Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII belongs to Square, and I've been told that they're not giving it to anyone for Christmas, no matter how good they've been.
Author's Note: I am aware that the holiday of "Twelfth Night" actually refers to Epiphany, which takes place after Christmas. When I started the story - a month and a half ago - I had only planned to use "The Twelve Days of Christmas". Once I got into it, though, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to finish it in time for the holiday if I restricted myself that way (I almost didn't make as it is), and went another route. Even so, the title still fits - it'll all become clear by the end.
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
Elena tucked her hands into her elbows, shoulders hunched against the bitter wind that swept down to the alleyway. Winter had descended firmly on Midgar. The first flakes of snow had made their appearance in a flurry the day before Thanksgiving, and by mid-December, the city was blanketed in white. True, leaving the Shin-Ra building without an overcoat had been her own choice - some might even be willing to let it pass as a mistake - but she hadn't wanted to go into the lounge where the boys were talking to retrieve it.
Damnit, Reno. Why've you always gotta be so cruel?
She doubted that the sanguine-haired Turk had known she was standing outside the door when the conversation began, but she wondered if it would have made a difference if he had. Reno was...thoughtless. That was it, pure and simple. And it wasn't simply with regard to people's feelings - other than Official Turk Business, she'd never known the man to have a thought in his head other than beer and women.
Women. She kicked at a rock that lay in her path, brown eyes following its journey. Aided by the thin sheen of ice on the sidewalk, it skidded across the street and sank into a brownish, half-melted pile of snow outside the neighbouring storefront.
I know how it feels. Kicked away, that's me. Tseng's in love with some girl he grew up with, and me? I'm just Elena. Just the new kid on the beat.
Some days, she wondered what the point of it all was. You get up, you go in, and then you might as well not even be there. Tseng said you'd make a great Turk someday, but how is someday going to come if no one even realizes you're there? Tseng's got the brains, Rude's got the brawn, and Reno's got the bottles and the blunt objects. You? What have you got? Nothing but a broken heart from fallin' in love with the boss.
Yea, that's me.
She shrugged, and her reflection shrugged back. As she turned away, the carol began again; coming from the garish display of lights, tinsel, and a cheap tin carousel in the window above the snowdrift.
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
...nothing, because he can't see.
* * *
It's the most wonderful time of the year!
"I cannot express to you," Rufus spat, "how much I despise the holidays."
"Sir?" Tseng lofted a dark brow.
"They're a catastrophe waiting to happen, Tseng." The strawberry-blonde Vice-President scowled and tilted his chair back, both booted feet tossed onto the desk. Tseng pursed his lips, finally opting not to lecture the younger man on posture. He wasn't a child anymore, after all; and it had never had much of an effect when he was.
"Sir, I understand that the company banquet didn't go well, but is that any reason to...well...start doomsaying the entire season?"
"Tseng." Rufus chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You've never been to the company Christmas party, have you." It wasn't a question.
The darker-haired Turk responded anyway. "I can't say that I've had the opportunity, Sir. Normally, if I'm in the building on Christmas, it's for security purposes."
"You ought to come this year." Smirking, Rufus swung his feet down again and pushed the chair away from the desk. "It's a singularly appalling experience." Black-gloved hands clasped behind his back as he stepped to the window. "Dad throws the banquet and the Christmas ball every year as a show of 'goodwill' toward the employees. Everyone knows it's just a façade for the public, of course - but who's going to turn down the chance to party on company money?"
"I would imagine no one, Sir."
"And you'd be right." He reached up to flip a lock of hair from his eyes. "Hell, even I won't. Not that I'm given the choice, you understand. The President's son has to be at these events. It's good for him to socialize, in preparation for the day it's all his." A snort. "Socialization. That would suggest that these people are civilized. But most of them are still behaving the same way they did the first time Mother decided I was old enough to come. I'll assume it's a valid glimpse into the history of the first Shin-Ra company Christmas ball."
The Turk rolled his eyes. "At this point, you're tempting me to ask what it was that you didn't find under the tree that jaded you so."
"Tseng." Rufus spun to face the man, blue eyes narrowed. "I can tell you down to the stroke of midnight what will occur at that party. If you don't believe me, then you can come and see for yourself. There's your invitation. And if it doesn't, I'll see to it that you - and the Turks - get two weeks of paid vacation time in the company condo in Costa del Sol."
