~Three Days Before Christmas~
Modern Kansen Dormitory / Earth Embassy
A gentle morning light graced the halls of the dormitory, the pale sun illuminating the polished wooden floors. At the top of the staircase, the silence was broken by the steady, rhythmic thud of Zumwalt's boots as he descended. He reached the entrance hall, his hand reaching for the brass doorknob, when a voice halted him.
"Up early? Where are you heading?"
Behind him stood Drew, clutching a steaming mug of coffee, her face still wearing the soft traces of sleep.
Zumwalt didn't turn around. His silhouette remained framed against the frosted glass of the door as he replies. "My job."
Drew lingered for a moment, the steam from her coffee rising in the cool indoor air. She studied his back before offering a quiet response. "Good luck out there."
"I will."
The door opened and closed with a firm click.
Moments later, the growl of a V8 engine echoed through the dormitory grounds as Zumwalt pulled away in his Ford Mustang GT Cruiser. With his katana at his side and an uncompromising sense of justice in his mind, he set out. In his mind, no criminal would be left unpunished this close to the holidays, they will have to face his Judgement Blade.
Drew watches him leave, she was grateful that he was using his ability to good... to good could be bad. She turns heading back to the kitchen.
ALPD Police Cruiser / Convertible
( IMAGE )
Arizona sat in the back of the convertible, the top down despite the biting morning chill. Pennsylvania gripped the steering wheel with practiced ease, navigating the icy curves of the base roads, while BB-Arizona sat in the passenger seat, watching the base wake up under a fresh blanket of snow.
"It seems you're a bit too pumped for your first day, Junior," Pennsylvania remarked, catching Arizona's reflection in the rearview mirror. Her eyes crinkled with amusement.
"It's not so much a hustle; I just don't like doing recon in the open like this," Arizona replied, his posture stiff. His eyes darted rhythmically from left to right, scanning the dark alleyways and frosted windows they passed. "I prefer to do my recon discretely. This feels like being a parade float."
"It's your first day! Everything is a hustle until you get used to it," BB-Arizona added with a cheery, encouraging smile, her hands tucked neatly in her lap.
Arizona grumbled from the backseat, crossing his arms over his tactical vest. "Don't treat me like a baby. I am an adult."
"Hey—don't complain to me, ask her," Pennsylvania teased, jerking her thumb toward the passenger seat. BB-Arizona's face immediately flushed a deep, vibrant crimson at the accusation.
"It's not my... I just thought maybe acting a bit more... more..." She trailed off, the words becoming far too embarrassing to voice. She ducked her head slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "...Sorry."
"No one is going to believe I'm your son for some reason. You're too young and innocent to act all motherly," Arizona said, his expression softening into a gentle, genuine look that briefly cut through his professional exterior.
"Hah! He definitely got that brutal honesty from you," Pennsylvania cut in, smoothly steering the wheel around a sharp corner.
Arizona shifted his gaze to her, his brow furrowing. "And you're acting exactly like an auntie who's only here to ruin my day."
"That's just who I am, my boy!" she laughed, her voice ringing out in the cold air. "So... are you finally going to talk about that maid girlfriend? It was the hot rumor at the dorm this morning."
Arizona was momentarily taken aback by the sudden, blunt question. His composure faltered for a split second. "We're not like that. We are co-workers. Nothing more."
Pennsylvania glanced at the rearview mirror, raising a knowing brow. "Oh, Junior, you can't hide a secret with a face like that. It's written all over you—just like your mother here."
"Sheffield is a very fine maid," BB-Arizona added with a bright, supportive smile and a nod of acknowledgement.
Arizona turned his head slowly to look at her, a look of betrayal on his face. "Please, not you too."
Pennsylvania let out a hearty laugh at both of their expressions. "You two are like different sides of the same coin—different flips, but still the same coin."
Arizona frowned, though there was no real heat in his frustration. He just let out a long sigh that turned into a cloud of mist. "Why are you both like this?"
