready?” his mentor asked, and the rookie snorted softly.

“Boss, I’ve been ready since I woke up this mornin’…”

Tseng laughed and put the car in gear, and it wasn’t long before the pair were pulling up in front of Veld’s place once again. This time, however, the parking lot was crowded with cars… and one motorcycle tucked safely back in the corner of the sheltered parking. Reno snorted as he got out.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me. She actually rode that thing in this?” he said, gesturing towards the snowy sky. The wind was picking up now, and the snow was falling harder. “Man… Kai really is nuts.”

The redhead suddenly found himself planted on the ground, face pressed into a snow drift. His arms were quickly pinned, and he felt the entirely too familiar sensation of a knee in his back and a knife at his throat.

“And just who you are you calling ‘nuts’, my little baby Turkling?” a voice teased.

“You, ya lunatic!” he groused in reply, though his words were muffled by the snow. “Get the fuck offa me!” Kai giggled and released him, allowing him to climb to his feet. “Where the fuck’d you even come from…” Reno muttered as he brushed himself off.

Kai expertly flipped her blade around her fingers before resheathing it.

“Well… you see, when a man and a woman really love each other, they –”

“Kai, there is somethin’ seriously wrong with you…” the rookie declared, cutting her off… though he couldn’t quite hold back a snort of laughter. The shorter Turk only grinned in response.

“You guys need a hand with anything?”

“Kai McNamara is offering to help with menial manual labor instead of being ordered to do so?” Tseng shot back, somewhat incredulously, “There really are such things as Christmas miracles…”

“Nah, not really. I just heard that you two were bringing the booze tonight.”

“Ya know, I should cut ya off here ‘n now for tacklin’ me like that,” Reno replied. “Didn’t anyone ever tell ya that you don’t piss off your bartender? Somethin’ tells me your drinks are gonna be suspiciously watered down tonight.”

“Oh… sweet, naive little Turkling. You water down my drinks, you’ll be running the gauntlet on the highest setting it has until next Christmas…” Kai snickered. Reno narrowed his eyes, staring her down as he tried to determine whether she was kidding or if that was a legitimate threat. Something told him that, where the gauntlet was concerned, it might be better to err on the side of caution.

“Tch… You suck, ya know that?”

Kai laughed and clapped him on the back before turning to join Tseng in his effort at unloading the trunk of his car. They made their way up to the front door, their arms laden with liquor and gifts. Kai elbowed the doorbell repeatedly until footsteps were finally heard from within.

“Just hold yer damn panties, Kai… Fer fuck’s sake, I’m comin’!” a voice from inside shouted. A moment later, Sato flung the door wide open. Kai smirked and slipped past him, heading for long table set up along one side of the room… the makeshift bar for the evening. Sato flipped off her retreating back and then turned to the other two Turks, with a wide grin.

“Ha! ‘Bout time yeh two decided ta show up. People are gettin’ thirsty,” he said, by way of greeting.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Sato,” Tseng chuckled, following Kai’s lead.

“We the last ones here or somethin’?” Reno asked as he trailed his mentor indoors. Sato shut the door behind them, banishing the cold winter weather to the outside and laughed.

“Nah… We’re still waitin’ on Tres ‘n Remy. And Shay if he’s plannin’ ta drop in fer a spell before he’s off ta that fancy family get tagether o’ his. Saya ‘n me got here a might early… wanted ta beat the snow.” He dropped his voice to a loud whisper. “She dinnae like drivin’ in it, yeh know…”

“Aye, I don’t. And I’m not yet suicidal enough ta let yeh drive me in it, now am I, yeh bloody menace?” Saya exclaimed as she strode up to the little group. She leaned over and placed a kiss on Reno’s cheek. The senior Turk smiled at his slightly mystified expression and pointed above his head. The rookie glanced upwards and caught sight of a sprig of mistletoe hanging from a silver ribbon. Saya giggled. “My idiot cousin’s idea, o’ course. Pretty sure he just wants ta see what happens if someone were ta try ‘n kiss Remy. Or Tseng. Keep a wary eye out… I think he’s got more hidden ’round here.”

