[FF7-Saiyuki] Spiked Eggnog
Spiked Eggnog
FF7 - Saiyuki crossover

Advent 05: #01
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Yule. It's snowing. The last thing President and the Department of Administrative Research have on their minds as they settle down for the traditional turkey dinner is the arrival of several unexpected guests...
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Gojyo/Hakkai, various others.

Snow was something of a novelty. White, clean, pristine snow.

Rufus stood by the window, coat wrapped around his shoulders, staring at the specks that swirled in the storm outside. The landscape beyond was a sheer blanket of white, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Someone had come by with a snow plough earlier that day and cleared the road, but the rest…

He recalled snow like this from his childhood. A mansion he had been convinced was haunted, and twisted mountains in the distance. He remembered hating the place.

“Not like that grey shit we get back at Midgar, eh?” Reno said as he sauntered past, balancing several bottles and several glasses. There was a clink as he plonked them down on the table.

“It didn’t snow in Junon,” Rufus mused. “We got rain, hail, flurries… but not real snow.”

“Too close to the coast, chief. And aren’t you going to help set the table at least?”

“He’s exempted,” Tseng said, emerging from the kitchen with platters balanced all the way to his shoulders and scowling at Reno for even suggesting it.

“On account of injuries? But we all got love taps from Kadaj and crew.” The retort was half hearted, though, as Reno leaned back against the wall and started whistling some jaunty Yule tune.

“Stop complaining,” Rude mumbled as he shouldered past, carrying a stack of empty plates and cutlery. “He signs our paychecks.”

Reno made a face. “Remember those godawful office parties? And how Senior would dress up in that red suit of his and we’d all make snide jokes about Santa?”

“Especially when Rufus was still young enough to be bounced on his knee,” Tseng murmured.

Rufus glanced at him. “I would rather not remember, thank you.”

“Yeah but—“ whatever Reno had been about to say was lost as staccato raps split the air. The Turks jumped – noticeable only in sudden tension that pervaded the air, and all present reached for their various sidearms and weapons.

“Geez. Who would come all the way up here in this kind of weather?” Reno asked, moving for the door.

Elena, emerging from the kitchen, beat him to it. “Someone looking for Healin’, most likely.” She drew her pistol and flicked off the safety, before glancing at the other Turks.

Tseng nodded back. Rufus sighed and moved away from the window.

They braced as Elena opened the door.

There were four shapes huddled on the doorstep, dressed in off-white cloaks drenched with snow melt. And each and every one of them wore shades.

“If you’re members of the Rude Fangurls club, you have the wrong address,” Elena said.

“The what?” the shortest member of the group said, as the tallest promptly cut in, “They came up with a club just for rude fangurls?”

“Excuse me,” one of the remaining two said, shouldering forward. “We appear to have lost our way. Could you direct us to an inn?”

“An inn?” Elena asked. “I’m afraid this is the closest to an inn there is around here… unless you head down to Edge, but that’s a good hour’s drive away…”

“Where are we?” the last one demanded brusquely.

“Healin’ Lodge,” Elena replied, shivering slightly in the drafts of cold air that are billowing into the room.

“Healin?” the polite one said, sweeping back his hood to reveal hair that might have been dark brown or black. He pulled out a map that was obviously well used, and consulted it, frowning.

Elena, in the meantime, was shooting looks at Tseng that read something along the lines of: Do we let them in or throw them out? Or do we continue to stand here with the door open and turn into human popsicles while we’re at it?

Tseng tossed the ball to Rufus.

Rufus shrugged and tossed the ball back. Security is your concern.

“Hell, just kick them out already,” Reno grumbled, shaking. He had never taken well to the cold.

“We… seem to be off our route. Again.” The map consulter’s shoulders sagged.

“It’s the fucking holiday season,” the tall one growled. “Always screws with the navigation.”

“We wouldn’t happen to be in Togenkyou any more, would we?” the map consulter asked.

“You’re in the Midgar region,” Elena replied.

“Thought so,” the taller one said, producing a cigarette from the folds of his cloak and lighting up. “This always happens around Yule.”