The convertible passed a pedestrian lane where a familiar figure stood. Jimmy was holding a bright red traffic sign, dutifully assisting a group of children as they crossed the road. On his very first day on the job, this was his prestigious designation: traffic enforcer.
"They could have found a better job for me than this..." Jimmy muttered to himself.
Jimmy got the worst toss without him knowingly. To all the cards he could play, they gave him the traffic enforcer job. Now looking like a 6ft Navy SEAL in ALPD uniform and glow vest guiding pedestrian, isn't his cue.
In his eternal grumbling, he failed to notice a figure standing right beside him, waiting for the signal to cross. He turned his head and found himself face-to-face with Cruiser Belfast. For a reason he couldn't quite fathom, she was wearing a radiant, bright smile despite the biting morning cold.
"Good morning, Sir Jimmy. I didn't know you were moonlighting as a traffic enforcer on your day off," Cruiser Belfast said, her tone playful.
"Oh, Belfast it was you." Jimmy sigh with a shrug. "Not my choice, I thought I'd be one of those guys making a 'presence patrol' and catching real criminals. But maybe due to a lack of staff, I ended up here..."
He tailed-off, then uttered the last words like a prompt. "or maybe it's just fate."
Cruiser Belfast's smile curved a bit wider. "Fate? I didn't know you were the kind of man who believed in such things."
"No, I'm not." He shifted his gaze downward, noticing the small figure beside her. "So, you're on escort duty?"
Beside Cruiser Belfast stood Unicorn, her small hand gripping Cruiser Belfast's tightly against the cold.
"I am escorting Miss Unicorn to the shops. She is looking for gifts for her friends," Cruiser Belfast explained.
Unicorn looked up at Jimmy and gave a shy determined nod. "Unicorn is shopping for gifts."
"Well then..." Jimmy stepped out into the road and raised his stop sign high, bringing the morning traffic to a dead halt. "You may proceed."
As they crossed the street, both Belfast and Unicorn bowed their heads in gratitude. "Unicorn is grateful, mister," the little girl said softly.
"Are you free for tonight, Sir Jimmy?" Belfast asked, pausing for a second before they reached the other side.
Jimmy respectfully shook his head, though he appreciated the gesture. "I'm grateful for the offer, Miss Belfast, but I have a scheduled patrol for tonight. I'll be busy all through the holiday night. Maybe next time?"
"Next time, then?"
Jimmy nodded firmly. "Yes. Next time."
Unicorn, unable to contain her excitement any longer, dragged Cruiser Belfast toward the shop entrance. Jimmy was left standing in the middle of the road, the snow falling lightly around his sign as he watched them disappear into the store.
But his revere along with falling snow was cut-off by the honking cars.
"God damn it." He grumbled.
~Scene changes~
"That's two hundred parking tickets for the day! Job well done!" Lucas announced, his voice booming with a sense of pride that was far too loud for the quiet, snowy street. In his mind, being the "fastest draw" with a ticket book was the only way to make this tedious duty feel even remotely like a mission.
His partner, Shangri-La, adjusted her glasses, her strictness as a senior officer remaining unshakeable even on his second day of the internship. "Lower your voice. You're making yourself a noise hazard, going off like a firecracker in the morning. If you keep it up, I could justify giving you a ticket for disturbing the peace."
"Eh! Cold-hearted," Lucas muttered, his face twisting into a bitter, frost-nipped scowl.
Shangri-La didn't even look up as she shoved a heavy clipboard into his chest. "Act like an adult, Lucas. Being a police officer isn't always about high-stakes shoot-outs. It's about service—everything from writing a parking ticket to the 'movie magic' chaos you boys caused the other night."
Lucas looked at her with a flat expression, his mind drifting back to the PR bust at the bar. It had ended like a total Michael Bay production: explosions, physics-defying combat, and logic thrown completely out the window.
"Right... service," he said dryly.