"Make it three, and you're on." The corner's of the man's mouth twitched with repressed amusement."
"Consider it your Christmas bonus, then." The Vice-President grinned lightly. "To begin with, Scarlet will drape herself around me like a mink wrap, and reminisce about the time we met. Which, by the way, was on Christmas. I can handle that, especially considering that she gets her Christmas bonus for dressing like an elf from the Honeybee Inn."
"...you mean you'll be handling her, then," Tseng noted dryly.
"Shut up or I'll dock your vacation time, Tseng." He waggled a finger in mock-admonishment and settled on the end of the desk. "Dad will walk in with his slut-of-the-hour on his arm and head straight for the bar - I've always assumed it's because she can't stand the sight of him, and he wants to get her liquored up enough to do a public striptease. Speaking of which, don't drink anything you didn't see opened and poured with your own eyes. We think Hojo might be spiking the eggnog."
"...people actually drink eggnog?"
"...you know, you have a point there." Rufus pursed his lips, and shrugged. "Let's not tell him any different."
"My lips are sealed, Sir." He grinned.
"I knew I could count on you, Tseng." The black-gloved hands curled around a knee. "Palmer will, undoubtedly, stand by the buffet making rocket ships out of cheese and toothpicks all evening - and I can already tell what you're about to ask, so don't bother." He shook his head again. "Because the true horror arrives at midnight, when Heidigger comes down the stairs with his beard painted white. He's the other half of Scarlet's conditional Christmas bonus - and, I'd wager, the reason none of the employees bring their children to the party anymore."
Tseng twitched. "I can see where that would ruin Christmas for someone, yes."
"They tried to put me on his lap, Tseng! Me! On the lap of that tub of lard with the Castro complex!" Rufus shuddered. "Needless to say, little Rufus Shinra didn't get anything but coal in his stocking that year. But Heidigger got a swift kick in the balls - or at least, that's what I was aiming for; I couldn't tell - and that more than made up for it. The expression on his face..." He snickered. "So, he'll wander around looking for someone to foist his sack of goodies off on - "
Tseng would later swear that Rufus paled to the same shade of his coat with that wave of nausea.
" - until Scarlet either slaps him for asking her to sit on his lap, or slaps Dad for asking her if she wants to try for a raise. In his pants."
"I would have thought that your father would have more class than that."
"...not when he's been drinking."
"Well, if nothing else, Reno and Rude ought to enjoy the party." Tseng smirked.
"I'm sure." Rufus snorted. "Someone should. But it won't be me."
There was nothing the Turk could say to that, so he simply nodded.
"I'll take your word for it, Sir. If there's nothing else...?"
"No, go." The Vice-President waved his hand dismally.
"Thank you, Sir. Do you want me to pick up a present for you while I'm out?" The dark-haired man winked, ducking out the door before Rufus could retort.
* * *
Silent Night...
The clock on the wall had a sweeping second hand; thus, the only sound in the near-deserted employee lounge was the rustle of newspaper as Rude turned the page.
* * *
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...
Red and blue lights twinkled merrily throughout the branches of the plaza Christmas tree that welcomed shoppers to the Midgar Mall. Everywhere, there were streamers of tinsel or coloured cellophane; the majority of it waving in the breeze of the heater vents.
Man. Elena would love this place. Hell, she's probably already been here ten times this week.
Reno shoved his hands into his pockets and glowered at the singing bears parked at one side of the walkway. Singing bears that were painfully off-key. The Turk had to wonder how anyone - anyone - could find holiday cheer in a mangling of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." Or if there was any chance someone might agree strongly enough to take out a contract on whoever came up with the idea. That's one hit he'd do for free.
Hell. He'd pay for the privilege.
The tinny sound faded away once he moved further into the mall, replaced by the mulled roar of childish laughter and idle chatter. His eye was caught by the glitter of artificial snow on a false windowpane, and he glanced up.
...sweet Jenova, she'd kill me.
The Turk coughed and looked away from the lacy demi-bra that covered the mannequin's plastic assets. His gaze was met by that of a chubby woman seated outside the corner café. From the odd expression on her face, he could only assume that she'd been watching him the whole time.
"Lady, it's way too late to switch to frozen yogurt," he snapped. A scowl made its way back over his own features, and he began to turn away.
