Nero approached every new surface thing as though there was going to be a test on it, and he was determined not to fail. On Max's recommendations, he found a number of holiday movies to watch, which he did with a notepad on his knee, his pen poised ready in his other hand.
Mostly recovered from his injuries, he was still on light duty, but didn't dare to watch movies at the office. Late at night, the Turks' lounge area was unoccupied, so he commandeered the DVD player and the sofa, and here he spent several nights exploring the mysteries of the Yule season.
Family celebrations seemed to be the central theme. Truly astonishing amounts of food were featured, and occasionally, copious amounts of alcohol as well. A huge roast chocobo took pride of place in most of the dinner scenes. After numerous lingering shots of tables groaning with meats, cheeses, breads, fruits, and something called "figgy pudding," Nero paused the current movie and rummaged in the Turks' small refrigerator for a snack.
He cobbled together a sandwich made from a cinnamon-raisin bagel, some ranch dip, and a slice of salami. It wasn't Veld-quality food, but it made his stomach stop growling, and the leftover dip went well with a package of pretzel rods.
Around the middle of the third night, Reno wandered in, stretching and yawning.
"Nero, man, what time did you get in?"
"Six o'clock," said Nero, scribbling notes.
"What? It's only about five-thirty now."
"I meant last night."
"You haven't been to bed?" Reno peered at the movie on the screen. "What's all this?"
"Um, research." Nero tapped on the stack of DVD cases on the side table. "For Yule."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess you didn't do Yule where you grew up, huh?"
Nero shook his head. "I'm just trying to catch up. Dad and Veld are doing all these things for the holiday." He ducked his head, his hair falling forward to hide his face. "I don't want to seem stupid."
"You're not." Reno flipped through the stack of DVDs. "Huh. Haven't seen this one for years. Oh, hey, that's an old one. And this one's not that great, you could skip this one."
"I don't want to miss anything important," said Nero, eyes on the screen again.
"Look, these are all pretty similar," said Reno. "How many have you watched so far?"
"This is the ninth one."
"Minerva's tits, man, they must've covered everything that matters." Reno sat cross-legged on the other end of the couch and reached for the pretzels. "C'mon, turn that off, and I'll quiz you. I got some time before my shift starts. Let's see what you've learned."
Somewhat reluctantly, Nero complied; Reno was his mentor, after all, and it went against the grain to protest even though it wasn't strictly an official order.
"Okay, first question," said Reno, crunching pretzels. "What does Yule mean?"
"Wheel," said Nero promptly.
"Correct. Next question: When's it happen?"
"Around December 21st. It depends on the influence of other planets, and Gaia's orbital and rotational-"
"Yeah, yeah, okay, that's right." Reno waved a hand. "You don't gotta do a dissertation on it, kid, nobody's scoring you."
Nero flushed. "Right. Sorry." He sat up a little straighter. "What's the next question?"
"Lemme think." Scooping up a blob of dip onto two pretzel rods at once, Reno considered. "What's the significance of the sun to Yule?"
Remembering his conversation with Vincent about this very thing, Nero hesitated. "Do you want the scientific explanation, or the, um….traditional one?"
Reno raised on eyebrow. "Let's have 'em both," he said, and listened, chewing pretzels while Nero spoke.
"Kid, you got this," he said, when Nero had finished. "You don't need to spend every night watching these goofy films."
Nero shrugged, his face growing warm again. "I like the songs."
"Well, that's cool. You can buy all that stuff and listen to it whenever you want." Reno rose, brushing pretzel crumbs off of his uniform. "You're off today, aintcha? Why don't ya go Yule shopping with your cutie? You can pick up some tunes, and buy Max something red 'n racy for Yule." He winked, and sauntered off toward the door.
Nero thought it over while he packed up the movies and cleaned away the remnants of his snacks. He had no idea if Max would like something 'red and racy' - she'd never mentioned being interested in any kind of racing - but the thought of time spent with Max made him smile. He'd catch a few hours sleep, and then give her a call.
"Oh look!" said Max, pointing to a shop window. "They've got Hello Kitty hats!"