The map consulter was smiling in a sheepish manner of someone caught out in public in nothing but his boxers. “I’m terribly sorry, but would you mind if we stayed for a while? You did say that this was the closest thing to an inn…”

“Hey, Sanzo! That guy looks just like you!”

Rufus glanced up at the exclamation by the shortest member of the lost quartet, just in time to see him get clouted over the head by his team member.

“Shut your trap, idiot! Don’t you know the meaning of incognito?”

“No? Is it good to eat?”

Rufus decided that enough was enough. If this was a group of assassins, they were also the most incompetent bunch ever. On the other hand, their dialogue did seem to suggest that they weren’t from the area, and news and information was always welcomed in these post-Meteor days.

“Let them in,” he told Elena.

“Thank the gods,” the smiling one said, in obvious relief, as they all but shoved their way past Elena into the living room, shedding snow and snow melt.

“I do appear to have forgotten to state the conditions,” Rufus added, just as the door clicked shut behind them.

“Conditions?” the smiling one – evidently the spokesman for the group – asked. One of the others whipped out a golden credit card and tossed it across the room at him.

Rufus ignored it as it went sailing past. Rude intercepted it silently behind him.

“Surely it’s common courtesy to drop your disguises in front of your hosts,” he said calmly, holding out a hand for the card. Rude obligingly dropped it into his palm. “And I’m afraid there is a need for introductions.”

The card read The Three Aspects, Tenkai Central Bank. Obviously not from around these parts.

“Your real names, please,” Rufus said, as the smiling one opened his mouth.

There was a pause as the group went into a huddle. He heard several mentions of ‘they didn’t react to the word Sanzo’ and ‘maybe they hear it?’ ‘don’t be stupid’.

“I’m Cho Hakkai,” the smiling one said at last, removing the shades to reveal a pair of deep green eyes. He fumbled in a pocket for a monocle, and slide it over the right one. Turning, he indicated his companions, who were similarly removing their disguises.

The short one was Son Goku. The tall one, Sha Gojyo. And the last, Genjo Sanzo.

Foreign sounding names, check.

“And you are?” the one named Hakkai asked.

Lack of recognition, check.

“Rufus Shinra.”

Absolute lack of response, check.

“Pleased to meet you.” Hakkai was glancing around at the Turks, obviously wondering about the similarities in dress sense and whether they’d just wandered into some cult celebration or fancy dress party.

Ignorance as to the nature of the Turks, check.

Definitely not from these parts.

There was definitely something very strange going on, and Rufus was quite sure it wasn’t the alcohol. They hadn’t started drinking yet.

“Aw well,” Reno said, stowing the EMR in his coat. “Let’s eat.” He dropped into the nearest chair, breaking the tension in the air quite spectacularly.


“Well, thank you—“ Hakkai started to say, when there was a sudden movement down the front of his cloak, and something white burst out from his abdominal region.

Rufus saw Reno biting back comments about phalluses as the white thing tumbled out of the cloak entirely amidst a jumble of wings and tail. It was a dragon. Not the huge fire-spitting ones atop Mount Nibel that Heidegger had used to threaten to feed him to. A tiny little thing, with red beady eyes and a fluffy mane, and, from the way it had flown unsteadily across the room and wrapped around Rude’s neck, a very sociable animal.

“Ah…” Hakkai said. “That’s our pet dragon. Jiipu. Sorry about that…”

“…It’s okay,” Rude replied.

“Ah, we didn’t mean to…”

Rufus tuned them out. Instead, he sent the credit card flying back across the room with a flick of his wrist.

“Sanzo-san? I’m afraid we don’t accept credit.”

The one named Sanzo snagged it between two fingers, a feat that made Reno whistle in admiration. “What, cash?” he asked around the cigarette dangling between his lips.

“We deal in information here.”

Sanzo’s eyes narrowed. “Information. We could use some of that as well.”

Rufus gestured at the table. “Then by all means. We were about to have a meal. You’re invited to join us.”

