The Bird Who Stole Christmas

Joe was in a bad mood. Worse than his usual bad mood. This morning, he'd strained some muscles he didn't even know he had, in training. This afternoon, his car had decided to start making horrifying knocking sounds.

But this evening had been the worst.

This evening he had opened his locker to find a red envelope addressed to him. He would have known what was inside, even if he hadn't heard the groans from Ken and Ryu, who had already opened their identical envelopes.

It was an invitation to Christmas dinner at Jun's.

Joe didn't have anything against Christmas per se. But all of those smug Santas, annoying commercials, overly jolly people, surrounded by that sappy music… it was enough to make him tear his hair out.

Okay, maybe he did hate Christmas.

The whole Christmas season.

When Ken asked him why, he didn't quite know the reason.

It could be his guns weren't blazing quite right.

It could be, perhaps, that his helmet was too tight.

But he thought that the most likely reason of all

May have been that his wings were two sizes too small.

Literally.

Only two days ago Galactor's latest mecca had sprayed him with some kind of foul-smelling substance. If it hadn't been for his Birdstyle he would have ended up with horrible chemical burns. Instead, he discovered that his wings had shrunk. Now they barely reached his waist. Sure, Nambu was trying to fix it, but with the holiday coming up he knew it wouldn't exactly be a 'round the clock' priority.

And now, this. Dinner at Jun's.

Joe let out a low groan.

"So what are we going to do this year?" Ken asked him.

"I'm not sure I can take another one of Jun's turkeys!" moaned Ryu.

It was saying something when Ryu wanted to turn down food.

"Can we convince her to cater it like we did last year?" Joe asked.

"Nope, I already tried!" answered Jinpei as he entered the room. "She feels so guilty that she didn't cook last year that she wants to make it extra special this year."

Joe shuddered. The thought of being forced to ingest Jun's cooking was enough to give him nightmares. Heck, if they could just get her into a Galactor kitchen this war would be over.

But he knew that this year he'd have to take the bullet.

He was going to have to eat Jun's turkey.

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"Thanks for coming with me to the supermarket, Hakase." Jun said. "I appreciate the help. I don't have that much time to get everything I'll need for tomorrow night."

"No problem, Jun." answered Nambu. "I had to come to the grocery store anyway to get some ingredients for my grandmother. She's making her fruitcake again this year."

Jun made a horrible, choking sound. When the Doctor turned to look at her she quickly made it seem as if she had something in her throat.

"So, uh… how is Granny Nambu?" she asked.

"Just as spry as ever." replied the Doctor. "And she's really looking forward to seeing all of you this year. She was so grateful for your dinner invitation, Jun. She likes to be remembered."

"No problem, Hakase." June muttered, blushing. She had been guilted into the invitation by Janet, Dr. Nambu's secretary. Last year the KNT had managed to get away for Christmas, just the five of them. Apparently Granny had been quite hurt that she wasn't spending the holiday with her great-grandchildren. So this year the invitation had been sent.

It wasn't that Granny Nambu was a bad person. Quite the opposite, in fact. She was a very sweet, ninety-year-old lady. But she had some strange attitudes toward her grandson's adopted children, including the idea that they were about ten years younger than they actually were.

And then there was her fruitcake.

Every year she made fruitcake for all of the KNT. Somehow they ended up at the Snack J, where they had been piling up in the pantry for years. Jun was almost afraid to open the door anymore for fear it would all come spilling out. They had tried to eat the fruitcake once, but even Ken, the master of politeness and duty, could only stomach two mouthfuls in front of Granny before declaring that he was just so full he couldn't eat another bite.

Somehow, that fruitcake made the worst poisons seem like delicacies.

And this year Granny was going to bring more.

Desperately trying to change the subject, Jun looked at her own grocery list.

"Could you pick up the turkey for me, Hakase?" she asked. "I reserved it at the butcher's counter under your name."

"Sure, Jun." Nambu replied. "I'll get it and meet you at the checkout stand."

"Thanks." Jun said, before rushing off to get the rest of her ingredients.

She knew that she wasn't the best cook. She also knew that the guys snickered about her cooking when they thought she couldn't hear. And sometimes, even when they knew she could hear. But this year she was going to show them.

She had been taking cooking lessons.

The thought had occurred to her in early October when she had seen an ad for a new cooking school. On impulse she had called the number provided, and had spent half an hour talking with Jacques.

Jacques had been trained at the Cordon Bleu school in France, and he declared that no one was too great a challenge for him. He could teach her to cook.

She had originally thought that he might eat his words when he reviewed her first attempt at making a simple rice dish. The soggy, gluey mess had been badly burned and the bottom was sticking to the pot, while the top was tough and undercooked. Jun had had a sinking feeling in her stomach, while Jacques had just stood there with an inscrutable look on his face.

"Ah, Joon…" he had said (she loved the French way he said her name), "I can see that we will have to spend extra time together, yes?"

Jun was so relieved that he hadn't expelled her from his school that she had nodded happily.

And the extra time had been worth it. Just last week she had made a vegetable roulade that Jacques had declared 'magnifique'.

She was ready.

Ready to make a Christmas dinner that would knock everyone's wings off.

But she was still nervous. So she had invited Jacques to join them for dinner too. He had promised to keep her lessons a secret until after the meal was over. And at least he would be there to help her in the kitchen in case she had any emergencies.

Strange, how facing dozens of Galactor troops in hand-to-hand combat didn't frighten her, but a fifteen-pound turkey was enough to start her knees knocking.

But this year, she would do it. She would cook that bird until it was the best one any of them had ever tasted.

Either that, or it would be death by fruitcake.

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The attendant behind the butcher's counter watched the mustached man approach. He looked just like the photo that the attendant had committed to memory, when he had first taken this miserable excuse for a job.

But to make certain, the attendant asked his name.

"Nambu." came the reply. "You have a turkey reserved for me?"

"Yes." the attendant said, smiling, "I know just the one."

Carefully he reached into the freezer and picked out the turkey that had been especially selected for the good Doctor.

As Nambu walked away with his purchase, he didn't notice the attendant's green pants peeking out from under his white butcher's coat.