“Heh… I’ll keep that in mind,” Reno snickered, and hurried off to set his own load… which consisted of several gifts for the others, under the tree.

“Hey, barkeep!” Kai yelled over to him. “Make with the liquor already!”

“That is for after dinner. Have a beer for now,” Esme replied somewhat testily, emerging from the kitchen. “And for Shiva’s sake, at least let the poor thing take off his coat before you start in on him with your demands. He’s doing this as a favor for you lot, you know… Really. You’d think with all the training you Turks go through, basic manners would come up at some point.”

Sato suddenly laughed and reached into a bag sitting near the couch. He rummaged for a moment and at last pulled out a little medal on a green ribbon.

“Congratulations, Kai!” he snickered, looping it over her head. “Yeh win the prize fer ‘First Turk ta piss off Esme’! Means yer ahead… Everyone else’ll have ta work hard ta catch up!”

“What in Leviathan’s name are you talking about?” Tseng asked, and Sato’s grin widened.

“Thought the party could use a wee bit o’ excitement, so I’ve got awards fer yeh,” he replied, gesturing to his bag. “Trick is, though… yeh don’t get ta find out what yeh gotta do ta win one ’til yeh actually do it. Whoever wake up with the most t’morrow mornin’ wins the big prize.”

“What’s the big prize?” Reno asked, suddenly intrigued.

Kai snorted derisively. “Knowing Sato, probably something that’ll explode the second you look at it funny.”

The Mideelian Turk sniggered and plopped himself down into an armchair.

“Yeh’ll have ta win it, if yeh wanna find out.”

Reno was about to inquired further, but a new arrival interrupted him. Veld’s daughter, Felicia, stepped out of the kitchen, bearing a tray of Christmas cookies and made a beeline for the redhead, more or less ignoring the Turks closer to her in her effort to present the treats.

“Hi, Reno…” she said, smiling shyly as she held the platter up to him. “Merry Christmas…”

The rookie grinned and helped himself, biting the antlers off a sugar cookie reindeer. “Heh… Thanks, Felicia. Merry Christmas to you, too!”

The little girl giggled and scampered off, finally making the rounds to the others before vanishing back into the kitchen. Saya eyed the redhead for a moment before breaking into laughter, and Kai soon joined her.

“Reno’s got a girlfriend…” Kai teasingly sing-songed. The rookie rolled his eyes.

“Hey… Not my fault I’m irresistible,” he smirked.

Kai snickered and wrapped an arm around him, escorting him over to the couch.

“Aw, get over yourself… the kid’s twelve. She can’t help it if she hasn’t yet developed good taste in men…”

“Ha, ha, ha… Fuck you, Kai.”

Saya sidled up next to him, and gently elbowed him in the ribs. “Careful, sweetie… Yeh’d best not get caught under the mistletoe when Felicia’s around… Veld might have somethin’ ta say ’bout yeh havin’ ta give his wee girl a kiss.”

“Speaking of Veld…” Tseng chuckled, steering the conversation away from the pre-teen’s apparent crush on the rookie, “Where is he?”

“Hmph… Where do you think?” Esme scoffed. “There was a security alert at the office half an hour ago, and of course that man ran off to see to it. On Christmas Eve, no less. I swear…”

A figure suddenly slipped into the room, silently tiptoeing up behind the woman, and held a finger to his lips.

“… if my husband were any more of a workaholic, I’d never see him,” she continued, unaware of her unexpected shadow. By then, nearly all of the Turks were doing their best to repress the urge to snicker. “Why, I have half a mind to –”

Whatever Esme had half a mind to do, Reno never found out, because right at that moment, Veld grabbed her from behind, eliciting a shriek of surprise from his wife, and spun her around, kissing her. As he pulled away, he presented her with a parcel wrapped in shimmering red paper.