"Don't give me that face," she countered, her eyes narrowing behind her lenses. "I know exactly what happened that night. Even I haven't been able to scrub the image of that block-leveling explosion from my mind."
"You're so strict under those glasses," Lucas remarked, leaning against a lamp post. "Yet you're such a nerd when it comes to insects."
"Insects!" Shangri-La felt genuinely offended by the choice of words. "No! They are graceful, complex creatures. Butterflies, in particular, are the most beautiful examples of nature's artistry." Her entire demeanor shifted instantly; her cold, officer-like tone vanished, replaced by a sweet, airy voice as she spoke of her tiny, winged favorites.
Lucas shrugged, completely unfazed. "I don't get the appeal. We (Marines) ate those during survival training."
The air went dead silent. The ticking of a nearby clock seemed to stop, and for Shangri-La, reality itself appeared to shatter into a million jagged pieces. The image of a Marine snacking on her "graceful" butterflies flashed through her mind like a horror movie.
"Oh, boy... I think I broke her," Lucas uttered, waving a hand in front of her face. Shangri-La remained completely motionless, her eyes glazed over and her face drained of all life. Mentally, she had checked out of the patrol entirely.
Lucas sighed and continued the tedious task of slapping tickets onto the windshields of the remaining cars. He had just reached a sleek sedan when a sudden voice made him jolt. He spun around to find JS Maya standing there, clutching bags of groceries for the party. She gestured toward Shangri-La, who was still standing like a statue, staring into the void.
"Is she alright? Did something happen?" JS Maya asked, her brow furrowing with genuine concern.
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Yeah... it's kind of my fault. I mentioned something about survival training and insects, and she just... broke. Mentally. She's been frozen like that for five minutes."
JS Maya's expression shifted into a stern frown her dog ear raised sharp. She knew how much Shangri-La adored butterflies and her little "graceful creature." She stepped closer to Lucas, her tone shifting to that of an annoyed spouse giving a lecture. "You should keep in mind that she cares deeply for those things. You shouldn't say such insensitive things to her. You'd better apologize later, Lucas."
"Okay, okay... I'm sorry," he muttered, feeling the weight of the reprimand.
JS Maya's demeanor softened slightly, glad that he wasn't being stubborn about it. "Just stay out of trouble, okay? Be safe out here."
"Right. I'll come straight home as soon as I finish my shift," Lucas assured her. He watched her depart toward the next grocery store before turning back to his clipboard.
A regular officer walked by, munching on a donut and looking thoroughly confused by the scene. He gestured toward the retreating JS Maya. "Is she your wife--?"
Lucas didn't even look up. He ripped a fresh ticket from his book and slapped it directly onto the officer's forehead. "That's a violation for asking personal questions on duty."
....
Azur Lane Base – Harbor
Walking through the central base grounds, JS Izumo acted as a guide for the Fox Sisters, leading them through the shifting landscape of the Azur Lane headquarters.
"The snow has already begun to fall... it has been a long time since I last stepped foot here," Yamato remarked softly. She reached out a hand, watching as a single snowflake drifted onto her palm and melted against her warmth.
"There are so many structures now that didn't exist during my last visit."
"You'll catch a cold, Sister," Musashi warned, her eyes narrowing as she watched the carefree, spirited Yamato.
Yamato waved away the concern with a graceful flick of her hand. The cold was nothing to her; she possessed enough spiritual stamina to fend off the bite of winter. The Sun Goddess would not submit to a common cold, no matter how persistent the wind.
Musashi, however, remained unconvinced, her protective nature clashing with Yamato's whimsy. Meanwhile, Shinano was already succumbing to the seasonal drowsiness, her eyes half-closed.
"I want to sleep... I need a bed," Shinano uttered lowly, a small puff of mist escaping her lips with every slow breath.
"Not again," Musashi groaned, shifting to support her sister.
JS Izumo let out a small, amused smile, turning to meet the sisters' gaze. "I am also surprised to see the snow falling so heavily. We are relatively close to the tropics, after all. It must be the spirit of the season."