Oh, no...
The click of those heels. The smothering scent of that perfume.
Oh, please, no...
"Planning on getting that for your new friend, Reno?" Scarlet snickered, shifting the packages in her arms. "I think she'd fall out of it, if you ask me, but then again..." Painted lips pursed into a speculative moue. "You might like it that way."
Reno groaned inwardly. "Shut up, Scarlet." The Turk just shook his head and started forward; only to pause once more as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Scarlet...you're a girl, right?"
The blonde woman eyed him suspiciously for a moment, and peered down at herself. "Is this some sort of trick question?" she muttered.
"No, I don't mean..." He sighed. Oh, this was going to come back to haunt him, he knew. "Ineedyourhelp," he mumbled.
The weapons developer stared at him, and promptly dissolved into a fit of laughter.
"Kyahaha! Reno, if you're so far gone that you don't even know what a woman is anymore, I don't think I can help you!" She blinked. "Besides, I don't do that for just anyone, anyway."
"Oh, for..." He lifted a hand to his temple. "Scarlet, I need...a female opinion, or something."
"Again, if you're so far gone that you have to ask if I am one..." The corner of her mouth quirked lightly. "You might be better off asking yourself."
"This is why the only thing I would ever poke you with would be a cattle prod," he growled.
"Cattle prod?" Scarlet blinked again, expression returning to that thoughtful moue. "You know, that's not a bad idea...say, would you mind letting me borrow that stick of yours so I can get a look at the connections? I could figure it out easily enough, but it'd save a good deal of time if I didn't have to - "
"Scarlet!" The red-haired Turk gritted his teeth. "You gonna help me or not?"
The woman jumped, jolted out of her tangent, and shook her head. "I really don't have time to, Reno. I'm still trying to figure out what to get the man who's got everything."
"You look like you have it covered." Reno rolled his eyes. "Unless you're giving him yourself. Just...tell me what chicks like to get for Christmas, would you?"
"...you've got a girlfriend? I can't decide whether that's cute, or whether I should feel sorry for her." She smirked. "Look, just get her something expensive and pretty. Jewelry or something. I've really got to go." Her heels clicked on the floor as she pushed past the man.
"...yea. Thanks," he muttered. Do I look like I can afford diamonds? Turks don't exactly pull in a company head's salary, and unlike some people, we can't just go crawl into his bed when we need a little extra.
His thoughts were interrupted once again by the cacophony of Christmas carols; this time from the carillon that sat beside the gilded carousel in the center of the plaza. Kiddie rides. Heh. What a waste of an afternoon. Bitterly, he shook his head and turned to leave the mall.
He saw her only briefly from the corner of his eye; clinging to the pole that sprung from a golden horse's back as the machine started up with a lurch and a metallic creak. The side of his mouth curled upward wryly, and he stepped out.
Kiddie rides, indeed...
* * *
Deck the halls with -
"...what in the crap is that?" Elena blinked upon spotting the waxy bit of foliage plastered to the portrait in the foyer. It wasn't until she heard her voice reflected by the walls that she realized she'd spoken aloud, and she blushed fiercely. "I, uh, I mean..."
The stammered explanation trailed off helplessly as her words fell on the deaf ears of the garish likeness. Duh, Elena. It had darkened considerably by the time she arrived at the Shin-Ra building; enough so that the streetlights outside had begun to buzz with the effort of warming up to a healthy Mako glow. There wouldn't be anyone within, no; or if there was, it was just as likely to be the cleaning staff.
Or Hojo.
The girl shuddered as the thought of the slimy scientist invaded her mind. Kids in the slums frightened each other with stories about monsters. Kids in Shin-Ra families frightened each other with stories about Hojo and his lab. Elena may have been too old to take part in the telling herself, but she wasn't old enough yet not to believe everything she overheard.
She wondered if she ever would be.
Hojo walks the halls at night, after everyone's gone home. His experiments make him glow in the dark, so he doesn't need the light to see. Sometimes, he takes his creatures out for walks just like other people do their dogs, and they look for things to take back to the lab.
Elena swallowed. Suddenly, the idea of retrieving her coat didn't sound as good as it had on the way over. It wasn't that long a walk home, after all. She could pick it up in the morning, when Hojo wasn't roaming the corridors looking for -
People to take back to the lab...