“I only told you that so you wouldn’t get suspicious. I had to go and fetch your present,” he chuckled, and then added with a wide smile, “Which I wouldn’t have to hide in my office if you didn’t spend the two weeks leading up to Christmas ransacking the house looking for it so you can peek…”

“Ooh… You are insufferable!” she declared, smacking him in the shoulder, but Reno could plainly see that she was trying to hold back laughter as she did so. She reached for the gift, but Veld quickly pulled it away and passed it off to his lieutenant who dutifully carried it over to the tree with the others.

“After dinner, my dear,” he said with a wry smile.

---

Reno bit back a yawn. Between the warmth of the fire burning merrily in the hearth and an extremely full belly, he was beginning to feel more than a little sleepy. Remy and Tres had finally arrived, and dinner had begun almost immediately… and gone on for several courses. Not that he was complaining about that.

“Wake up, yeh lazy wretch!” Sato demanded as he sat down hard enough beside the redhead on the couch to bounce the younger Turk several inches into the air. He laughed at the annoyed expression on the rookie’s face. “Come on, then… Up ‘n at ’em. Yer our bartender t’night, remember? ‘N I fer one could use a wee nip o’ that absinthe.”

Reno groaned faintly and dragged himself upright, stretching. He might have overdone it just a little on dessert. But Sato was right… he’d volunteered for this. Besides… moving around would wake him up soon enough, and the last thing he wanted was to end up being the first Turk to pass out tonight. Hell, he hadn’t even had a drink yet himself. He’d never live it down.

“Heh… Alright, alright… So who wants what?” he asked, grinning widely as he took up his position behind the ‘bar’.

“Scotch and soda,” Tseng answered before Sato could say anything. He smirked at the other Turk, adding, “Perks of seniority.”

“Make that a whiskey sour,” Veld replied, stepping in front of his lieutenant and chuckling. “Perks of seniority, after all.”

Kai giggled madly from her position on the floor near the tree. “And Tseng gets put neatly back in his place.”

Reno had to bite down slightly on his lower lip to stop himself from laughing – he didn’t think his mentor would appreciate it – and went to work, adding whiskey, lemon juice and simple syrup to an ice filled shaker. As he finished up and served it to Veld, he suddenly realized Kai had darted across the room and was now elbowing her way in front of both Tseng and Sato.

“Fuck seniority. Ladies first,” she said, with a snicker. Saya and Remy glanced at one another and quickly joined her.

“Hmph… yeh hardly qualify there,” Sato shot back, good-naturedly. Kai stuck her tongue out at him before turning to Reno.

“I’m in the mood for something… festive. And sweet.”

“Tch… That your way of tellin’ me to surprise ya?” Reno asked.

“That’s my way of daring you to prove you actually know what you’re doing back there,” she replied, grinning. Reno snorted softly and reached for a martini glass and a bottle of vodka. The liquor went into a shaker with ice, and was quickly followed with an ounce of amaretto. He smirked slightly and added a healthy dose of sweetened vanilla coffee creamer before shaking and pouring it into the glass. Kai arched an eyebrow. “What in Shiva’s name is that?”

“I call it a Christmas cookie martini,” the redhead replied, passing it over to her. Kai snorted a laugh and took a sip.

“… Goddammit,” she swore, sighing.

“What?” Saya asked, frowning slightly.

“I can’t make fun of it. It’s really good,” she replied, pouting as she made her way back to her previous seat. Saya giggled, and the diminutive Turk’s response even drew a quiet laugh from the normally rather uptight Remy.

“I’ll have one ‘o those, then,” the Mideelian Turk said, grinning.

“… Better make it two,” Remy added.