"Yes," Yamato agreed with a slow nod, but then her expression shifted. She noticed that the atmosphere of the holiday felt fundamentally different. There were no rowdy shouts, no staggering drunks, and not even the faint scent of spilled alcohol in the air. There was only the quiet humming of carols and the polite cheer of people passing by.
"Odd... something has changed. The base feels different than the last time I was here," she said, turning to JS Izumo for confirmation. "Did the Commander issue a sudden prohibition?"
JS Izumo didn't quite know how to respond at first, letting out a nervous, airy laugh. "Well... let's just say there's a new cop in town, and everyone sobered up very, very quickly."
"A new cop?" The Fox Sisters tilted their heads in unison, their ears twitching in confusion.
"A very... serious cop."
Just then, the silence of the morning was punctuated by the aggressive growl of a V8 engine. A Ford Mustang GT, sporting a sharp navy-and-white ALPD livery, drifted across the icy road. It performed a flawless, high-speed parallel park, skidding into a tight spot with surgical precision. Other drivers, who had been struggling to park in the slush, stopped and stared in awe at the perfect maneuver.
The door swung open, and a figure stepped out. The crunch of his boots against the fresh snow was the only sound in the immediate vicinity. Zumwalt had arrived, and no one on the base was bold enough to risk being persecuted by his brand of justice.
Yamato saw him emerge and nearly beamed, her tails swishing behind her. "Oh, that crisp uniform suits you quite well... Officer."
Zumwalt remained entirely nonchalant in the face of her flirting. He offered her a look that was as cold and biting as the winter weather itself.
"I appreciate your sweet words. But it would be better for you to maintain the line," he said, the last part clearly intended as a professional warning.
JS Izumo and Musashi both felt their brows twitch. Zumwalt's tone made it perfectly clear: he would throw Yamato in a cell without a second thought, warrant or no warrant, if she stepped out of line. Zumwalt also had other concern: Drew.
"It's probably best not to be flirty with the law," JS Izumo muttered, placing a steadying hand on Yamato's shoulder. "He's not the type to offer a holiday discount."
"So, how is the life of a peacekeeper treating you? Does everything go well?" Musashi asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the man.
"None have dared to enact misdeeds for fear of my swift judgment," Zumwalt replied, his tone as cold as the frost on his windshield. "It is far better for them to celebrate the holidays with their families than to spend them behind bars. I simply ensure they make the right choice."
Musashi's expression went flat. Back home, she had faced many men with this exact attitude—men who spoke of the law as if it were a divine, unshakeable force. To her, it sounded dangerously close to something else.
"That sounds borderline authoritarian," JS Izumo commented, crossing his arms.
"I didn't come here for your fair criticism," Zumwalt countered smoothly. He reached into his tactical vest, pulled out a stiff card, and handed it to JS Izumo.
"A Christmas card? For me?" JS Izumo asked, his confusion evident as he turned the card over in his hands.
Yamato leaned over his shoulder, her eyes beaming with renewed interest. "Is there something for me as well?" she asked, wondering if the stoic officer had a hidden sentimental side for the holidays.
JS Izumo scratched his head, looking at the card. "This is surprisingly thoughtful of you—"
"—It is an invitation to the upcoming party at the dormitory," Zumwalt interrupted, cutting him off before his imagination could drift too far from reality. "Hosted by none other than the former President and fourth of the Nimitz-class: Theodore Roosevelt. I am not nearly generous enough to hand out gift cards to everyone I meet."
"That sounds much more like the man I know," JS Izumo said with a smirk.
"An invitation... I never thought I would have the chance to meet the revered Theodore Roosevelt," Yamato said, her tone shifting from playful to genuinely intrigued. "It would be my pleasure, and the pleasure of the Sakura Empire, to be her honored guests."
She paused, her expression becoming more serious. "Story-wise, I've heard she can be quite a 'bomb' when it comes to her words. It reminds me of a certain member of the Royal Navy."