He did not need to repeat the offer. Goku lunged forward, falling into the nearest seat. “I thought you were never going to offer!” he caroused, sounding eerily like a younger version of Reno. “I mean, here we are stuck on the road for hours and in a snowstorm without a bite to eat since lunch and I’m starving—“

“Shut up!” Sanzo snapped in exasperation, neatly backhanding with him what looked like a Wutai paper fan. He pulled up an extra chair and sat, as Elena disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve more dinner services. Rude followed, still sporting a dragon shawl, as Tseng subtly returned his pistol to its concealed holster.


“So, Shinra,” Gojyo said. “Why don’t you introduce your friends here?”

“Call me Rufus.” He smiled briefly.

“So formal?” Gojyo said. “But you’re calling us by our first names.”

Rufus blinked. “Am I?”

Gojyo blinked. “You didn’t realise?”

There was a pause, before Reno burst out laughing. “You guys are Wutes, aren’t you? Only the Wutes have that messed up surname in front first name behind nonsense, the weirdos…”

Tseng pointedly cleared his throat.

“Sorry boss,” Reno grinned. “But it’s true, ya’know.”

“That’ll be a 5% pay cut,” Tseng replied.

“Who the hell issues pay cuts on Yule?” Reno cried. “Well, besides Wutes—“

“Stuff it, Reno,” Rude said.

“Wutes?” Hakkai asked.

“Short for Wutainese. You’re from Wutai, aren’t you?” Elena asked.

“Where or what is Wutai?” Sanzo demanded.

“They don’t appear to be from these parts,” Rufus told the Turks, stressing the last two words ever so subtly to convey the message that ‘parts’ included ‘world’, ‘reality’, ‘universe’ and other similarly big concepts.

“Either way… yes, it is true about the surnames,” Hakkai said. “I apologise, Rufus-san.”

“I should be the one apologising,” Rufus returned. “I—“

“Naw, just carry on,” Gojyo said with an airy wave. “Monkey here doesn’t have the brains to understand the difference between a first name and a surname, and that Sha-san nonsense makes me sick.”

“I’m not a monkey!” Goku protested. “And can we start eating before the food gets cold?”

“Well.” Rufus gestured quickly around the table, pointing out the names of the Turks. There was still some tension in the air and too many smiles with too much fang – exactly the reason why he brought the Turks along to particularly troublesome negotiations, but never to the ones where the other party was friendly. The Turks simply didn’t know how to behave themselves in polite company, even if it was a dinner table and not a negotiating one.

He also noticed that Gojyo was leaning uncomfortably close to Elena.

“And this is Elena,” Rufus said.

“So, sweetie, what’s your name?” Gojyo practically purred.

“I think Reno’s better at this,” Tseng murmured.

“Agreed,” Rufus replied.

Elena glanced at Gojyo in exasperation. “Elena. The Pre—Rufus just said it.”

“I only have eyes and ears for you,” Gojyo replied.

The rest of the Turks and Rufus exchanged knowing glances as Gojyo leaned in even closer, whispering something into Elena’s ear.

…And was promptly sent flying across the room by Elena’s punch.

“Do that again, Gojyo-san,” Elena said, sipping her wine, “And I’ll kick your ass all the way to the Promised Land.”

“Elena,” Tseng said, a shade reproving, “Did you just give away our next mission destination?”

Elena colored slightly. “I’m sorry, sir.”


Rufus regarded Gojyo curiously as he staggered back to his seat, clutching a bleeding nose. His hair, although in disarray after that little… tiff… looked somehow familiar.

“Perchance… did you know Sephiroth?” Rufus asked, while Tseng piled potatoes onto his plate.

“Sephi-what?” Gojyo asked, his voice slightly muffled behind his hand. “Whozat? Why do you ask?”

Rufus indicated Gojyo’s bangs. “Oh, a certain amount of resemblance.”

Gojyo wiped his nose on the napkin and leered. “Was he hot?”

Rufus shrugged, as Tseng topped up his wine.

“Ex boy-friend, I take it? Does that mean I stand a chance?”

Rufus went stock still, eyes widening. Did he just… He felt an arm sneak around his shoulders as Tseng draped himself protectively around him. “Alas, no,” the Turk said, and the edge in his voice could have sliced diamond. “To both questions.”