She could feel the lump welling up in her throat as she turned for the door. What would the others think, if they knew she was afraid of the dark? That was one good thing about Rude's self-imposed silence - he might be laughing at her later, but all she'd ever see or hear of it would be a blink and a heavy sigh. Reno, of course, wouldn't bother with any such restraint - and he'd never let it go, either. And Tseng...
Tseng would be so disappointed.
Her fingers fumbled on the knob, and the brass slipped from her grasp. Geez, Elena, get over it. I bet any one of them has been through stuff a thousand times worse than you've ever dreamed of, and you can't even do a little thing like go upstairs after hours and get your coat? Shame on you. You're no Turk.
"I - I am too a Turk!" she announced to the portrait; it being the only one around to hear. A hand balled into a fist, and she spun around, ready to storm into the building.
And take it by force, if necessary.
Her hip hit the edge of the table with a thud. The hollow bang of its introduction to the wall, however, was nothing compared to the resounding shatter of glass that followed as the transparent vase atop it teetered, wobbled, and slid to the floor.
"Oh...oh...um...crap."
Elena sighed and surveyed the mess. Well, if Hojo was on the loose, he probably wasn't going to help her clean it up once he came to investigate the crash. Then again, she probably wouldn't get yelled at once she was part of a scientifically-balanced breakfast, either; but she wasn't sure it was worth the trade.
Maybe if I just kind of nudge it under the rug...like so...no one would notice. Yes, no one will notice this huge lump of crunchy vase under the rug! Well, maybe the janitor will sweep it up and they'll think someone else did it! Especially if I go...right... now!
Cautiously, she began to back away. So far, so good. No alarms, no armed guards, no slavering beasts...but damn, she knew what a thief must feel like, now.
Her shoulders impacted something soft yet solid. Her eyes widened. And she screamed - though it came out as little more than a strangled squeak; barely audible even in the silence of the foyer.
"What the hell?"
"Tseng!" She gasped, whirling to face the dark-haired Turk. "Wh-what are you doing here?" And how much did you see?
"I was finalizing a few details on a contract," he responded with a shrug. "Though I could ask much the same of you," the man added, and lofted a brow. "Something I should know about here?"
"N-no." She could feel the blush taking control of her complexion again, and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I left my coat in the lounge this afternoon. I thought I heard something when I came in to get it, and..." Her turn to shrug.
"Aha." She could feel Tseng's smirk, too. Maybe Hojo would have been better.
"I'll just go get it and come right back down," she mumbled.
"Do you want me to go with you? You never know what's lurking in dark corners," he teased, grinning lightly.
Elena groaned. He couldn't know...could he? "I'll be okay." Careful. She'd be careful not to break anything else. Maybe if she was lucky, she'd sink into the floor, and Tseng would just forget the blonde Turk girl even existed.
I don't want Tseng to forget I exist...
He was already moving for the door, though.
"Oh, Elena."
Her head came up as he called her name, and she glanced over her shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"You've got Christmas off. Looks like we're partying on Shin-Ra gil, this year. Let Reno and Rude know if you see them, will you? I was going to do it myself, but I think they've left for the bar already."
"Yeah. Sure, Tseng. No problem." She forced a smile.
"And by the way..." He re-crossed the few steps that separated them, and seized her shoulders gently.
"Huh?" Elena had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. What did I do now?
A few strands of that dark hair shifted forward as the man leaned over, and the breath stilled in her throat. Is he going to - ?
She shivered as his cheek slid past her own, and then his lips were against her ear.
"There's something in your hair," he whispered. "And as charming as it looks now, I'm sure it'd be even better at the party." Straightening, he winked. "Might even pull some of the eyes off Scarlet and onto you."
"Wh-what?" Confused, she reached up to bat at the damp tresses. Her fingers met something pliant and smooth, and she yanked it free of the mat it had adhered to.
Mistletoe. The piece that had been so carelessly tacked to the portrait, no doubt. Sure enough, a quick glance at the now-lopsided artwork revealed that the ornamentation was now in her hands. Her eyes cast back to Tseng, but the Turk had stepped out in the moments it had taken her to decipher his riddle.
"Some joke, huh," she muttered bitterly. "Guess this is the only way me or you either one is getting kissed this year."
The portrait, as always, said nothing. With a sigh, Elena tucked the mistletoe into her palm and headed for the lift.