When everyone at last had a drink in hand – an in a couple of cases, one in each – Reno set about making something for himself while he was at it. Just as he was reaching for the vodka, though, he heard a faint sound behind him and turned to look. Felicia was standing somewhat awkwardly nearby, half hiding behind a tall potted plant.

“… Can I have a Cosmo Candle?” she queried. The redhead grinned.

“Can ya even tell me what a Cosmo Candle is?” he snickered, bending down slightly until he was eye level with the girl. She flushed, embarrassed, and shook her head.

“It’s what my mom always gets when Daddy takes us out to the eat at the Silver Swan.”

“Trust me… if ya don’t know what’s in it, you don’t wanna be askin’ me for it… ’cause it’s not gonna be anything like what you’re expectin’,” he replied, “But I’ll make ya somethin’ you will like if ya want…”

“Okay…” she agreed, smiling shyly. A minute or two later, he sent her off with her drink, back to the party.

“Ahem…” someone behind him announced himself, and Reno spun to find himself face to face with Veld.

“… Heh… Yeah, okay, before you murder me, I swear there wasn’t a single drop of alcohol in that. It was just grenadine, ginger ale, and lime juice. They call it a Zippy Niblett,” he said, hurriedly, holding his hands up in surrender. “And seriously, I have no idea where they came up with that name.”

Veld merely shook his head and chuckled quietly before rejoining the party.

It went on like that for the better part of two hours, with Reno making more and more… interesting… drinks, and even experimenting a little when given the opportunity, and the other Turks downing them one after the other. By the time Veld called them all together for gifts, Remy, at least, was definitely drunk, and a few of the others were well on their way. The normally reserved young woman teetered dangerously on her perch on the armrest of the couch. As Reno finally made his way out from behind the bar to join them, she turned a little too fast… and face-planted directly into Tres’ lap.

“Tch… If I’da known that’s all it’d take to get you to go down on me, I’da got you drunk ages ago…” the senior Turk snickered. Remy hurriedly backpedaled away from him and staggered to her feet, blushing, and glared as a chorus of laughter rose from the others. She took a swing at Tres, but missed by a mile, spinning herself in a circle in the process, and tripping over her own two feet. Reno caught her before she could end up on the floor… or back in Tres’ lap… and helped her over to a chair while she giggled.

Sato grinned widely. “And the prize fer first Turk drunk off their arse goes ta Remy!” he declared, producing another of his little medals and presenting it to her with a flourish. “Honestly didnae see that‘un comin’…”

Remy hiccuped loudly and pointed at the redhead. “It’s his fault…” she slurred, “Him’n’is Shiva-be-damned mar – hic – tinis…”

“Ha! Prize fer first Turk blamed fer somethin’ they ain’t responsible fer goes ta Reno!” Sato crowed.

“He’s the bartender! He made my drinks!” Remy protested.

“Aye,” Sato laughed, and tossed one of the medals to the redhead, “But he didnae force yeh ta down four of ’em ‘n a beer on top ‘o the wine yeh had with dinner… Tha’s on yeh, pet…”

Reno snickered as he caught his ‘prize’ and looped it over his head. He had to admit, he was a little curious just what it was Sato had in mind for the winner. Knowing the man, there were even odds that whoever won it would end up either ecstatic or deeply disturbed.

Esme and Felicia emerged from the kitchen with coffee and hurried to offer their guests a cup… though Felicia seemed to bow out of service a bit early so that she could claim the seat beside Reno and then sit silently as she tried – fairly ineffectively – to pretend that she wasn’t staring at him whenever he wasn’t looking.

“Well, now…” Veld said, “Before Remy loses consciousness –” The jab was met with an irritated scowl from the aforementioned Turk, who by then was making good use of the coffee presented to her. “– I think we ought to get to the presents. Felicia? Would like to hand them out to everyone?”