Hakkai coughed, and Gojyo shot him a sheepish grin. The smile that Hakkai returned him somehow made Rufus’ blood run cold, and he wasn’t even on the receiving end of it. Suppressing a mental sigh, he turned to his badly neglected dinner—

--when the door, which Elena would later insist had been quite securely locked, slammed open.


Snow swept in with a whoosh, taking out several candles. Everyone was on their feet – Turks, visitors, Rufus too, weapons appearing in hands amidst clinks of metal and the clicks of disarming safeties.

The intruder, standing in the doorway, looked completely unperturbed by the amount of firepower leveled at his head. His white split cape fluttered like wings behind him, standing out in stark contrast to the black cassock that he wore.

“Good evening!” he chirped, radiating light faintly like a Yule tree, and brushing snow off very familiar looking silver hair—

--they all moved at the same time, leaping for the door. And collapsed in a jumbled pile of arms and legs (and one tail) as the door banged shut in the intruder’s face under the combined force of nine people (and one dragon) hitting it like the human bowling ball from Hell.

One… two…

They glanced cautiously around, and breathed a careful sigh of relief.

“He’s gone… isn’t he?” someone – Hakkai, perhaps -- asked.

“I hope so.” Elena shot back.

“That was one of those shinentai, wasn’t it?” Reno asked.

“Shinentai?” Goku said.

“Sephiroth clones,” Rude answered.

“That Sephy person again,” Gojyo said. “He sure was a big hit here, wasn’t he?”

“He was insane. He burnt things,” Tseng replied.

“He was hot then,” Gojyo said.

“Clones?” Sanzo asked.

“It’s rather complicated. But suffice to say, we’ve been experiencing a profusion of silver haired men who harbour the ability to turn into Sephiroth.” Rufus shuddered slightly. “And they’re all insane.”

“Insane, chief?” Reno said. “I thought they were pretty hot—“

Rufus’ growl cut him off in mid sentence. “You weren’t stuck in their presence in a wheelchair for extended periods of time.”

“I’ll kill them,” Tseng said calmly.

“They’re already dead, sir,” Elena pointed out.

“Not this one,” Tseng replied.

“Hazel?” Goku asked, throwing off Rude as he sat up. “He’s weird and he brings people back to life with youkai souls, but I don’t see him turning into Gojyo.”

Rufus and the Turks exchanged looks. “Lifestream manipulating silver haired person who appears from nowhere,” Rufus said.

“Definitely of Kadaj’s ilk,” Tseng finished.

“Shall I kill him?” Rude asked.

“I have first dibs,” Elena said.

“Guys, we’re on leave!” Reno whined.

“Killing him is our job,” Sanzo said.

“Why haven’t you already done so?” Gojyo asked him. “You had plenty of opportunities when you were busy shagging—“

There was the click of the priest cocking his Smith and Wesson.

And four more clicks, all the Turks instinctively leveled guns at him.


Dead silence settled across the room, as everyone stared uncomfortably at the excessive number of projectile weapons being waved in close proximity.

Except for Goku, who stood, stretched, and asked: “Can you pass the turkey?”


There was a discrete cough, as Tseng signaled everyone to stand down. There was a discrete cough, as Hakkai whispered some threat in Sanzo’s ear to get him to put the gun away. There was general shuffling, and embarrassed glances, and mutters.

“I think your hand is down my pants, Reno.”
“Can’t be me, chief, I’m over here…”
“Whoops, sorry, heh heh. Thought you were Hakkai.”
“Gojyo, do that one more time and you’re not getting any tonight. Or ever again.”
“Whoever the fuck has his hands on my ass is had better remove them now before I shoot him!”
“Whoops, sorry. Thought you were Rude.”
“The fuck you did!”
“Sanzo, did you and Hazel really—“
“Shut up before I kill you.”

But soon, relevant limbs had been sorted out and returned to their respective owners, and everyone was standing up and dusting himself or herself off, and with the scraping of chairs, they took their places once more.

“What a terribly exciting night,” Hakkai said, as the rest nodded in agreement.

“So…” Tseng said, when they had stuffed their faces in silence for a few minutes. “You appear to be off somewhere in a great hurry.”

“We’re saving the world,” Goku said between mouthfuls.

“Saving the world?” Tseng asked, raising on elegant eyebrow. “From Sephiroth clones?”

