Chapter Text
“Spock!” the Captain exclaimed, bursting into his First Officer’s quarters with barely more than an announcement, not even waiting for Spock to grant him entry. Spock looked up from where he was kneeling on the floor, incense burning next to his meditation mat.
“Captain, may I enquire as to your intrusion upon my meditation? I assure you, I would have been available for discussion if you had only –"
“Come on, Spock, I’ve got big news,” the Captain interrupted, a wide grin stretching across his face. Spock felt illogically pleased at the Captain’s obvious happiness, and rapidly repressed the emotion. Pleasure was unbecoming of a Vulcan.
Spock extinguished the incense and stood, rolling up his meditation mat and storing the materials for later, when he would again attempt to clear his mind. It had been difficult for Spock to obtain the deepest level of Vulcan meditation in recent weeks, as his thoughts had been constantly straying back to the man standing in front of him. Jim was an ever-present distraction to his mind, a fact which troubled Spock, but one that he chose not to examine too closely.
“How may I assist you, Captain?”
“Spock,” the Captain began again, piercing blue eyes lighting up with something of a manic fire, “I got us shore leave. On Terra. For Christmas.”
Spock merely stared at the Captain, unsure of how to properly respond to his enthusiasm. Spock had never celebrated Christmas as a child, as his father had wanted to raise him in traditional Vulcan fashion; his mother’s cultural celebrations, while important to her, were kept to a minimum in Spock’s home.
Hoping that it was an appropriate response, Spock raised one eyebrow and said, “I am gratified that the Enterprise has found a suitable planet for shore leave over the Terran holiday season. I trust you will be beaming down at your earliest convenience?”
The Captain crossed over to Spock’s desk chair and sat down heavily. “Does that mean you’re not planning on going, then?” he asked, running a hand through his hair, which somehow still shone like Terran wheat in the dim light of Spock’s quarters. His eyes betrayed an emotion Spock could not discern, but he suspected it was one of disappointment, judging by the crestfallen expression on his Captain’s face.
“It is illogical for me to be planetside for holidays which I do not celebrate, Captain.”
“It’s Jim, Spock, we aren’t on duty,” the Captain corrected, leaning back in Spock’s chair and surveying him over his folded hands. If Spock’s gaze lingered just a second too long on the smooth lines of Jim’s hands, he could not be blamed.
“Jim. I shall remain here with the skeleton crew over the Terran holiday season. There are several experiments that must be run during that time, particularly concerning the flora we discovered on Aurelius IV-"
Jim waved his hand to cut him off, and Spock shut his mouth with an audible snap. “I understand, yeah, yeah. Experiments. Science stuff. It’s just, the entire bridge crew is going to be headed planetside, and I was planning on inviting everyone to my place on Christmas Eve, and we could have a proper Christmas party, maybe cook dinner together on Christmas day. You know, a way to get together with the whole gang, celebrate the season and all. We’ve completed an entire year of our mission, Spock, and none of us have died yet – don’t you think that deserves a bit of a celebration?”
Spock does not correct Jim, does not remind him of the incident with Khan, because he knows Jim remembers, even if he chooses to make light of the situation.
“Indeed, Captain, we are 1 year, 3 months and seven Terran days into our mission, and none of the bridge crew has been deceased within that time.”
Jim beamed at him, absently playing with the hem on his shirt. “Anyways,” he continued, validated, “I was sorta hoping you might choose to come down with the rest of us. Celebrate, and all.”
“Captain-"
“Jim, Spock, it’s Jim.”
“Jim, it would be illogical of me to spend a week on Terra alone simply for the purpose of celebrating Christmas day with the senior staff. If you desire, I will attempt to find time to attend Christmas dinner.”
“Spock, you’re not getting it,” Jim said, standing and beginning to pace, a practice Spock observed with increasing frequency when he was anxious about something. Spock could not fathom why his Captain was experiencing these emotions, and felt an illogical need to comfort him, to soothe his agitation. Instead, Spock merely folded his hands behind his back in a perfect parade rest position, and prepared himself for whatever Jim was about to say.
“Look, I wasn’t just inviting you to Christmas at my place. I was hoping maybe you would be up for staying with me, you know, for the week. I’ll be on my own, and since you don’t have any family on Terra anymore, I figured maybe you’d like to come back to Riverside with me. My old home’s there, but it’s – well, I don’t have the best memories of the place, and going back there alone would be pretty tough, and I was sort of hoping for some company, to, you know, maybe brighten it up a bit. I, I mean, I understand-“
“Jim,” Spock interrupted this time, cutting off his Captain’s ramblings. “If you wish, I shall accompany you to Riverside.”
Jim paused his pacing in front of Spock’s desk. “Are you sure you’re saying that because you actually want to come, or do you feel like you have some kind of obligation to accompany me as my First Officer, to make sure I stay out of trouble?”
