Chapter Text
The atmosphere in Rec Room A aboard the Enterprise was festive and bright as a flurry of activity took place inside. Lt. Uhura stood on a stepladder, humming Silent Night as she carefully adjusted a sprig of mistletoe above a doorway. Her voice, clear and beautiful, filled the room, bringing a touch of holiday magic to the sterile starship walls. Charlene Masters, perched on her own step stool nearby, was stringing garlands along the bulkheads, her nimble fingers expertly placing the decorations just so.
Chekov and Sulu worked together near the center of the room, arguing about the placement of a small but brightly lit Pinetree donated from the ship's arboretum. Chekov insisted it needed to be closer to the viewport to "capture the natural starlight." Sulu rolled his eyes and continued to adjust the ornaments on the branches. He preferred the center of the room where everyone could appreciate his decorating talents.
“Nyota,” Charlene called from her perch, her voice teasing, “if you keep singing like that, we’re going to attract a crowd. The party doesn't start until tomorrow night.”
“So what? Let them come on in and give us a hand. Besides, what’s Christmas without a few carols? And of course this mistletoe--” she leaned out precariously to study its position, “it needs to be just perfect.”
At that moment, the doors swished open, and Spock entered the room. He paused just inside the doorway, his sharp eyes immediately locking on his wife's position. Standing atop the ladder, leaning forward slightly, and humming cheerfully, Uhura looked radiant. She also, to Spock’s logical mind, looked entirely too unsafe.
In three swift strides, he crossed the room and without uttering a word, he placed his hands firmly around her waist and lifted her off the stool as if she weighed nothing. Uhura let out a surprised squeal that turned into delighted laughter as Spock set her securely on the ground. Her feet barely touched the floor before she wrapped her arms around his neck planting a kiss on his lips. They were under the mistletoe after all.
"Lt. Uhura," Spock said after clearing his throat. "That was highly ill-advised."
“Oh Spock!” she said with a giggle. “I wasn’t going to fall.”
“Your position was inherently unstable,” Spock replied, his tone crisp but his hands lingering protectively on her arms. “Engaging in such activities while carrying our child is illogical.”
Uhura's dark eyes sparkled with mischievous joy. She leaned in and pressed another chaste kiss to his chin. “Adun, I’m barely even pregnant,” she said softly, her voice filled with affection. “And I would never do anything to risk myself or our baby. You know that.”
Spock’s gaze softened—almost imperceptibly, but enough for Uhura to notice. “Nevertheless,” he said looking up at the rest of the room's occupants, “I would prefer you refrained from standing on ladders.”
Across the room, Sulu raised his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t look at me like that, Mr. Spock. This was her idea. She said Chekov and I couldn’t hang the mistletoe in just the right place to ensure maximum kissing potential.”
Chekov snorted, struggling to keep a straight face as Spock turned his disapproving stare toward them.
Charlene, still balancing on her stepstool, glanced over and shrugged. “Don’t look at me either. You ought to know by now that she doesn't listen to me either.”
Uhura pouted, crossing her arms. “I’m pregnant, not paralyzed. I know my limits. And besides, I said I’d be careful.”
“I do not doubt your caution, Nyota,” Spock said, his voice gentler now. “But I find myself… illogical in this matter.”
Uhura’s pout softened into a smile. “Well, I guess we can’t argue with that logic, can we?”
Before anyone could say more, the doors swished open again, and Captain Kirk entered the room. He stopped abruptly, his eyes sweeping over the festive chaos—the garlands, the tree, the soft holiday music playing over a speaker. His expression tightened, and without a word, he spun on his heel and left as quickly as he’d come.
The room fell silent as their smiles faded and the joyful atmosphere dimmed slightly. Uhura exchanged a look with Spock, her brow furrowing with concern. “He’s been like that all day,” she said.
The others in the room nodded in agreement and Chekov added, "The Keptain is not himself."
Spock nodded. “He has been unusually grim but he carries the weight of the recent mission heavily.”
“You should go to him,” Uhura urged, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “He needs his friends now more than ever.”
