Work Text:
Leonard frowns at the replicator. Now, he doesn’t know everything about them, but he’s usually able to get it give him the food he wants.
He checks the settings again, but when his food appears, there’s a damn slice of bread. Fluffy, leaven, white bread. Leonard scowls, and picks the plate up to set it next to the three other plates of bread. He’s not going to gorge on bread a day before Pesach starts. It’ll make the entire holiday harder.
“How difficult can it be for a computer to make matzah?” he mutters to himself. He’d never had trouble getting kosher food at the Academy, even during Pesach. Leonard supposes there are more Jews at the Academy than on the Enterprise. He knows that Chekov is Jewish, but when Leonard asked him about keeping kosher, Chekov admitted he did not. Which is fine, but it means Chekov doesn’t know how to get matzah either.
Jim is Jewish but of course he’s allergic to matzah. If Leonard hadn’t seen the allergy himself, he wouldn’t have believed it. Lucky break, being allergic to matzah.
He leaves the plates of bread next to the replicator, hoping someone will come along and eat them. He hates wasting food, but he certainly won’t eat it.
Leonard only wants enough matzah for his first night seder, but Starfleet has other plans.
-
Searching the database of the Talmud and response and the thousands and thousands of years of commentary isn’t getting him anywhere. One just can’t have a seder without matzah. It’s not right, dammit.
Well. Maybe he can still get Chekov to give the replicator a try. He’s supposed to be a genius, after all.
His door bell chimes and he pushes himself away from his desk. When he lets the door open, Spock is standing there, somewhat awkwardly. There’s a small package In one of his hands.
Leonard steps back to let him in. They’re still at the beginning of their mission, and Leonard isn’t always sure what to say to him that isn’t an argument.
“I heard you were having difficulty with the replicator,” Spock says simply as he enters the room. “I thought perhaps I could help.”
It’s beautifully wrapped in blue paper. Leonard goes to his desk, feeling somewhat dazed. He hadn’t asked anyone other than Chekov about the replicator.
When he opens the paper, there’s a stack of perfectly shaped matzah inside.
Leonard whirls around in his chair. “How did you get this?” he demands.
Spock quirks an eyebrow. “I simply used the replicator, doctor.”
“Bullshit,” he says, standing up. “I’ve spent days trying to get the replicator to make matzah, and every time it gave me plain bread.”
“Besides,” he continues. “You aren’t Jewish. How do you know this is even correct?”
Spock’s posture deflates slightly before settling back into that rod straight Vulcan posture. “You are aware my mother was human.”
“Well of course I know,” Leonard says, but there’s no vitriol in his voice. The death of Spock’s mother is delicate, and outside of mental health reviews, they’ve never discussed it.
“Although earth religions are perhaps less common now, my mother was a Jew.”
There’s a heavy pause in the room. Leonard isn’t sure what he can say to make it dissipate.
“I am certain you are aware of matrilineality in Judaism,” Spock says. “Despite having a Vulcan father, I am still a Jew in the strictest definition.”
Leonard rubs at his forehead. He hates identity policing among Jews, and here he is, making an ass out of himself. “Geez, Spock, I didn’t know.”
“Perhaps we could sit?” Spock asks, gesturing to the small table. For once it isn’t covered in papers, because Leonard takes Pesach cleaning as seriously as one can. His mother had impressed the importance of that on him.
“I thought this was my room,” he grumbles, but Leonard takes a seat anyway.
Spock sits primly across from him, and Leonard waits for him to continue. He’s conscious that he tends to talk over Spock.
“My mother showed me how to program the replicator for matzah when I was very young.”
“Yeah, I reckon it was difficult to get kosher food on Vulcan.” Leonard finds it even harder to imagine following an earth religion on Vulcan.
There’s that damn eyebrow quirk again and this time it’s almost endearing. “As I am a vegetarian, this is less of a problem for me than it is for omnivores.
That’s the truth. Many of the kids in his Hebrew school had been vegetarians because it made off earth travel much easier. “Replicated meat is kosher,” he says. It had been a point of controversy in the early days of space travel, but it was now accepted as pareve.
“Say, Spock, do you have plans for a Seder?” Leonard feels silly as he asks. He doubts there’s another seder being held on the Enterprise.
“I do not,” Spock says.
Leonard guesses he actually has to come out and say it. It’s a mitzvah, dammit, but he still feels awkward. “I’m having one for the first night, if you’d like to come.”
“I would be honored, doctor.”
-
“Where in the hell did you get Manischewitz, Bones?” Jim is holding the bottle like it’s an alien relic they stole from a non-federation planet.
“And why?” Chekov adds. “We could have had synthetol.”
Leonard reaches across the table and snatches the bottle from Jim’s hands. “My mom sent it to me, okay? It isn’t Pesach without Manischewitz.”
Chekov grimaces, and Leonard can almost hear the comment about Russia when the door opens.
Spock enters the room carrying a plate stacked with matzah.
“Oh boy,” Chekov says. “Matzah.”
“Thank you, Spock,” Leonard says. He takes the plate that Spock extends to him and places it neatly in the middle of the table. “I’ve already used the rest for matzah ball soup.”
“You are quite welcome, doctor. I presume the soup is vegetarian?”
“Wait, vegetarian matzah ball soup?” Jim gasps exaggeratedly. “Bones told me that vegetarian soup is garbage.”
“Yeah, well,” Leonard says, looking away from the table. “A man can change his mind.”
He almost misses the small smile on Spock’s face as he turns back to pass out the family haggadot.
-
It was successful for a Seder on a spaceship, he thinks. They couldn’t exactly leave a door to the ship open for Elijah, but as a compromise they turn a transporter pad on briefly and then open the doors to Leonard’s quarters.
“Pesach in space,” he says to Spock, who is the only one left sitting at the table. What would his grandmother think?
“Surely, it was sufficient,” Spock says.
Quicker than the speed of light, Dayenu starts blaring in his head. “Was that a joke?” Leonard asks in disbelief.
Spock’s lip quirks in what Leonard must assume is full-fledged laughter for a Vulcan.
-
Leonard doesn’t try to celebrate Shabbat every week. Sometimes it feels too complicated to try to match a calendar to whatever star system they’re in. (t’s a weak excuse—he knows the technology is available but it gets lonely too, not having a full synagogue to pray with.)
But now, when Pesach is over, it’s easy to replicate a loaf of challah, some chocolate, and some wine. He shows up at Spock’s quarters an hour after their shift ends. He’s particularly interested to continue their debate on the finer points of observance in space. And there’s something a damn bit lively about Spock when he talks about facing towards Jerusalem in a different galaxy.
And if he somehow forgets to invite Jim and Chekov, because he’s a little too distracted by the glimmer in Spock’s eyes when they argue Talmud, well. There’s always next Shabbat.