Spock considered Jim’s question, and found that, for once, he truly did wish to go with Jim – as a friend, not merely as a First Officer. “Negative, Jim. While I regret the time that will certainly be lost on my experiments in the lab, your company is infinitely preferable.”
Jim’s jaw dropped open 1.76 centimeters at Spock’s statement, and Spock raised one eyebrow at Jim’s apparent shock.
His Captain seemed to realize that his mouth was hanging open, and his cheeks flushed red as he closed it and ran one hand distractedly through his hair again. It was now thoroughly mussed, even more so than the Captain usually preferred, and Spock wondered briefly if he should say something before deciding that this was neither the place nor the time.
“Right, then,” Jim stammered, recovering quickly. “Um, well, want to help me set up some duty rosters after shift today? Maybe if we finish early we can play a game of chess?”
Spock neglected to mention that he had already formed duty rosters with this precise shore leave outcome in mind; the Captain had been hinting for several weeks that he was attempting to get shore leave on Terra, and very rarely does Jim not get what he desires when it comes to favors. Being Starfleet’s youngest, brightest, most aesthetically pleasing Captain did have its advantages; in addition, the public had not yet forgotten how Jim risked his life to save others during the Narada and Khan incidents. Spock felt a stab in his lower right abdomen as he recalled a recent mission to a Federation planet – a standard, routine mission, but the Captain practically had the alien life hanging on his arms: he, and his fame, were highly desirable. Spock suppressed the painful throb in his side at the thought, and returned his attention to his Captain, who was staring at him with an expectant look.
“Certainly, Captain. That would be most agreeable. If you will excuse me, I have several experiments running in the labs that require my urgent attention.”
“Of course, Spock,” the Captain said as he followed Spock out of his quarters. As Spock began to walk in the direction of the turbolift, he heard the Captain call out behind him, “Oh, and it’s Jim! How many times do I have to remind you?”
Spock did not reply, but allowed himself a small quirk of his lips as he entered the turbolift and entered the command for the science labs. He was not entirely sure what had just transpired between himself and the Captain, only that these would certainly be the most interesting holidays he had ever celebrated.
The weather, of course, would be quite cold in Iowa, Spock mused as he walked down the long, brightly lit hallways of the Enterprise towards the sanctum of the labs. He would have to consider that while packing for the trip. A few passing ensigns tossed him murmured “Commanders,” and he responded with curt nods, still focused entirely on Jim.
Why Spock? Why would Jim invite Spock to spend time with him at his house in Riverside? Surely McCoy, Jim’s oldest friend and college roommate, would have been a more logical option. Still, despite the oddity of the situation, Spock felt himself looking forward to the upcoming trip to Terra. He had only seen snow four times in his life, and he was aware that Iowa was generally cold during this time of the Terran seasonal cycle, perhaps lending itself to frozen forms of precipitation. He wondered if the Captain would obtain a gift for him, and if he should give the Captain a gift in return – was it not customary Terran tradition to give gifts on this particular holiday? He was not sure – he had never celebrated Christmas while at the Academy, and Nyota had respected his cultural boundaries too greatly to force him into the festivities. What type of gift would be appropriate? Spock deemed it necessary to ask Nyota later, so as to gain her advice on the matter.
Ever since he and Nyota had terminated their romantic relationship, their interactions had returned to a more comfortable state. Spock had not been able to give Nyota the emotional support she required, and because of this, she suffered. After the incident with Khan, Nyota had finally “called it quits” – she had ended their courtship, her only explanation being, “Oh, Spock. You still don’t see it, do you? Someday, Spock, when you get it, you’ll thank me.” She had kissed him on the cheek and departed his quarters. Spock had known it illogical to mourn the loss of a failed courtship, especially when he agreed with her judgment of the relationship: something had been restraining him, holding him back from committing completely to Nyota. Their sexual congress had not been lacking in pleasure, but he still found himself unable to meld with her, an intimate Vulcan act between partners demonstrating an extreme trust in the other party and deep affection on both ends. Although Nyota had been willing, he had refrained, the action feeling wrong somehow, like he was betraying someone – although the feeling was, of course, utterly absurd. T’Pring, his bondmate, had perished with Vulcan; although he had mended the severed bond to the best of his ability, there was still a gaping hole in his mind where hers had been, a situation he greatly desired to remedy.
As Spock entered the labs, his crew of scientists greeted him and quickly busied themselves with work. Spock crossed over to an experiment he had begun two ship’s nights before, and immersed himself in the scientific process. It would do no good to think of his Captain – Jim would only prove a distraction to his mind. Still, as he carefully plucked flowers from one of Sulu’s shrubs that the helmsman had brought back from Aurelius IV, he could not help but be reminded of the blue of Jim’s eyes, bright with excitement, the color of a Risian ocean.