Notes: A belated holiday chapter, featuring the last welfare.

Chapter Summary: Santa hosts a holiday three-legged race, where each team must consist of partners who share a legal name. But behind the scenes, an evil plot advances...

FGO: Tales from the Second Archive
An FGO Fanfic by
Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)
Chapter 9: Running with Yourself

Mash did not sleep. But since everyone else did, and Master wanted Mash to at least attempt to rest, she was now banned from camping out in the conference room and burying herself in paperwork. She was absolutely allowed to bury herself in paperwork within her own apartment, however, since that at least gave the impression that she might be sleeping.

She wasn't, of course. Sleep was for the weak. And the dead. Mash desired to be neither any time soon. And so she worked. Well, paperwork-ed, more precisely. But in a ridiculously comfy armchair, and so it was not against Master's rules. Which, now that she thought about them, were less random and more curiously skewed at times. Clearly, he did not want Mash to overwork herself, and yet, he gave her plenty to keep busy with, so that she did not go insane from not having enough to do.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Mash scowled. She was comfortable, knee-deep in paperwork, and had no desire to be disturbed. Also, she really didn't want to get up, and Master had not had the foresight to give her an automatic door opener.

"What?!" Mash shouted irritably.

There was a long pause, and then the ominous clicks of someone with a key unlocking the door. Mash had not given out a spare key, so either it was Shirou, who had keys to every apartment, or-

The door swung open, and Mash stared at her visitor with a blank expression. "What?"

"How rude. If this is how you're going to be, maybe I should break up with you," Gorgon said as she walked in and shut the door behind her.

Mash continued to stare. The last time they had seen each other, Gorgon had been much taller. Giant, really. Now, she was much shorter, but still quite tall by Servant standards. Obviously, though, she could now fit comfortably into an apartment, for example.

"No, I meant... why are you here?" Mash asked.

"I thought it was obvious. I am visiting my girlfriend. That is a thing that I do now. Since I have a girlfriend. According to you. Who is my girlfriend. Or so I have been informed." Gorgon came closer, and leaned into Mash's personal space, until they were nearly nose to nose. "Perhaps you wish to discuss that?"

Mash frowned. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first. I really needed to use your reputation to protect myself. But since you are here now, we can... wait. How did you get the key?"

Gorgon smiled. "Master was kind enough to provide it to me. I would have asked Shirou, but I knew that would be awkward."

"And you're here, without invitation, because you want to avoid awkwardness?"

"Close. I'm here because I absolutely thrive on, and delight in, awkwardness." Gorgon leaned a little closer. "So I'm here to take you on our first official date, my honey."

Amazingly, Mash relaxed, if only slightly. "You should have called. I have plans today."

"I know," Gorgon replied, producing a flier advertising the three-legged race. "I thought we could attend together. That way everyone will see us. On our date that you can't get out of."

Mash felt there was a vital point to clarify. "Gorgon. You do understand that we're not actually dating?"

"What I understand is that liars should be extremely careful what they lie about, how they lie, and who they lie about. Someone might take them seriously."

"But you don't, right?"

"I take my reputation very seriously, Mash. You are free to use it. With permission. Which I will grant. After our date, and not a second before."

"Okay, that's reasonable. But I don't want to interfere with your job-"

Gorgon smirked. "Nice try. I already cleared this with Sitonai. She was quite amused."

"I bet she was."

Fortunately, Mash was feeling well enough to where she could walk to the three-legged race. She didn't want to give Gorgon any excuse to carry her. But even so, it was looking like she'd have little choice but to sit in Gorgon's lap, judging by numerous hints that had been dropped on the way.

As Mash understood it, the race was being sponsored by Heavenly Hosting, but the actual event had been organized by someone else. At least, that was what the paperwork had all implied. But from the second Mash and Gorgon reached the parking lot and saw all of the preparations, they both felt certain that was inaccurate.

Heavenly Hosting's logo was everywhere, to the point where if anyone else had been organizing, they either would have been blind or offended. The only Servant in sight was Jean d'Arc Alter Santa Lily, who was humming happily as she carefully arranged a large stack of colorful clothing in what looked to be the medical tent. And she was not offended by the display, if the bright red T-shirt she was wearing with "Heavenly Hosting's Official Santa" on the front and back was any indicator.

"Hey, Santa," Mash greeted. "Need any help setting up?"

"Hi, Mash!" Santa said cheerfully. "No, I'm fine. Heavenly Hosting took care of almost everything!"

"About that," Mash murmured, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "Have you actually met, or spoken to any of them in person?"

"No. They gave me a smartphone so I can text any concerns to them, and they always respond immediately."