Yamato was clearly referring to a particular Royal Navy Queen known for a short temper that was inversely proportional to her height.
"Rest assured, we will be there," Musashi said, scanning the details of the card.
"I'm off," Zumwalt stated simply. He didn't wait for a farewell, climbing back into his Ford Mustang GT and roaring off down the snow-filled road as if the street were a private racetrack.
....
The Dormitory
Drew stood in the doorway of the common room, a steaming mug held firmly in her hands. The living room was a scene of absolute chaos and shattered decorations. Usually, holiday preparations were a gradual, festive process, but this party had been announced so late that everyone was currently scrambling as if they were preparing for a siege.
"Why did you wait until the last minute to announce this?" Drew asked, her voice heavy with her typical "cold morning" mood. "Everyone is running around like they're preparing for a world war."
Theodore looked like she was directing a cavalry charge. She stood atop a coffee table, pointing her finger with presidential authority to indicate where the tinsel should be hung and where the ornaments should be placed.
"I've been planning it!" Theodore shot back, though her voice lacked its usual bravado. "But my schedule was significantly thwarted by the fact that I ended up in jail." The memory of the arrest still stung, evident in her defensive tone.
"I'm only mad that he didn't hold back that night," Theodore continued, hopping down from the table. "But word on the street is that no one dares to break even the smallest law now. They found out one guy can level half a city block, and no poor soul wants to be the one to summon that kind of judgment near their front door. Besides... you encourage him."
"At least I wasn't the one who almost ended up behind bars," Hamilton countered with a smirk, leaning against the ladder as he adjusted a strand of tinsel.
Luna tried to cross his arms in a defiant gesture, but he quickly realized one of his hands was still being gripped firmly by the sleeping bunny. He gave up on the pose, sighing. "That was a huge coincidence! Besides, it was worth it. I got a free cola float for saving the bartender's life."
"And you made it into the newspaper," Hamilton added, though his pose undertone carried a playful tease. "Even if it wasn't the front page."
"At least I was called a hero," Luna defended, tilting his chin up.
"No one actually considers you a hero." Hammann returned sharply, her cat ears twitching as she carefully hung a gold bauble.
Before the bickering could escalate, Vestal walked into the room carrying a large tray filled with snacks for everyone. She announced a momentary ceasefire in the decorating war. "Break time, everyone! I know many of you are hungry after all that hard work."
The moment she heard the word 'snacks,' Theodore's commanding presidential persona vanished instantly. Her childish side resurfaced in a flash as she scrambled toward the table, eyes locked on the treats. Striding behind her was Drew, who actually carried a genuine, rare smile on her face.
"My, my... you're quite good at handling children. Are you preparing for something special... Sister?" Drew asked, catching Vestal completely off guard.
Vestal's face flushed a deep crimson at the sudden implication. "W-What?! I am not!" she stuttered, her face turning as red as a festive traffic light.
Drew's smile curved wider, and she let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the subtle reaction. "I'm just joking, Vestal. I'm not always the one with the perpetually furrowed brow," she said half-jokingly, taking a cookie from the tray.
Vestal let out a long breath, trying to cool the steam that had practically been rising from her cheeks. "Please, don't joke like that. Some people might actually take you seriously!"
Theodore, with a cookie already halfway in her mouth, turned around and mumbled through the crumbs. "You and that 'Doctor' are definitely a thing." She said it so casually, as if she were stating a simple fact of nature.
Vestal opened her mouth to lecture Theodore on her manners—specifically about not talking while eating—but she thought better of it. She simply grabbed another cookie and munched on it, choosing to ignore the comment entirely. The room filled with half-hearted laughter as the tension of the "war-like" preparations finally began to melt away into the holiday spirit.
Christmas Day
The bells of the base chapel rang out, their melody mingling with the sound of Christmas carols and distant laughter. Snow fell gently from a sky where the soothing moonlight peeked through breaks in the clouds, casting a silver glow over the festivities.
