Left-Handed Engineers From MARZ
Connor's gift

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I don't want to go into the entire exchange of gifts, so I'll just skip to the end. It turned out that very few people in the MARZ office could keep a secret, so there were only a few surprises. Zephyr insisted to Shauna that Reg had picked her Chinese good-luck cat out himself. Mariluz got very excited over the frog coin bank Connor had gotten her, one of those battery-operated ones that lapped the coins up with its tongue, even though it was second-hand. Zephyr opened his wok and remarked that he had finally received the frying pan he'd asked Santa for 23 years ago.

Connor was last to open his present. Mariluz, who had assigned herself as emcee, handed Connor the sloppily wrapped jewelry box. Connor tore the paper off carelessly and opened it to find a single key on a beat-up Disneyland keychain.

He blinked at it for a moment. "This is mine," he said, his voice small.

"Yah," Zephyr replied. "Merry Christmas."

Connor removed the key and ran his fingers along the inner perimeter of the box. He glanced at Zephyr and peered into the box again.

"Yes, there's more," Zephyr told him sternly. "I just couldn't fit it into the box."

Connor looked relieved, but puzzled.

Shauna groaned. "Oh, come on, Connor! When someone gives you a car key as a gift, what does it mean? You've seen it in a dozen TV commercials!"

"But this is the key to my old car! The one that doesn't run! The one that's been sitting right outside for the past two wee.... wait."

Zephyr cracked the hint of a smile. "What did you expect, a brand new one? It would've been a little bit over the $25 limit."

Connor gawked at Zephyr, started to say something, and then dashed outside. Shortly they heard the engine turn over violently, followed by an exuberant whoop. After a few minutes the car was turned off again and Connor bounced back in. "When did you... I can't believe you... oh God. Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Zephyr said.

"But... when?"

"After work, of course. Reg and I spent a few minutes on it every day after everyone else left. It was our pleasure, really. We love that sort of stuff."

"Wow." Connor bounced on his heels, looking like he wanted to hug them both (and, to Zephyr's relief, showing great restraint). "This is great."

"Well, I didn't want to get you socks, and I couldn't find any limp biscuits," Zephyr pointed out with a grin.

Zephyr was still grinning when everyone dispersed to go back to work and Connor showed up at the door of his office. He motioned Connor to the sofa and took the chair across from it, and for a few minutes they sat grinning at each other.

"This is totally the best gift; this rocks," Connor gushed. "You know... I hate to say it, but to tell the truth, I was never sure whether anyone even liked me all that much. I know I'm just a lousy intern, but... well, you know what I mean, right?"

Zephyr nodded. "I went through that when I was an intern. And I know I'm not all that quick with the compliments. But you deserve this."

"Thank you. That means a ton. I'm going to miss you guys."

"Miss us?" Zephyr regarded Connor with astonishment. "Where are you going?"

Connor hesitated. "My internship ends this week. It was only for the semester. If you want me to apply again for the summer..."

"Wait. Dammit, I forgot all about that! Hey, what are the chances I can talk you into staying?"

"Staying?"

"Yeah, man! I don't want to break in some new kid. I finally got you trained just right. You jump when I say jump, and tiptoe when you need to tiptoe; you know all my... um..."

"Quirks?" Connor offered.

"Eh, that'll do. You're a whiz with a tape measure and even your notes are getting better. You gotta stay, man. What can I do to fix it so you'll stay?"

"I've got a full semester of classes in the spring." Connor looked truly heartbroken. Good, thought Zephyr; he had a fighting chance.

"Take night classes. I'll give you plenty of time to study. I'll even help," Zephyr offered. He wasn't a natural salesman, ironically, but he laid it on as thick as he knew how. "I'll talk to Marsh about giving you a pay raise. The budget's not as tight as it used to be, so I'm sure we can afford it."

"But.... I already registered for my courses."

"You want me to talk to the school? Let me talk to your advisor. I'm sure we can work it out."

Connor blinked at Zephyr. "You really want me that bad?"

"Hell, yeah," Zephyr said. "C'mon, man, whaddyou say? You're part of the family now. Nobody can replace you. You can even talk to Reg. What do you think the odds are that we'll get another intern who can do that?"

"Yeah?" Connor looked down at the key that he still held in his hand. He turned it over and over and played with the keychain. Zephyr waited as several expressions crossed the intern's face. The poor kid would barely be able to afford dragging college out, he knew; on the other hand, a full courseload wouldn't pay the rent. And Zephyr really did depend on him, in more ways than one. There were all those little things he had trouble doing himself, things he found it difficult to mention casually. Connor had figured out most of those things quickly, requiring (with admirable tolerance) only a little bit of bullying here and there. Zephyr couldn't bear the thought of starting from scratch with someone less patient and observant. Who else would drive more carefully to ease his fears, or measure doorways while he had tea with a client, or reply to a frustrated rant with comforting words? Connor was... perfect. Connor cared. Even when he didn't know he was cared about in return.

"If you don't stay, I'll be forced to hunt you down and drag you back in shackles," Zephyr added, in case it helped. None of that silly sentimental drivel was worth sharing.

Connor chuckled. Then he laughed. "Okay, okay! I'll talk to my advisor and see what I can do about rescheduling my classes. I'll do my best, I promise. But if it doesn't work out..."

"Yes?"

"You have to promise not to hurt me. Okay?" He grinned his wide, perfect-teeth grin.

"You drive a hard bargain, kid," Zephyr replied. "Okay, I promise."

"Cool!" Connor giggled and they shook hands on it. "So, what's next on the agenda?"

Zephyr didn't really want to deal with agendas. What with the pre-holiday stress (Marsh going with him to Portia's house and the uncertainty that Reg was up to another family occasion so soon after the Thanksgiving disaster weighed heavily on his mind) and the general mood of anticipation and distraction that everyone else was in, work seemed impossible.

"I have a task for you," he finally said. "Go into the break room and get the red box on the top of the closet. You're going to help me learn to beat Reg at chess."

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