Reno smiled widely. This was the part he’d been looking forward to the most. Not just because he’d be getting stuff. Honestly, he could get nothing but socks and underwear and be perfectly happy. But until now, Lira was the only person who ever gave him anything at Christmas… and he appreciated it, but it also never failed to remind him of how alone he’d been. This was his first Christmas with this odd little family of misfits that he somehow managed to fit in with. He wasn’t alone anymore… and the pile of presents that was slowly accumulating in front of him was evidence of that.

Sato suddenly chucked another medal at the redhead.

“First Christmas as a Turk award,” he said with a grin. Tseng pointedly rolled his eyes.

“Sato… He’s quite literally the onlyone of us who could have won that so-called award.”

The Mideelian Turk shrugged. “Free point fer the rookie. Nothin’ ta worry ’bout. Yeh’ll have plenty of opportunities ta catch up.”

The Turk lieutenant snorted softly. “You’re assuming I’m foolish enough to wish to win one of your ‘prizes’. I believe I’ll forfeit now, rather than wait for the results. Whatever it may be, it’s entirely too likely to explode.”

“Ah, ah, ah… cannae let yeh do that. If I did, everyone might follow yer lead,” Sato smirked. “No forfeiture. Yeh win the prize, yer obligated ta accept.”

“Hmph… Well, now we know it’s going to explode,” Remy stated.

“Well, it had better not explode in my living room,” Esme warned, casting Sato a sharp look. Felicia finished passing out gifts and resumed her seat beside the redhead.

“I think that, seeing as it is indeed his first Christmas with us, Reno should be allowed to open the first gift,” said Tseng. The others murmured in agreement and the redhead grinned widely, reaching for the topmost present in his pile. It was wrapped in white paper printed with silver snowflakes and decorated with a an icy blue ribbon on top. A little tag tucked under the bow stated that it was from Sato. He glanced up at him.

“Um… This isn’t gonna blow up… right?”

Sato snickered. “Fer Titan’s sake… Do yeh all think I’m completely mad?”

“Yes,” several of the assembled Turks chorused, which only caused him to laugh louder.

Reno’s first instinct, before spotting the tag, have been to simply tear into the paper. He quickly rethought that tactic, however, and cautiously removed the ribbon, and then the paper, and then slowly lifted the lid of the box, bracing himself for whatever might be coming. When it didn’t explode in his face, he dared to peer inside.

“Fer yer new place,” Sato said, grinning as the redhead drew a set of lock picks out of the box, “Yeh know… fer when yeh inevitably lock yerself out after a night o’ drinkin’.”

The rookie sniggered and looked over at him. “Oh, good… Now I won’t have to get Rude to kick in the door for me every time.”

Saya rolled her eyes and smacked her cousin. “Yer the one who’s always getting’ drunk ‘n lockin’ yerself outta the apartment, yeh idiot.”

At that point, things devolved into a bit of a free-for-all, as the others delved into their piles as well. It wasn’t long before the floor of Veld’s living room was strewn with torn paper and bits of ribbon.

Eventually, Reno found himself reaching for a fairly large box in plain red paper. Several identical, save for their various sizes, boxes sat in front of the other Turks as well. The sheer utilitarian appearance of the gifts told him they were from Tseng even before he looked at the tag on his own. It was Tres who actually voice that opinion aloud.

“Heh… If that’s one not from Tseng, I’m liable to keel over in shock,” he snickered. “So what’d you get the kid? Too big for new socks… unless it’s a lifetime supply.”

Tseng chuckled at the gentle teasing. “Mock me all you like, Tres. But I prefer to give useful gifts.”

“Alright, who’s takin’ bets? My money’s on stationary. ‘Cause if he’s not plannin’ on doin’ something about the rookie’s shit handwriting soon, we’re all gonna go blind tryin’ to read his reports,” Tres continued. That comment elicited a ripple of laughter form every Turk in the room, and the redhead rolled his eyes.