That only made Mash more suspicious. "And you didn't have to do anything in return for the phone?"

Santa shrugged. "All they asked was that I be in charge of the three-legged race. And I was planning to do that anyway, since Jeanne said she was too busy to run with me. I want to make sure everyone has a good time."

"May we see the phone?" Gorgon asked.

Santa passed the phone over without hesitation. It looked normal. Mash could find nothing wrong with it, anyway. Gorgon said nothing after her own inspection, and handed the phone back. If she had any observations, she was keeping them to herself, at least in front of Santa.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Mash asked again. "Surely someone from Heavenly Hosting is going to show up eventually to check on you?"

Santa shook her head. "They didn't mention anything about that. And like I said, they took care of almost everything. They even hired an assistant for me!"

"What assist-" Mash began to say, but then she felt an odd numbness in her shoulder.

"She means me," said the female Servant who suddenly appeared at Santa's side, holding a large box that apparently contained freshly-baked cookies, if the label could be trusted.

Mash didn't trust it. In part because she smelled no cookies, but mostly because the assistant's presence explained the shoulder numbness perfectly. "Did you just give me a shot?" Mash demanded.

The assistant gazed at her unconcernedly. "Of course not. Shots require consent. Or so I have been repeatedly told."

"You did!" Mash cried. "You gave me a shot!"

Santa frowned. "What are you accusing Flo of? She's a great assistant! Did you even see her give you a shot?"

Mash paused. "Well, no," she admitted. "But-"

"So you have no proof that she did anything wrong!"

Mash hesitated. "You seem... oddly practiced in defending her actions, Santa."

"Actions that you have no proof of," Flo chimed in.

Gorgon carefully peeled a festive red and green band-aid off of Mash's shoulder. "Oh, I think we have some-" She trailed off abruptly, then glared as her own shoulder became numb. "You dare-"

"I have no idea what you mean," Flo interrupted, calmly handing two fresh band-aids to Gorgon that were reluctantly snatched up. "But I am not required to continue listening to your baseless accusations. I have cookies to distribute."

"Do you really?" Mash asked doubtfully.

"That's what the box says," Flo replied. Which was absolutely true. Sort of.

"Hello, everyone!" Santa shouted, waving to the gathered Servants. "Welcome to our first annual holiday three-legged race! Thank you for coming out! Please, if you haven't already, be sure to enjoy a free freshly-baked cookie! They're being passed out at the medical tent!"

There were indeed Servants in the vicinity of the medical tent eating cookies. Nearly all of them were chewing slowly and eyeing their shoulders with an odd sort of expression.

"Speaking of the medical tent, if you have any health concerns, please see my good friend Flo, who is making doubly certain that all of our medical needs are met today. Thanks, Flo!"

Flo nodded, just before she abruptly vanished and reappeared, handing a very startled Sieg a cookie.

"As a friendly reminder, the only requirement to participate in the race is that each two-Servant team must share a legal name. So, let's introduce our runners! In Lane 1, we have Team Uruk, consisting of Kid Gil and Caster Gilgamesh!"

Caster Gilgamesh waved half-heartedly to the crowd, while Kid Gil was eagerly stretching his legs.

"In Lane 2, we have Team Ishtar, consisting of Archer Ishter and Rider Ishtar!"

Archer Ishtar was looking rather sour about something, but Rider Ishtar was stretching.

"In Lane 3, we have Team Scathach, consisting of Lancer Scathach and Caster Scathach-Skadi!"

In a welcome change, Scathach was stretching her legs while Scathach-Skadi rubbed her shoulders. They seemed to be the only team where both partners looked as if they wanted to win.

"In Lane 4, we have a late addition, Team Gorgon, consisting of Medusa and Gorgon!"

Medusa looked extremely uncomfortable, but Gorgon was keeping a firm hand on her shoulder, clearly to prevent Medusa from running away.

"And in Lane 5, another late addition, Team Pendragon, consisting of Saber Altaria Alter and Lancer Altaria Alter!"

Archer Ishtar finally exploded. "They're cheating!" she screamed. "If we can't use transports, there's no way they get to use a horse!"

Santa checked a note she was holding. "I have a note here that says the horse is also named Altaria Pendragon, so technically-"

"So technically that makes three Altarias, not two! They have to be a two-Servant team!"

"But the horse isn't considered a separate Servant, so as long as it has the same name, it's allowed."

Archer Ishtar growled and glared at the Altarias (all three of them), who were ignoring her. Well, Altaria the horse was stomping the ground, and definitely looked eager to race.

