"What was that?"

Arching an expectant brow, Cloud crossed his arms against his chest as he unsuccessfully fought off a tinge of color on his cheeks. "It's mistletoe."


"You drew …" A pause. "It's … a …"

Cloud scoffed as he haphazardly threw the brown crayon back into the box. "It's Chip."


No doubt about it: If he could just overlook the fact that the poor chipmunk looked like the next furry Godzilla …

Christmas was so overrated.


"You kiss like a gopher."


"Hand me the blueprints."


"There's no time to waste: unless you want Aerith to start throwing burnt reindeer cookies at you."

" … don't change the subject."

"I'm not."

"Then, what was that?"

"The Santa-Claus-way of telling you to stop puffing your cheeks."

"Well, I apologize for preventing you from chomping my lips off."


Tensing, Cloud glared at the other man sans restraint.

"Oh, it's on.

Leon simply shrugged and threw another snowball into his face.

"You're just talk."


"Merry Christmas."


"Merry Christmas."

Further silence.

A chirp.

Then, a sigh.

"That was the most unenthusiastic greeting I have ever heard, you guys."

For once, Yuffie was insanely correct.