Though he couldn’t exactly deny that his writing was terrible. But fuck it… that’s what happens when you more or less decide to stop going to what passes for school in the slums when you’re twelve years old. He’d learned enough to get by… and Lira had helped him improve on a few things after they’d met. His handwriting, though… even Lira hadn’t had much luck with that.

“The wee thing’s movin’ outta Tseng’s place in a couple weeks isn’t he?” Saya asked, joining in, “Ten gil says it’s bath towels.”

“Hmm… Put me down for five gil on the lifetimes supply of socks,” Kai piped up, grinning.

“Ha! Show what yeh know,” said Sato. “It’s a coffee maker. We all know the bloody rookie’s a caffeine fiend.”

“Heh… Veld? You gettin’ in on this?” Tres prodded. The Turk leader laughed and shook his head.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be very practical.”

“Well, if you’d all stop guessing and let him get around to opening it, we’d find out, now wouldn’t we?” Remy pointed out. She paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes slightly. “And as much as it pains me to say it… I agree with Sato. Reno can barely even function without coffee.”

Sato stared at his fellow Turk incredulously and then laughed. He reached for his bag and tossed her a medal.

“The award fer sayin’ somethin’ no one’d ever expect ’em ta say,” he stated, still snickering. Remy smirked and caught the little medallion.

“Tch… You guys done yet? Can I open the damn thing now?” the redhead groused, growing impatient.

“Go on,” Tseng replied, smiling. Reno torn open the paper and blinked in surprise before his face split into a wide grin.

“… What the bloody hell… ?” Sato queried, peering skeptically at the video game system the rookie had just unwrapped.

“Who are you and and what have you done with Tseng?” Kai asked, in a mock-accusing tone. Saya stood and wove her way through the paper carnage on the floor. When she reached the Wutaiian Turk she pressed a hand to his forehead, a look of feigned concern on her face.

“He dinnae seem feverish… but maybe one of yeh should give Dr. Ward a ring just in case…”

“Oh, for Leviathan’s sake…” Tseng sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation at the teasing. He batted her hand away from him and folded his arms across his chest. “It’s hardly shocking.”

“Aye, that’s the point! Yeh gave a teenage boy a video game. It’s damn nearly normal!” Sato chuckled. The Turk lieutenant scoffed.

“I’ll have you know that it’s an entirely practical gift,” Tseng shot back, “You said it yourself. Reno will be moving out in the very near future. It’s meant to keep him busy off duty so he stays out of trouble.”

Reno laughed along with the others and grinned.

---

Tseng felt himself drifting off. Actually, he’d been slowly falling asleep for quite some time by then… which, given that it was going on two in the morning wasn’t exactly shocking. But the others had, for a time, been noisy enough to prevent him from passing out completely. Bar service had resumed once the last gift have been opened and an impromptu game of Never Have I Ever had started shortly after. It had gotten quite… raucous. Particularly after Sato had started handing out oddly specific ‘awards’ for things like ‘Turk carrying the most knives’ – which had gone to Kai after she’d thrown one at the drunken Mideelian, pinning his sleeve to the wall. An impressive feat, really, given that she was easily a drunk as he was at the time. Tseng just hoped she’d actually been aiming for the sleeve.

Now, though, they’d gone silent. More or less. Sato was snoring quite loudly on the floor near the bar. Tseng felt someone place a blanket over him and he roused himself, finding himself face to face with his mentor. Veld smirked.

“Not yet asleep, eh?”

“How could anyone not thoroughly inebriated manage to sleep with that going on?” he snorted, nodding toward Sato. As if to prove his point, the Mideelian Turk gave an excessively loud snore and rolled over. Veld laughed softly.

“Point taken. Well, then… since you seem to be the only one still conscious, I suppose that means you get the guest room.”

Tseng sat up and yawned before getting to his feet.

“A generous offer…” he replied, making his way over to where a certain redhead had curled up under the Christmas tree. He knelt down and lifted him off the floor. “But I think I’ll let someone else have it.”