"Oh yeah, that's the cat on your underwear," said Nero, eliciting a wide-eyed look from a passing older woman.
"Yep." Max winked at the old woman, who scurried away, blushing.
"Do you want to go in there?" asked Nero, with a nod at the little shop. Even from outside, he could see it was crowded with shoppers, jostling one another as they examined the merchandise and snatched things up with eager fingers.
"Not right now," said Max, tugging on his hand to lead him past the shop. "I need to find something for mom, and that place is too expensive on a WRO stipend."
Max already carried a large shopping bag, striped in red, white and gold; inside were several smaller bags, equally bright, stuffed with gifts for her friends. Bargaining was another surface quirk that Nero needed to learn. Used to requisitioning necessities, and only when they were truly needed, he'd accompanied Max to several tiny shops tucked away on side streets.
Consignment stores and thrift shops were a new thing to him, as well, and he'd marveled at Max's ability to bargain over prices with the holiday-harried shopkeepers. She'd stayed polite, but firm, willing to leave without a coveted item if the price wasn't right. In the end, she'd walked away with several pieces of beautiful vintage jewelry, an antique silver picture frame, and a long scarf of silky, midnight-blue velvet.
"I might give mom the scarf," she mused as they walked along, dodging other shoppers.
Nero made a mental note of that. Yule preparations were proving to be an unexpected source of new concepts. Gift-giving occasions, for one thing, were numerous. He had no idea how people with large numbers of friends and family managed.
"Oh look!"
Nero jumped and whipped around, some distant part of him tensing for attack. There was no immediately obvious danger, just an unusually large mob of children with their noses pressed to a shop window. Max had gone over to join them. Although the children entirely blocked the sidewalk and the first twelve inches of the window, Nero was more than tall enough to see over their heads.
Inside the window was a display so elaborate and bright it felt like looking into shadow- except everything in this alternate dimension was full of light and color. There were a variety of miniaturized vehicles, all gleaming in the light, as well as a tiny train that chugged around the perimeter of the display. Little plush animals and humanoid figurines sat piled on various surfaces. Bicycles, scooters, and what looked like a chocobo mounted on rockers were also on display. Colorful books and boxes labeled as "games" were crowded in wherever there was room.
Leaning back, Nero eyed the animated neon sign. It spelled out "TOYS" in bold letters.
"I used to have one of those as a kid! I thought they stopped making them."
Nero followed the line of Max's pointing finger. It took him a moment to puzzle out what the object was: a sled. Propped on end in the corner of the display, it was painted a bright cherry red. The words "Red Racer XV" were painted down the middle slat.
"That one's a lot bigger than the one I had," Max observed. "Must have had siblings in mind, or maybe nostalgic adults."
"What happened to yours?" Nero asked.
"I maaaay have attached fireworks to the runners," she drawled. "I wanted a rocket powered sled like in this cartoon I used to watch. Except the coyote and I had about the same luck. Went about 200 yards at Mach two before flaming out. Oh I was okay," Max hurried to amend at Nero's horrified look. "The snow bank that I had intended to use as a ramp wasn't as hard packed as I thought. Went right through it instead of up it. At least it put the flames out."
"I take it the sled did not survive."
"Sadly no," Max sighed. "Mom got me a snow tube to replace it. Hard to get hurt on a big inflatable donut."
Nero looked back at the sled as Max led the way to the next shop. Red and racy. Of course!
"Hey, let's go get some coffee!" She pointed at a place across the street with a sign that read "Dark & Delicious: A Coffee & Tea Emporium."
"Wait," Nero said, rewinding a bit, following as Max headed for the coffee shop. "I thought you had somebody else in mind for that scarf?"
"Not really. It was just too pretty to pass up, and the price was fair. It's good to have a few extra things, if you can get 'em. There's always somebody's birthday or another occasion coming."
"What are you getting for your dad?" Max asked as they joined the line for coffee.
"Um. I don't know?" The thought had been nagging at him for several days. "He's not very materialistic. And I don't think he needs clothes or things like that."