“Oh, he’s just a minor annoyance,” Hakkai said. “A terribly scary and sparkly one, but still a minor annoyance. The main threat is from Gyuumaou.”

“And what is this Gyuumaou?”

“You haven’t heard of him?” Gojyo asked. “You guys sure are isolated.”

“Gyuumaou is a terrible demon king who once attempted to take over the world. We’re not so much trying to stop him as trying to stop his resurrection,” Hakkai said, ignoring Gojyo’s comment.

The Turks and Rufus exchanged glances. “Resurrection?”

“Bunch of mad scientists are trying to resurrect him and rule the world or someshit,” Sanzo said, abandoning his food for a cigarette.

The Turks and Rufus exchanged more glances. “Scientists?”

“Would one happen to be called Professor Hojo?” Elena asked.

“Who knows,” Sanzo replied, lighting up.

“Well, the lead scientist goes by the name of Doctor Nii Jieni, from what we’ve heard,” Hakkai told them.

“A pseudonym,” Tseng said promptly.

“Black haired?” Elena asked.

The visitors nodded.

“Bespectacled?”

Another nod.

“General untrustworthy and sleazy air?”

Nod.

The Turks and Rufus exchanged horrified glances. “Oh Jenova. It’s him!”

“Shall I kill him?” Rude asked.

“We’re on leave!” Reno whined.

“Well, we’ll be fine!” Goku said. “We’ll kick their ass. You guys just sit tight. And by the way, this stuff tastes awesome.”

“Tseng. I want to you check this out at the earliest opportunity,” Rufus said quietly.

”Yes sir. Even if they’re from another world?”

“If Hojo has found a way to transcend worlds, what makes you think that he won’t come back?”

“Good point, sir. I’ll look into it at the earliest opportunity.”

Sanzo, who had been noting their exchange, if not the contents, raised an eyebrow and flicked cigarette ash in Rufus’ general direction. “A question.”

Rufus turned to regard him politely.

“You get your servants to listen to you with little or no question,” Sanzo said. “Just how do you do that?”

“You should try sleeping with them,” Rufus said calmly, sipping his wine.

Sanzo choked and nearly swallowed his cigarette.

“Careful, Sanzo-sama,” Gojyo said, leaning over to thump him on the bad. “And you know, young blondie over there has a good point…”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Sanzo growled.

“As long as you concentrate on the fucking rather than the killing…”


“So,” Hakkai said to Rude, as the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees. “What do you guys do?”

“We work for Shinra Company.”

“A company? What do you guys do?”

“Rape, plunder, and murder. Oh, and whatever else Chief asks us to do,” Reno replied, tossing down his knife and fork and breaking open a bottle of whiskey.

“We specialize in electricity production,” Rufus said acidly, shooting Reno a glare.

“Although we don’t do much of that these days. On account of everything getting blown to hell,” Reno grinned.

“Reno,” Rufus sighed.

“Well, well, Yeah. We’re rebuilding. Gonna kick ass and take names and dominate the market, all of that.”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow. Somewhere in the meantime, he had apparently knocked Gojyo out with his Wutai paper fan, and had settled in to enjoy the silence as his companion slumped on the ground and blabbered about shiny stars. “Whatever for?”

“I beg your pardon?” Rufus asked.

Sanzo shrugged. “It seems like a huge amount of trouble just for money. Don’t you guys have anything better to do with your lives?”

“Some of us need to earn a living, Sanzo-san,” Rufus said. “And money is a resource and a key to other resources. Surely you can appreciate its value.”

An indifferent shrug.

“But then, you are a priest,” Rufus said. “Forgive me.”

Sanzo pulled out another cigarette and grabbed the whiskey bottle from Reno. “Yeah.”

Rufus narrowed his eyes and adjusted several mental perceptions of his guests.

“Which means that he gets this unlimited credit card,” Goku piped up.

Now that was interesting. The gold card, perhaps? The one that had been flicked so casually over at him? “Unlimited?”

“Heaven’s credit card, really,” Hakkai answered. “Unlimited spending, and unlimited funds. He never has to worry about money.” His smile was just starting to get very slightly annoying…

“These gods you speak of…” Tseng said, leaning forward.