"Anyway, all runners, please be sure you are secured to your partner by an official race sash," Santa continued. "If you cross the finish line without one, it will not count as an official finish. So, on your marks... get set... GO!"

Kid Gil and Scathach looked like they would secure an impressive lead for their teams, but before they could, four of the lanes vanished in an explosion of dark energy.

"Unacceptable," Altaria Alter (Saber) said. "We won the race. We demand our prize."

"You used Excalibur Morgan to take everyone else out of the race, then walked to the finish line! You didn't even run!" Santa complained.

"There was no need to. No one else was moving by then."

"You ignored the entire spirit of the race!"

"That was not against the rules as we understood them."

"Santa, I'm sorry, but she has a point," Mash cut in. "I've been over the rules three times already. You banned unauthorized transports, but not Noble Phantasms. Beyond that, since nobody else got past the starting line, not only does Team Pendragon take first prize, they take all the prizes, except the ones for participation, which all the runners get. Other than running now being added to the growing list of things that Excalibur Morgan is banned from being used for, there's not much we can do."

Santa pouted at the Altarias. "Well, if Mash says so, I guess I have no choice. But I want you to know that I don't think you deserve any of the prizes, and I am very disappointed in you three!"

Altaria did not seem terribly bothered by that statement. "Understood. Now, the prizes?"

Santa glared at her. "First prize is a hug from me for the winning team."

Altaria blinked. "Second prize?"

"The same, but for not as long."

"Wha-"

"All the prizes are hugs from me, since the point was to enjoy the bonding time and the spirit of friendly competition!" Santa snapped.

"Ah." Altaria glanced at her partner (and her partner's horse), then turned back to Santa. "But we still get the hugs?"

Santa crossed her arms over her chest and turned away. "I guess so."

"Acceptable. And in that case, perhaps you would care to know why we sabotaged the race."

"You mean it's not because you were being greedy?"

"Not entirely that, at least. We detected a considerable drain to our mana, the second we put on the official race sashes. We assumed this would be true of the other sashes as well. As such, we felt it best to destroy them immediately, before expended mana from the race could be collected. Excalibur Morgan was the most efficient way to do that without wasting time by alerting everyone."

"Is it not possible that the sashes were designed to drain mana, to force the runners to rely on raw physical talent?" Mash suggested.

"Yeah!" Santa chimed in heatedly.

"It's possible," Altaria admitted. "But was that the intent?"

Santa paused. "Um, well, it wasn't my intent. I didn't know about the mana drain."

"Let me guess, Heavenly Hosting provided the sashes," Mash assumed.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I think we really need to find out who they are."

"What do you mean, you know who they are, but you won't tell me?!" Mash demanded.

"Exactly what I said," Mark II replied. "Commander decided we would not interfere at this point. That includes exposing their identities to you."

"They could represent a very real danger to-!"

"Oh, they do. But we won't move until they actually do something dangerous. Technically, everything they've done so far falls into the category of pranking. Even the mana drain, since it was stopped before much could be collected. You don't need to worry, we are monitoring them closely."

"How closely?"

"Gorgon only entered the race so we could analyze their mana-draining technique firsthand. And if Altaria hadn't sabotaged the race, we would have. Plus, we have a double agent within their operation. The situation is under control, Mash."

To make up for the race fiasco, Santa hosted a holiday party that evening. At least, she said she was hosting it, but once again, she produced a large amount of free clothing with no visible assistance, and everyone was required to put on a thick holiday sweater at the door.

The Hassans had been made to wear reindeer antlers in addition to their sweaters, and were serving food. Hassan of the Serenity was wearing a triple layer of sweaters, obviously to keep her from accidentally touching anyone. She could barely move, was sweating heavily, and was constantly being passed egg nog to drink by her fellow Hassans in a failed attempt to keep her cool.

Everyone who had gone to the race also came to the party, perhaps feeling they were owed for what had happened at the non-race. It couldn't have gone better if someone had actually planned it that way. They hadn't, not exactly: the actions of Alters could rarely be planned for accurately. Though it was true that the area Santa picked out for the party had been pre-decorated.

Mash attended mostly because even after everything, Santa did not seem as upset with Heavenly Hosting as she should have been. Actually, she wasn't upset at all. More to the point, Santa gave every impression of still having them on her "Nice" list, which made no sense at all. Except that they were bribing her with free resources. So Mash felt that she might be the sole person that was taking the threat of Heavenly Hosting seriously. Even the Altaria Alters, confident in their own power, considered the shadowy organization to be minor enemies, and encouraged Mash to relax.

Which, of course, was the one thing Mash never did, so it was a waste to even suggest it.