Reno shifted in his sleep and tucked his head in against the Turk lieutenant’s shoulder, murmuring something incomprehensible before settling in comfortably. Tseng smiled faintly and shook his head at the scent of alcohol. Acting as bartender hadn’t exactly keep the rookie out of his stock… and apparently, when drunk, he was far less easily woken from his slumber.

“He looks so much younger than seventeen when he’s asleep…” he commented, following Veld down the hall toward the empty bedroom. The Turk leader laughed quietly.

“He looks younger than seventeen even when he’s awake,” the man teased.

“True,” Tseng chuckled. Veld pulled aside the covers and Tseng set his charge down on the bed and tucked him in. He ran a gentle hand through the redhead’s hair. “I sometimes worry that I’m becoming too attached to him on account… And I worry that I worry too much about him.”

Veld snorted and escorted him out of the room, leaving the redhead to sleep. “Oh, that has nothing to do with his age. No one trains a first rookie and doesn’t get attached to them. In fact, you are personally responsible for at least half of the gray hairs that have shown up in my beard over the years. I suspect he’ll be responsible for just as many of yours someday.” He smiled and rested a hand on his protege’s shoulder. “Take it from someone with experience. He’s yours… he’ll always be yours. And you will always worry. It comes with the job.”

---

Reno groaned faintly and forced his eyes open. He’d certainly felt worse after a long night of drinking, but he was most definitely a little hungover. Right now, he could really go for some coffee and some very dry toast. And maybe some eggs. And bacon. And now that he thought about it, pancakes sounded pretty good, too. Alright… so he probably wasn’t really that hungover.

He started to get up, only to look around at his unfamiliar surroundings. It took him a moment to figure out where he was when he realized that he wasn’t where he remembered falling asleep last night. He gave a wide yawn, ignoring the faint pounding that had begun in his temples and made his way to the door, opening it and peering out into the hallway. First things first. He needed coffee.

As he wandered into the living room, he had to bite back a laugh. It looked a bit like a warzone. Though they’d cleaned up a little before they’d started drinking again, there were still remnants of wrapping paper scattered about. Add to that several glasses and beer bottles and half-empty liquor bottles. But far more noticeable were the bodies that were sprawled in all corners of the room. Sato was snoring heavily next to the bar, the now mostly-empty bottle of Mideelian absinthe clutched to his chest like a teddy bear. Kai and Saya were propped up against one another on the couch. Tres was passed out in the corner near the kitchen, leaning back against the wall, a whiskey bottle in one hand and a highball glass in the other. Remy was curled up in a chair near the fireplace.

The redhead glanced around the room, but didn’t see Tseng anywhere. He did, however, hear a soft noise from the kitchen. Curious, he stepped over Tres’ legs and slipped into the next room. Esme turned away from the stove as he entered and smiled.

“Well, merry Christmas…” she said quietly. “You’re the only one besides Tseng to recover so far.”

“Heh… Merry Christmas. Where is Tseng, anyway?”

“Oh, that fool husband of mine. He snuck down for a four a.m. snack… and managed to knock over all of the orange juice I’d got for breakfast,” she chuckled. “Tseng offered to run out and see if any of the stores were open this morning… though I’m not getting my hopes up. Most people’ll be home with their families. Have a seat. Coffee’ll be ready momentarily.”

“Ya read my mind…” the redhead grinned. Esme smiled and turned back to the pan on the stove, from which the scent of frying bacon was emanating. He sat there, quietly listening to the senior Turk still snoring away in the next room. A minute later his hostess set a mug in front of her guest and filled it from the freshly made pot of coffee. Reno added his usual metric ton of sugar, and took a sip.

“Mom, do you think Daddy would be upset if I shoved a sock in Sato’s mouth?” a small voice asked in a vaguely annoyed tone as Felicia walked into the kitchen, oblivious to the presence of the rookie. Reno laughed right about the time he attempted to swallow and ended up choking. He alternated coughing and laughing for several seconds before finally calming down enough to catch his breath.