Inside the dormitory living room, the atmosphere was thick with the cozy, familiar warmth of a family gathering. Some guests discussed their social lives and work, others were clearly there only for the high-end buffet, and the younger shipgirls played near the tree in a whirlwind of chatter.
Then, the room's energy shifted as a very spirited figure made her entrance. Queen Elizabeth strode into the room with her full entourage of maids and servants, her head held high.
"This party you have put together has managed to catch my attention," Queen Elizabeth announced, her tone dripping with its usual regal arrogance. "In such a short amount of time, you have created a decor that is actually... suitable for my eyes."
Matching that arrogance with her own presidential bravado, Theodore stepped forward to meet the monarch. "If I am to invite the Queen of a formidable navy, I must put in the effort to make things presentable for royalty—even on a tight schedule."
"My, it is fascinating how you accomplished all this so quickly," Hood added, offering genuine praise for the grandeur of the decorations.
"I thank you for the admiration. With my guidance, my friends put a great deal of care into the details," Theodore said, while behind her, Hamilton's eye twitched with doubt over exactly how much "guidance" had actually been involved.
Seeking to pivot the conversation, Queen Elizabeth interjected, moving toward a more tactical topic. "Now, regarding the upcoming joint operations... I shall be taking charge, concluding that the theater is European and therefore close to my home waters."
Theodore smirked, immediately crushing the Queen's planned delusion. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Your Majesty, but I've already consulted with Admiral Nimitz and the other Azur Lane heads. I'll be taking charge as the official replacement during Enterprise's absence."
"Combat experience-wise... I suppose I see why," Queen Elizabeth muttered, though she was clearly salty about a decision made by the higher-ups without her royal consultation.
"Don't be all sulky now. I have a proposal for you," Theodore said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin.
Queen Elizabeth perked up, her curiosity piqued. "And what might that be? It sounds tempting."
"I may have been chosen as Fleet Command, but fancy electronics and modern radar aren't perfect in the chaos of a long-drawn-out engagement. I still need someone with the intuition of someone who knows the individual temperaments of those who might pose a threat in this operation. I want you as my tactical advisor."
Queen Elizabeth let out a soft huff of pride, her ego sufficiently stroked. "Sounds like a solid plan."
"I took Enterprise advice. You seems to have further knowledge
She raised her glass.
Theodore did the same, and both shared a toast. As the Queen and the Loli-President found common ground, the rest of the room watched with relief. The relationship between the two was visibly improving; instead of bickering over whose authority who, they had found a shared goal that forced them to cooperate for bettering the future.
.....
In another corner of the room, however, a much warmer scene was unfolding—one that was starting to make the thermostats in the building struggle.
Two women of vastly different backgrounds and classes sat at a specific table. It wasn't just any table; it was a zone that everyone else was actively avoiding. The sheer pressure of their combined auras had made the air around them thick and unbreathable.
Drew, feeling the exertion of this aura, decided to break the silence before the tension became permanent. She stared directly at the woman opposite her: Yamato.
"It seems you've set your eyes on a particular man... interesting," Drew said, her words laced with a subtle venom.
"Of all the people I known to tail him, you're certainly the most persistent one."
Yamato maintained her poise, her expression regal and filled with effortless authority. "Yes. I am." She boldly declared like something of an audience would hear.
"Are you even aware of what you're getting into?" Drew's eyes narrowed into slits, while slowly churning the wine glass she held.
"I am... and it seems we both share the same view of the same man," Yamato responded, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.
A sparks of lightning ignited, invisible, yet felt in the air between the two.
Seated at the same table, Vestal could practically feel the heat radiating from the two women. Fearing that the holiday party was about to turn into a 'Clash of Mommy', she interjected just in time.
"I think we should all settle down and talk this out on neutral terms," Vestal said, her voice the lone pillar of reason. Her figure felt tiny compared to the metaphorical tonnage these two women brought to the table. "I don't know how the two of you ended up interested in the same man, but please, do not make a scene in a crowded place like this."
