Rinopolis, Brazil

7:30am

Usually, someone needed a stepladder to reach the top of a Christmas tree.

They weren't short things, after all- well, the real ones, at least. Some folks seemed to think that you could get away with a tree that was barely higher than your shoulders, but Timur Glazkov knew better. A real Christmas tree was, to begin with, tall. Tall enough to make it impossible for children to reach the top even by standing on tiptoe, and enough to make adults get a facefull of pine needles if they walked into one.

On top of that, they needed to be thicc. A real tree wasn't some skinny, needle-like thing that resembled a pipe cleaner, but actually something that was bushy and wide around. The branches had to be close and heavy enough to hide the trunk, and to make poking your hand in to attempt to steal the presents tucked under the base hard to do without getting your hand poked by all the countless spines.

To Timur's satisfaction though, it seemed Taina understood this. The girl was as adept at getting into the holidays as she was at getting intel out of someone at the edge of her knife.

The tree she'd gotten ahold of definitely fulfilled all those criteria, and it wasn't even that heavy either. That'd made manhandling it up into the living room where it stood now decidedly easy- not that Timur had much doubt he'd have had trouble with it even if it hadn't been light. After all, he hadn't spent his childhood in Vladivostok- that bustling Pacific port city of far eastern Russia- being a couch potato, or his subsequent career in the 45th Guards riding a desk.

Now that it was finally all set up, Timur could get on with the real reason anybody brought a tree like this into their home: decorating it.

That in of itself was a complex were all kinds of bright and shiny things to be hung: the colorful spheres with their reflective sides,the strings of lights that had to be hung carefully across and over the branches ( a task that often resulted in getting your hands poked and scratched ), porcelain dolls with rosy cheeks, and threaded red tassels.

Every December was a white one back in Vladivostok. I don't know what was prettier; all that snow, or prettying up the tree

None of these adornments came cheap, of course, but then again, quality wasn't quality without it. Besides, if you bought the right ones once, you could store them in prime condition and keep them nice and fresh until they were needed again. It reminded Timur of all the Christmases he'd celebrated during his upbringing back in Russia; the retrieval of last year's decorations was one of the best things about putting up this year's tree.

Jordan would want to put a grenade on top of this, rather than a star. He's crazy, even for an American.

Timur shook his head at the FBI operator's love of explosives, as he tugged a length of lights around the upper reaches of the tree. With his height- 5'10- reaching up there was no problem at all, and he easily put them in place. The sniper's fingers, already dexterous from manipulating precision rifles for years, were well suited to the task. They easily flexed and pulled, always exact and

As he finished, he noticed movement out the corner of his eye, off to the right. Turning around to face that way, he was greeted by a tan skinned woman with dark, braided hair entering the room.

" Woooow. You pulled this off all by yourself ? ",

Taina Pereia smirked as she looked over the tree. The Brazilian wasn't wearing her skull facepaint today ( obviously ), which Timur personally preferred, as it showed off her well angled cheekbones better.

A lot less scary.

The Russian man shrugged. " To put it simply: Da "

" Do you approve ? If not, I could begin from scratch. Decorating one of these trees is more fun than it looks. "

Taina's smirk now became a full on smile. " No need. I actually think it looks good. But, it needs something else- "

With that, she help up the bronze colored object she'd been holding in her right hand. Timur had noticed it as soon as he'd seen her, but from the angle, he couldn't tell what it was until now.

Oh. Its a- wait, is that a Jaguar? ! Looks like one, at least

" I was looking everywhere for this ", Taina explained, carefully turning the predatory cat around and over, touching the tips of its ears. " Every year, I remember this on the top of our tree. Out of everything we put on it, I always remembered this Jaguar. Its an animal of Brazil. I wish it were on our flag. "

Oh, so it was a Jaguar. A surprisingly detailed one too- it even had whiskers !The jungle predator was posed in a regal sitting position, looking as if it would be right at home guarding the entrance to a national library, or a presidential palace. There was something very cultured about it. The sculpture didn't look shoddily made at all.

Her apparent fondness for the cat-shaped object amused Timur, and he couldn't help but smile at that. It was pretty cute.

" It does seem like a fitting way to cap off the tree, doesn't it ? Something that velichavvy ( dignified ) should belong on top. "

" That it does ", Taina nodded.

Timur put a hand out. " Want me to put it up ? "

" Hey ! ", Taina held the Jaguar away from him, suppressing a laugh. " This one is mine ! "

" Unless you have something you want to take the top, that is . "

Funny she should ask

" As a matter of fact- " Timur had been considering using his own top choice instead, but he wanted to run it by her now first. Especially after seeing how much she liked that Jaguar sculpture. He didn't want to ruin the tree by sticking something on it she wouldn't like.

" Oh ? ", Taina raised a brow. " And what would that be ? "

" This . "

Reaching into one of his spacious cargo pockets, Timur pulled out a Matryoshka doll.

Everyone knew about the iconic Russian dolls. They were renowned as much for their intricate paint designs- always of vibrant colors, usually of blue and red- as they were for their unmistakable design. Shaped like an egg, each of the wooden dolls were built to slot into another by fitting completely inside. One big doll could hold several others, all neatly slotted into each other.

The one Timur held now was one from the last Christmas he'd had in Vladivostok. Painted with the gleaming white span of Valdivostok's Zolotoy Bridge, the rest of the doll was a weave of the colors of the Russian flag, with its ends painted a sandy tan color.

" Hermosa ! ( Beautiful ) ", exclaimed Taina, when she saw it.

" Wow. That's work of art. "

There was no arguing with that, and hearing her say it was genuinely pleasing. Timur gazed down at the doll he held, letting his fingers glide over its perfectly smooth wooden surface.

" Not exactly what you'd expect from Russia, eh ? ", he commented wryly.

" Disparates ( Nonsense ) " Taina disagreed. " I've seen you paint, Timur. And I know Russia got a lot more culture that most these days think. "

" Yes, but I didn't make this. "

" You want to learn dollmaking ? ", Taina quipped teasingly. " Everybody back at base wouldn't ever leave you alone. "

Timur chuckled softly, shrugging. " True. Well, than its a good thing its only you and me here. "

On impulse, he closed the distance between them. Reaching up to gently caress her jawline in his right hand, he gently pulled her toward him- and she did not resist-, and kissed her.

It lasted for several very worthwhile seconds, before they finally had to pull back. Taina was smiling fully, and Timur realized he'd nearly dropped the Matryoshka

Careful, suka !

Their foreheads were still touching, and the Russian sniper's gaze couldn't turn away from Taina's eyes. Timur usually found himself focused on what was far away, but now, all he could focus on was her.

" What's Russian for, ' I love you ' ? ", murmured the Brazilian.

" You sure you want to know ? Its, a bit of a twister ".

She kissed him again. " I insist. "

There wasn't anything Timur could do, but comply. And that was fine with him.

" Ya, Lyublyu, tebya ", he whispered, slowly and meticulously.

" Ya, L-lbu, teba- "

Taina foguht impressively to get her tongue around the unfamiliar words, and Timur loved her more for that. But, truth be told, it didn't matter she couldn't get it right for now.

They'd get there. Together.

" A for effort, Skull Girl. ". The Russian sniper held the BOPE knife wielder tighter.

It wasn't a white Christmas,but that was alright.

Timur was loving it anyway.