“Well… If I wasn’t awake before, I am now…” he sniggered. “Mornin’…”

Felicia went several shades of red before squeaking a faint ‘good morning’ and hurriedly retreating back in the direction she’d come from. Esme giggled softly.

“I think she’s got a little bit of a crush on you,” Esme whispered, winking at him. “Don’t worry… She’s just at that age.”

The back door opened, and Tseng stepped inside, brushing snow from his shoulders.

“Any luck?” Esme asked.

“Limited success,” the Turk lieutenant replied, offering her a shopping bag. “The only place that was open this early on Christmas Day had exactly one bottle of orange juice left. But they had plenty of apple juice to make up the difference.”

The woman smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to Tseng’s cheek.

“Thank you, Tseng. You’re always so sweet. I hope you didn’t have to go far. You were gone awhile.”

“Just over to Sector Three.”

Esme rested her fist on her hip. “Tseng Itsudake. You mean to tell me you drove half-way across the city on Christmas morning for a little orange juice? For goodness sake…” She shook her head, and laughed softly to herself.

“Heh… fuckin’ over-achiever…” the redhead snickered as he polished off his coffee and got up, heading for the living room.

“And just where are you going?” Tseng chided, “Given that you’re awake and apparently not in abject misery, you could lend a hand.”

Reno laughed. “Boss, come on… you’ve eaten my cooking. The only person who’d be less of a help in the kitchen is you. ‘Sides… I am gonna help. I’m gonna go do everyone a favor… and shove a sock in Sato’s mouth before his snoring drives us all nuts.”

---

It was well after noon before they finally made their way home again. Reno was happily clutching his ‘prize’ from having accumulated the largest collection of Sato’s medals… including the one for Least Hungover Turk, which both Tseng and Veld had been disqualified from receiving, owing to the fact that neither’d had enough to drink the night before to actually get drunk.

“… Just what is it?” Tseng asked as they made the turn onto the freeway. The redhead grinned.

“Sorry, Boss… I’m sworn to secrecy.” His grin quickly widened. “Not sure who I’m gonna use it on yet, but when I finally do decide, it’s gonna be epic…”

The Turk leader eyed him suspiciously and sighed. “At least tell me that it’s not illegal.”

“Eh… Kinda depends on how much a Turk can get away with,” Reno replied with a teasing smirk. Tseng groaned and switched lanes, heading for their exit.

“Whatever it is, please don’t use it on Rufus. I’d rather you not be fired. Or murdered.”

“Tch… take all the fun out of it, why don’t ya…” he teased, still grinning. Tseng silently prayed that the new year would not begin with a trip to the police station to bail the redhead out. Again.

---

Rude unlocked the door to his apartment, quietly walking inside and setting his bag down on the side table by the door. He sighed and flicked on the lights, and was greeted by the familiar sight of home.

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have been back until the day after tomorrow, but… he hadn’t been able to stand staying another day. It wasn’t as if he and his father had fought or anything like that. Hell, a fight might have even been preferable to the cool indifference he’d been subjected to. At least then, his father might have said more than two words to him. He’d felt like a stranger in his own home from the moment he’d arrived, and by the time he’d left, he’d come to the sad realization that… it really wasn’t home anymore.

Though, if he were being honest with himself, it hadn’t been home for a long time.

He still didn’t entirely understand. His father had never been an especially affectionate man, but he’d never been so… distant. At least not when Rude was a child. Not before his mother’s death. Afterwards, though… he was a very different person. And now, he was almost unrecognizable.

Rude made his way into the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. He silently cracked it open and then made his way out into the living room, planting himself on the couch and taking a long sip.

A part of him – a large part, at the moment – wished he’d just stayed in Midgar for Christmas.

~end of chapter 41~