“Royal pains in the ass,” Sanzo replied. “Oi, saru, the potatoes aren’t meant for you alone.”

“Mmph, but they’re so good!” Goku said.

“Would they happen to have supernatural powers?” Tseng asked.

“Special powers?” Goku said.

“How about miraculous blood transfusions?” Hakkai supplied.

“Sounds like the Ancients, boss,” Reno said, deciding to be generous and pour a splash of whiskey on the comatose Gojyo.

“Kanzeon?” Sanzo said, “Well, she sure is an ancient old hag, anyway.”

Rufus was intrigued. “And what about the Promised Land?”

“Promised Land… hm… if it’s Heaven you’re talking about, well, no idea.” Sanzo leaned back. All of them had largely finished eating, and while it was traditional to start on the alcohol at this point, Rufus didn’t want anything to do with that bottle of whiskey, not with Reno drinking straight from it and running his tongue around the neck in a way that was probably illegal. Especially when he had that leer on his face.

“I’ve been doing a little bit of research,” Hakkai said. “And it appears that we were exiled at the same time we decided to leave.”

“Exiled? You can be exiled from the Promised Land?”

“The accounts aren’t clear, but it’s probably because of drinking too much, smoking too much, womanizing and cheating at cards.”

“Drinking, smoking, womanizing and cheating at cards.” Rufus glanced at Reno. “That’s it. You’re exempted from all missions involving the Promised Land.”

Reno stopped sucking on the bottle and on his most innocent, wide-eyed expression (guaranteed to give fangurls seizures the world round). “What did I do?” he said plaintively.


Rufus was saved from answering by a sudden trill from the white dragon. Hakkai glanced at it, as it ‘kyuu’-ed and went through a repertoire of squeaks.

“He says we have to go,” Hakkai reported. “Something about it being close to midnight.”

“The Cinderella effect,” Rude cut in, turning to stare at the dragon. “Thaumic influences on a night of especial significance, as caused by the conjunction of the probability streams of two worlds. Literary tradition dictates that the gateway closes at the midnight hour, and seeing that it is literary influence that brings about majority of the Cinderella effect…” he broke off, noticing the stares from the rest. “…That’s what the little guy is saying, at any rate.”

“You speak fluent Dragon,” Rufus noted quietly. “I see why we hired you.”

The foreigners exchanged rapid glances, then rose slowly. Goku was furtively emptying a plate into his knapsack.

“Well, if Jiipu says that we have to leave, I suppose we must,” Hakkai said, a trace of reluctance in his voice, no doubt thinking about the long and overall cold road ahead. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you. It’s a pity we couldn’t stay longer.”

Rufus stood, and three out of four of the Turks followed suit. Reno appropriated a bottle of wine for his personal consumption, and waved cheerily from where he was seated. “It is indeed a pity,” Rufus said. “On behalf of Shinra Company, I’d like to wish you all the best on your quest to stop Hojo.”

“’s Nii,” Goku said, around a large mouth of logcake.

“…The resident evil scientist,” Rufus said smoothly. “Do try to keep in touch. We would love to know how you’re progressing.”

“And stay away from silver haired creeps!” Reno added. “They’re bad for your health!”

“We figured that out already,” Sanzo growled, and for some unfathomable reason, blushed deeply.

And then there was nothing more to be said, no time even for one last one for the road. The foreigners pulled on their travel cloaks and headed for the door, milling around in the puddle of warmth and heat that was the doorstep, and wincing at the wind as they shook hands. And as the clock ticked inevitably towards midnight they clambered into the Jeep and set off.

The Shinra party stood on the doorstep, watching as the vehicle trundled down the road. Just as it neared the bend, it gracefully took off, soaring into the star-speckled sky. And like the infamous cow of yore, seemed to jump over the moon.

And Rufus turned gravely to Reno. “You spiked the eggnog, didn’t you?”

“There was no eggnog, chief! You banned it after you got smashed last year and let me—“

“It was the eggnog,” Rufus declared, and when the President said something was So, mere mortals did not argue with him.

And they trailed back into the warmth of the lodge.