Mash was absently nibbling a cookie and staying far away from Flo, who was making a beeline for anyone she hadn't gotten to at the race, when Mash bumped into Shirou. He looked terrible, and Mash said so.

Shirou frowned at her. "Where's your girlfriend?" he muttered.

Mash blinked. "Somewhere. We're not attached at the hip."

"Aren't you supposed to be?"

"No." Mash peered at him closely. "Shirou, are you angry that I'm dating someone?"

"What would make you think that?"

"It's either that, or that egg nog you're sipping has gone sour. In which case, shouldn't you stop sipping it?"

"The egg nog is fine, Santa checks it four times every hour," Shirou sighed.

"So you are angry, then?"

"What do you want me to say, Mash?"

Mash paused. "Nothing. But I'm not doing this because I like seeing you upset, you know."

"I'm pretty sure Gorgon is, though."

"Well... probably. Shirou, we were friends before this started, weren't we?"

"Yes," he admitted slowly.

"I wish we could be again. I miss you. The overly friendly you, anyway. But if me dating means we can't have that, then..."

"I could... try to adjust," Shirou said reluctantly. "To you and... her."

"Thank you." Mash pressed a small gift box into his free hand. "Happy Holidays. Don't open it until I leave." With that, she ran away, leaving Shirou staring after her.

After a moment, he opened the box. "Mistletoe? But why would she tell me to open it after-?"

"GET HIM!"

Shirou shrieked in fear as Chloe and Sitonai dogpiled him and covered his face with kisses. None of them noticed when Flo breezed by them, but all of them noticed when their shoulders became numb a moment later.

Nobody questioned Flo living among the Extras. Useful as she was, she was not exactly friendly. And perhaps if anyone had ever seen her shoot anything, they would have said she'd make for a decent Archer. But they never had.

There was a single knock on Flo's door shortly after midnight. She waited exactly one minute, then opened the door. There was no one there, but she did find a silver briefcase on her doorstep. She glanced to the left and right, snatched up the briefcase and stashed it in her apartment, then slammed the door.

Inside the briefcase, she found enough funding to keep her stocks of sanitation and medical supplies overflowing for the better part of a year. Also several delicious cookie recipes.

Flo retrieved a second suitcase, this one bright red, from her closet. It was empty. In this suitcase, she placed the vaccination records of a specific animal, which included any recent changes in height, weight, and attitude. When that was done, she placed the suitcase outside of her door, and went to bed.

Next Chapter: Best Boss Bond Level

The seconds get into a heated debate over who actually has the strongest bond with their Boss, so Mash offers them a way to prove it with hard numbers.

Endnotes:

Normally I don't make a deliberate effort to avoid politics, it just happens naturally. And I appreciate those who do the same. That said: a Servant who fires vaccines at friends and foes alike, released during the time of year when that's arguably most needed? Well played, FGO. I see you. Respect.

Servant Spotlight! Holiday Edition

Name: Nightingale (Santa)
Nicknames: Flo, Sanitary Santa, Nurse Santa
Class: S.A.N.I.T.A. (official medic of the apartment complex, Informant for the Royal Uruk Security Force)

Equipment:
Cookie Box: She always has cookies, as a distraction. The meaning of that is unclear.
First Aid Kit: She always has one on hand. The meaning of that is obvious.
Collapsible Pre-Soaked Mop: The larger the Servant, the more effective a weapon it becomes against them, for all those tough to reach spots.

Class Skills:
Season's Cleanings: A++
In her spare time, she scrubs any nearby surfaces obsessively. Has been known to attack people mid-sentence with sanitary wipes. Though in her defense, they probably deserved it.

Ho Ho Ho-ppacratic Oath: A++
She is determined to treat all Servants equally. Regardless of health insurance status. Or consent.

Personal Skills:
Independent Action: Unranked
She moves with unparalleled speed, which always results in shoulder numbness for others. Unrelated, flu cases are down among Servants this season.

Noble Phantasm:
Sanitation is Next to Santa-liness: EX
If she is ever seen wearing a mask and gloves, it is a clear sign that she is about to begin a deep cleaning session sure to last several hours, if not days. Avoid common areas if you prefer non-pine scented air.

Preferences:
Favorite Servant: Those up to date on their shots.
Least Favorite Servant: Those who avoid medical treatment.
Partner in Crime: Any partnership that allows her to treat the maximum amount of Servants.
Hobbies: Nursing, cleaning, beating disease to a bloody pulp.
Personal Quote: Have a cookie. I only need a moment to... what? No, I said nothing. Eat up.