"There's always socks," Max said, grinning. "No, babe, I'm kidding. Why don't you ask the Turks where the best gun shop is?"
"Yeah, I could do that." Their eyes met, and inspiration struck them both at once. As one, they said, "Vintage firearms!"
"Vincent loves stuff like that," added Max.
"What about Veld, though?"
"Same," said Max, "...or, no, wait. Cookware." She gave a decisive nod, and stepped up to the counter to order their coffee.
Visiting was another thing that was new to Nero. In Deepground, one didn't socialize. The occasional brief conversation when off duty was acceptable, but not the kind of thing that people on the surface did constantly. The casual nature of conversation in Turk HQ still struck him as odd. Passing in the corridor, meeting in the mess hall, waiting for another person to finish using the copy machine, all seemed occasions for the kind of idle chatter that would've gotten a person major discipline for wasting time in Deepground.
It had taken weeks for Nero to lose the edge of nervousness that came naturally to him whenever someone engaged him in talk about anything other than work. At first, he hadn't had much to contribute. He didn't follow sports, hadn't seen the movies, and he refused to discuss Max.
He'd gotten better, especially now that he'd had time to absorb some cultural knowledge, but he was nowhere near comfortable with it yet. When Max had brought up a visit to her mom's house, he'd had a moment of near-panic.
"On Yule? I think Veld's got a special dinner planned," he said, scrambling for an out that didn't sound like a lame excuse.
"Oh, right, I should've thought of that," Max went on. "It's okay. My aunt Rina's coming. Mom's sister. She'd love you, but you might find her a bit much."
"She would? I would?" Nero shook his head. "I don't understand. We've never met, how could she love me?"
Max laughed. "Not like that. I mean she'd really like you. You're different. So's Rina. She's...well, you've met mom."
"Yes?" Nero liked Minori, Max's mother, but the intensity of her gaze, and her polite but pointed questions, had put him on his guard at their initial meeting. He couldn't imagine trying to make idle conversation with two such women.
"Okay, well, Aunt Rina is the exact opposite," said Max. "Well, not exact. I mean, she's just as smart as mom, but she's so much less reserved. She wears lime green and tells dirty jokes and makes a highball that'll knock you on your ass."
"She sounds like a Turk," Nero observed.
"Yep." Max snickered. "She asked Veld out on a date once. He declined, said he was taken. Vincent was standing right next to him. Rina said to bring him along, two handsome men are better than just one. He begged off, of course. She still refers to Veld as 'the one that got away.'
"So, yeah, she can be a little hard to take if you're the quiet type. But she's kind and really sweet for all that."
"I'll...take your word for it," said Nero, "if you don't mind? I know dad and Veld have plans for Yule."
"It's fine, babe." Max squeezed his hand. "Another time." Weaving their fingers together, she smiled. "How about if we meet for lunch? Just you and me, the day before, or the day after? We can each have family time on Yule, but then...a special day for just us."
"Okay. The day after."
That settled, they finished their coffee, did a little more shopping, and headed home just as snow began to fall. By the time they reached Max's apartment building, a fluffy white blanket covered the streets and sidewalk.
"You coming in?" she asked at the front step.
"I can't, I have late shift at work."
"Oh, right." Max patted his arm in lieu of a kiss goodbye, something that still made him twitchy after a lifetime of rules against such easy intimacy.
He was halfway down the front sidewalk when Max shouted, "Nero! Heads up!"
He turned just as something soft and white hit his shoulder. A blob of snow fell to the ground, quickly followed by another that whizzed past his head to the sound of Max's laughter.
He'd seen this in one of the movies. Grabbing a handful of snow, he smushed it into a ball and fired back at Max, all in one movement. It glanced off of her head, eliciting a squeal.
"Not bad for a newbie!"
"Newbie, huh?" Another five snowballs followed in rapid succession, peppering Max and the doorway with snow. She held up her hands in surrender, grinning widely.
"I give up! But I want a rematch!"
"Maybe another day?" said Nero, brushing snow off of his coat. "I'll be late for work!"
"Okay, babe!" She blew him a kiss. "See ya!"