The Fast, The Smart, and The Russian

"You're going too fast, we're gonna slide!" Shouted Twitch.

IQ, feeling particularly fed up at the moment, drifted the car around the bend.

"Sacrebleu!" Twitch yelled as the centrifugal force pushed her against the car door.

IQ smiled, the French were always the easiest to scare according to her family. Additionally, being comfortable next to a panicking passenger made her seem all the more competent behind the wheel.

"I probably shouldn't send her into a panic attack before we get to the party." IQ thought as she pulled out of the drift.

It was dark out, which made the headlights reflect brightly off the snow. It was the first 'white Christmas' IQ had seen in many years, so many she couldn't remember how many it had been. "At least nine" she concluded.

It was light when she left Leipzig, and the sun was starting to set by the time she picked up Emmanuelle from Nancy. Now, it was easily past Eight, and it had been snowing since she started driving. With at least thirty centimeters of snow on the sides of the road, IQ was starting to empathize with Twitch, and decided to take turns slower.

"Calm down, we're almost there" IQ said with a firm grasp on the wheel.

Despite having been deployed with Rainbow Six for the past year, IQ still knew the roads of her hometown, even in the dark. Within ten minutes, they were pulling up to IQ's family's chalet-style house.

Passing other parked cars, IQ thought she saw a Russian Lada parked amongst the familiar Volkswagens, Mercedes', and Audi's. Ascending the stairs, they held their jackets close to fend off the cold, until IQ knocked at the door. The gentle murmur of family conversations dulled until the door was opened by an old woman.

"Oma!" IQ exclaimed as she embraced the old woman.

"Monicka! I'm so glad you made it! Come in, come in- it's freezing out there!"

Twitch followed IQ in quietly, until the old woman spoke, "This must be the guest you told us about." The old woman motioned towards Twitch.

IQ spoke first, "Oma, this is Emmanuelle, I work with her."

The old woman's face remained unchanged from it's previous look of enthusiasm, "It's nice having you here, Emmanuelle. Please, try some of the food, I've been cooking since six this morning!"

Twitch got the message and began a slow walk to a table against the wall with several plates of what she recognized as hors d'oeuvres.

"Monicka, why is she here? Doesn't she have a family to celebrate with?"

"Oma, her family went abroad to celebrate, unfortunately the tickets were too expensive to get her a seat on the plane since her leave started yesterday." IQ explained in a hushed voice.

"Oh, I get it. Well I'm glad you brought her here instead of leaving her alone. No one should be alone today." The old woman reassured.

IQ turned around and immediately ran into Twitch who was standing right behind her.

Twitch regained her balance before asking, "where's your water closet?"

IQ turned to her right and pointed down a dark hallway, "It's the last door on the left."

Twitch uttered a thanks and made her way down the hall. To her dismay, a light shown from under the door. Taking this as a sign of occupation, she leaned against the opposite wall and waited. Eventually, she heard a toilet flush and the sound of the sink running as the occupier washed their hands.

Bright light flooded from the bathroom into the dark hallway for a brief moment before it was blocked out by a towering man. The contrast from the light was more than Twitch expected as she collapsed from system shock. However, instead of hitting the floor, she felt herself be caught in a pair of strong arms, oddly clothed in coarse canvas.

As Twitch's eyes adapted, she saw not a face, but a round, metal helmet with two eyes behind a visor. "Privyet, Emmanuelle."

"Tachanka?" Twitch mustered.

"Indeed".

Moments passed like grains of sand in an hourglass until Twitch was brought back to reality, "Are you going to stand back up? I could keep holding you up but I want to get back to the party."

Twitch scrambled to her feet inn embarrassment, "Right, um, I came here to use the bathroom."

"Me too," Tachanka retorted comedically, "I'd best be getting back to the party. Oma will be wondering where I went." Tachanka chuckled as he strode down the hall back into the living room.

Twitch stood still until she could hear his voice establish itself amongst the gentle murmur of the living room. "Right, I came here to use the bathroom." She reminded herself.

IQ did a double-take on the hallway as a towering, armor clad visage seemingly burst from the dark depths of the unlit corridor. "What the fuck?" She said quietly.

Looking around, she eventually found the family matron, "Oma, why is Tachanka here?"

IQ's grandmother looked lost for a moment, and then refocused in an instant, "Oh, him? I met him a while ago in my Kraftwerk group."

They both looked over to see him take a chyeburyek from the hors d'oeuvres table, "do you know him?" Oma asked.

"Yes, he's part of Rainbow Six. But why is he here? More importantly, why was he in a crafting class with you?" IQ hurriedly asked.

"I invited him because he celebrates Christmas on January seventh and wouldn't have anything to do tonight. Also, he was at the class to fix his mounted LMG; I guess we were the only ones with the right sized pipe-cleaners." Oma looked over to see Tachanka walking towards them, "I don't know why you're asking so many questions. He's a nice man, and he and I were alive to see a lot of history. I can't talk to most other kinder here about it without it being second-hand history."

The floor quaked slightly as Tachanka took his final steps before positioning himself expertly within conversation distance, "Privyet, Monicka."

IQ was quick enough to instigate mild hostility, "Hello Tachanka. Oma was just telling me about the circumstances of your attendance at our family Christmas party."

Tachanka's eyes took on a questioning look behind his helmet, "Oma?" He paused for a moment and glanced at the ceiling, "Oh, your grandmother. Now it makes sense; it's been years since I've spoken German, you see."

IQ gave a sarcastic smirk, "Well, it was nice meeting you here Tachanka," she turned back to her Oma, "I take it you have the usual Christmas fare?"

Oma chuckled, "Oh yes, dear. I wouldn't be happy with a table of snacks. In fact, the sauerbraten should be ready right about now."

IQ forcefully threw the door open out of familiarity, "ah, it's nice to see my old room is just as I left it."

Twitch followed closely, looking around to take in the scenery. The walls were decorated with family pictures, awards, and the occasional assembled model. A desk sat pressed against the wall behind the door; covered in various electronics and derivatives of such. All of which was coated in an appropriately thick layer of dust.

Twitch made her way to the desk and picked up what looked like a maimed toaster, "I see you like electronics as much as I do."

IQ, standing by her bed, turned around with a sinister smirk, "maybe more".

Slowly, IQ withdrew a long, diabolical looking phallic object from her pocket. Twitch was taken aback, and said with wide eyes, "There must be at least ten kilometers of internal wiring in… that."

IQ, with an unfading smile, held the electric erection in front of her, "and it runs on batteries."

Twitch took on a look of aggressive enthusiasm; and began to step towards IQ, "does anyone here know?"

IQ shook her head from side to side, before holding a finger vertically in front of her lips. Simultaneously, she also withdrew a ball gag from under her pillow, "insurance" IQ remarked. Twitch continued walking until she was a pace away; only to be cut off by a loud knock at the bedroom door.

"IQ? I was told this was your room and that you may have those pipe-cleaners I liked…" Tachanka took a step through the door and immediately paused at the sight he was met with.

Everyone stood frozen, mechanical member in hand, until Twitch broke the silence for the first time that night, "I've got pipe cleaners, Tachanka, but you'll have to earn them."

IQ looked over angrily, "are you serious? He's at least fifty, and a Russian too!"

Twitch tore her gaze away from Tachanka's camouflage clad biceps and soviet patches to look back at IQ, " we can't just let him leave, what if he tells your grandmother?"

IQ pondered for a moment, "fine, close the door behind you, and keep the helmet on."

Tachanka turned around and closed the door quietly, "wall: reinforced" he whispered.