Spock hesitated, glancing at her. “Are you certain you will be fine here?”
Uhura grinned, gesturing to the room. “I’ve got Charlene, Sulu, and Chekov to keep an eye on me. Don’t I?” She looked pointedly at her friends.
“Absolutely,” Sulu said, stepping forward with a mock salute. “We won’t let her climb anything, Mr. Spock. You have my word.”
Chekov chimed in, grinning. “We’ll keep her safe, sir.”
Charlene raised her hands in surrender. “No more ladders. I promise.”
Spock studied each of them for a moment, his Vulcan mind weighing their sincerity. Finally, he turned back to Uhura. “Very well. If you require anything—”
“I’ll call you,” Uhura interrupted, standing on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Now go. The captain needs you more than I do.”
"That has yet to be determined, but I will go to him." Spock inclined his head and strode purposefully out the door. Behind him, the room slowly returned to its festive hum, but a shadow of concern lingered.
*/*/*
Commander Spock caught up to Jim and fell into step beside him. The Spock's hands were clasped neatly behind his back, his expression as serene and unreadable as always as he flanked his best friend.
“Captain,” Spock began in his calm baritone. “I have observed a disturbing pattern in your recent behavior.”
Kirk glanced at him, irritation flashing in his hazel eyes. “A disturbing pattern?”
“Affirmative. You have been uncharacteristically… terse, particularly in response to the holiday greetings exchanged by the crew. And you have barely spoken to anyone except to give orders.”
Kirk exhaled sharply. “Is there a point to this conversation, Mr. Spock? I’m on my way to the bridge.”
“There is.” Spock tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes keenly probing his friend's profile. “Lieutenant Uhura and I have not received confirmation of your attendance at our Christmas Eve gathering.”
Kirk’s pace faltered for half a step before he recovered. “Christmas, huh? Didn’t think you’d be one for all this illogical holiday hogwash.”
Spock arched a brow, an almost imperceptible glimmer of pride in his tone. “While it is true that Vulcans traditionally do not engage in celebrations of this nature, my wife finds significance in the holiday. And as you are aware, I am also half-human. I have a certain appreciation for Earth customs as well.”
Kirk’s lips twitched in what might have been a smirk, but it vanished before it fully formed. “I suppose that’s logical.”
“Quite,” Spock replied. “Furthermore, Vulcan culture includes its festivals, some of which honor seasonal changes and cycles of harvest. Acknowledging tradition is not inherently illogical.”
“Yes, well,” Kirk said, his tone dismissive, “I’ll try and make an effort to drop by.”
Spock stopped walking, his hands still behind his back. “I see. Very well, Captain. However, I must say that your response lacks commitment.”
Kirk waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “I’ve got a ship to run, Spock. We’ll see.”
Spock stood motionless as Kirk continued down the corridor, his sharply defined features betraying only the faintest flicker of concern. When the captain was out of sight, Spock turned and walked away, his thoughts heavier than usual.
He made his way to the ship's infirmary. Bones was yet another friend who had yet to confirm his attendance at the holiday party.
The doctor was in his office, his expression was preoccupied with looking at a viewscreen. Spock noticed him taking notes as he studied a bacteria specimen.
"Dr. Mccoy, may I speak to you for a moment?" Spock asked interrupting the doctor's concentration.
Bones huffed irrationally but shut off the display and turned to Spock giving him his full attention.
"Are you working on something urgent?" Spock asked.
"No, just getting in a little research while it's quiet. The last of my patients from the mission have been discharged. I've sent all the reports up the chain to Starfleet command and I finally have a little time to myself."
Spock nodded in understanding. "I would like to personally extend an invitation to the christmas eve party my wife is hosting tomorrow night."
Bones raised his brows and grinned. "Your wife huh? I still cannot believe you have a wife Spock and a pregnant one at that." Mccoy shook his head. "I guess some guys have all the luck."
"I suppose some would consider my current circumstances the result of random chance but I do not."
"Oh no?" Mccoy asked genuinely curious.