The two women fell silent, momentarily setting aside their rivalry to listen to the voice of reason.
"Let's discuss this somewhere else," Drew suggested, her voice cooling, as tension lowers. "Next time, and certainly not in front of the press."
Yamato glanced around, noting the reporters and cameras documenting the gathering. A spark of controversy was the last thing the Sakura Empire needed as a headline. "A wise choice. There is a time and place for everything, and today is a special day."
Eagle Union and Sakura Empire only just healed from conflict and only building up relationship, one impulse of emotion could ruin what Musashi her sister had built for months.
"I agree," Drew said, her smile becoming more genuine. They shared a brief, firm handshake—a momentary truce for Christmas Day. For today, they were friends. Tomorrow, they would be rivals again.
Vestal let out a long sigh of relief, leaning back in her chair as the air finally became breathable again.
....
On the Roof
Zumwalt sat in at his Motivational Metal Folding Chair, his katana leaning against the metal frame. Dressed in a sharp, black tuxedo that contrasted with the white dusting of snow, he silently watched the flakes fall under the soothing moonlight. Below him, the dormitory echoed with the distant, boisterous cheers of the holiday and the muffled melody of carols. The crowded party was no place for him; he found his solace in the quiet night and the vast, silver moon above.
He reached into a small cooler he had hauled onto the roof and pulled out a cold Monster Energy drink (of course). The silence of the rooftop calmed his mind. It was a tactical retreat—not just from the noise, but to avoid provoking the two problematic women downstairs. He knew the press was still hunting for a scoop on the "PR Bust," and he had no intention of giving them a front-row seat to a battle for dominance between Drew and Yamato.
"Alone again?" Jimmy asked, his voice breaking the stillness as he climbed onto the roof.
"I prefer this silence," Zumwalt replied without turning his head.
"Umm... just so you know, the two seem to have called a truce. They aren't in a battle for who's gonna get who anymore," Jimmy said, wanting to offer his friend a bit of peace of mind.
"I sensed it. They lowered their auras of authority. I can barely feel the pressure from up here," Zumwalt said, maintaining his signature nonchalant tone.
Jimmy sat on the ledge beside him, looking out at the base lights. "I don't know about you, but you need to do something about this eventually. Drew has a dark side that no one wants to see. It's better not to provoke her further, but not ignore her completely."
"I am avoiding the situation entirely to not incur her further," Zumwalt countered.
"Right. By hiding up here, alone," Jimmy said dryly, as he looked left and right, baffled as to why all the place he chose the roof.
As the silence began to settle again, two more figures emerged from the rooftop access window: Arizona and Lucas.
"Hey! Don't stay up here all by yourself without us," Lucas shouted, his voice booming and clearly laced with a bit of holiday "spirit."
Arizona held up a chilled bottle and several clean glasses. "I brought the good stuff. Treats for the survivors of the ALPD."
Arizona used the opportunity to hide, he knows once he was scene with Sheffield – again, Pennsylvania won't stop making jabs at them. So he chose to retreat with them.
"Ah, perfect timing," Jimmy greeted them. A bottle of high-quality alcohol was exactly what they needed to ward off the chill of the winter night.
Zumwalt felt a flicker of frustration as his silent sanctuary was suddenly invaded by the casual noise of his peers. "Why is it that you three always bring the noise wherever I go?"
"Don't be such a loner. It's Christmas," Lucas said, pouring a drink and offering the glass to him. "Better to warm up the night with this than to have energy drinks all the time. Besides... boys will be boys."
Zumwalt looked at the glass, then at the three men who had stood by him through the chaos of the city-block-leveling bust. Slowly, he reached out and took the drink. The silence was gone, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie.
The Christmas day concluded with the night, everyone put aside their difference and rivalry as the spirit of Christmas felt in their hearts.
MERRY CHRISTMAS