"No. Nyota and I are an extremely logical pairing."
"Oh, how do you figure?" Bones asked.
"Nyota and I share many of the same beliefs and values. We bonded over our appreciation of music, art, literature, and the pursuit of exploring the galaxy."
"Bullshit!" Mccoy stated. "Spock, can't you for once just admit you thought Uhura was cute and pursued her in your own logical but baffling way?"
"No," Spock said.
"No!?" Mccoy couldn't believe his ears.
"I will, however, admit that I had great admiration for Nyota from our very first meeting. And I will also admit that I did harbor intentions toward pursuing a romantic relationship with her."
"Isn't that what I just said?" McCoy asked.
"No," Spock said stubbornly.
Mccoy laughed. "Whatever Spock. I'll drop by your party if only to annoy you. And of course to see your beautiful wife."
"It will not annoy me. Nyota and I will be very pleased to have you. My wife wants everyone she cares about there, including the captain."
"Jim?"
"Yes, doctor that is the other reason I've come to you. Nyota is worried about Jim. Have you observed how out of character he has been lately?"
"Well. now that you mention it. I haven't seen much of Jim these past few days. He wanted to deliver the notice of condolences to the fallen crewmen's family with me
and then I joined him in the debriefing with Starfleet brass, but other than that I haven't seen hide nor hair of him."
"Is that so? For your information, the captain has been walking the decks with a stern expression and whenever someone wishes him holiday greetings he scowls or grumbles."
"Well, you know Jim. He takes each and every loss of a crewman personally."
"I know, but he also takes these things in stride. He reflects, and then it's on to the next mission. However, he doesn't seem to be himself this time. And you know how obstinate the captain can be. If something is bothering him, he will keep it to himself until it affects everyone around him."
"Yeah," Bones said. "But I also know if he doesn't want to talk about it, he won't. We just have to wait him out."
"Normally I would agree but Nyota is very concerned."
"I'm sure she is. That wife of yours has a heart of gold. But I have a hunch, Spock. It's not just Nyota who's worried about Jim, is it?"
"I'll leave that for you to work out doctor," Spock said before leaving the office.
Later that evening, Spock entered his quarters to find Uhura adjusting the decorations on a small tabletop tree. The soft glow of the lights reflected in her dark eyes as she turned to greet him.
“Back already?” she asked with a warm smile. “I thought you were talking with the captain.”
Spock hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I did speak with Jim, but our conversation was quite brief. I invited him to our gathering tomorrow evening but it does not seem likely he will attend.”
Uhura frowned slightly, picking up on the undertone in his voice. “Let me guess. He grumbled, made some vague excuse, and rushed off?”
“Your assessment is accurate,” Spock admitted. “Jim’s demeanor has been… increasingly grim as the holiday approaches.”
Uhura crossed her arms, her expression concerned. “Everyone's noticed. He barely acknowledges anyone, and when he does, he's all business or it’s like he’s in another world. That’s not like him. Even after a rough mission he usually snaps out of it quicker than this.”
Spock stepped closer, his hands now at his sides. “I have been considering the possible causes. Jim has faced great personal losses during this ship's mission. He doesn't mingle with the crew as much as he used to for fear of being accused of favoritism or fraternization. He is becoming increasingly isolated. And since our marriage and the announcement of our pregnancy, he has been distant from me as well. I suspect he feels lonely. It is logical to assume that this time of year exacerbates such feelings of grief and loss.”
Uhura reached out and touched his arm gently. “That’s why we have to try, Spock. He’s our friend. He should know we would never abandon him. If anyone can help him find some joy in all this chaos, it’s us.”
Spock searched her eyes for a moment, and then he wrapped his arms around her in a quiet embrace. “Your compassion is commendable, Nyota. I will support your efforts.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “That’s all I ask. I know you care for Jim as a brother. We just have to find a way to show him how much we love him. ”
Spock held his wife, his gaze lingering on the small tree. The faint flicker of worry that had settled in his chest did not abate, even as Uhura hummed contentedly in his embrace.