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Christmas wasn’t celebrated by every life form aboard the USS Enterprise, due to the differing life forms and cultural experiences. However, over the last 3 years of their expedition, they had stumbled upon a series of traditions.
In the emptiness and loneliness of space, every tradition, no matter the importance or occasion, would be celebrated.
It was the crew’s excuse to party, not that he believed the Captain truly minded.
Risa’s Lohlunat Festival during the summer solstice was the most celebrated of occasions. The Betazoid Festival of Thankfulness had been banned after its first attempt, the events never to be repeated or discussed. The Bajoran Gratitude Festival had been slightly altered but largely stuck true to its rituals.
Thankfully, not many had a desire to participate in the Vulcan festivities of Rumarie, least of all Spock. They were more than happy with the somber celebration of Kal Rekk in honour of their First Officer.
Overall, Christmas was a well received time of celebration, despite the illogical adornment of antlers and oddly shaped hats.
“You give them a funny look every year, Mr. Spock. It has yet to change.” The captain was reclined against his chair in the rec room, halfway through dinner but only lightly peckish now, a pleasant grin upon his lips.
“As you are well aware, Captain, Vulcans do not have ‘funny looks’. If they did, however, it would be a well-reasoned time to give them.” Mr. Spock continued his dinner at his usual and reasonable pace.
“Feeling snappy this season?” Jim chortled in response, reading his friend’s response well.
“Vulcans do not ‘feel’ snappy.”
“What about Spock’s?” There was no response, which Kirk responded to as though it were a response in and of itself nonetheless. ”Well argued, Mr. Spock.”
“My thoughts regarding the illogical nature of the seasonal celebration are not something I will readily express to the crew-“
-“unlike Christmas’s past?” The captain was quick to intercept, Spock lightly responding with a scolding eyebrow.
“As opposed to to the previous years celebrations. I have come to understand that humans are an illogical species and their celebrations reflect this.”
“Since we’ve reached this understanding, I then have a proposal for you, should you feel up to the challenge.” Kirk was no longer reclining in his chair, but leant forward, elbows perched on the table with fingers laced, his chin against his fingers.
“A challenge, Captain?” The Captain was prone to fits of illogic and, as such, was quick to inspire in those surrounding him. This was the reason Spock presented when he meditated on his response to the ‘bet’ made by his Captain.
His acquiescence to the ‘bet’ had nothing to do with the warmth of his Captain’s grin, nor the piercing blue of his eyes trained upon Spock.
He would later determine through a light healing trance, that his heart was in no danger; but he had yet to determine why his heart had decided to perform irregularly under the watchful gaze of his commanding officer.
From there, despite his previous experience of humans during the holiday seasons, he began his research. The extensive files of information noted throughout human history gave detailed, though contradictory information. The best place to begin, he found, was with the ship’s own celebratory festivities.
2 days later, this is where he was found, in the recreation room of the Enterprise.
It was odd, to know when the Captain had arrived, though not from sight, but from the prickling of skin alerting him to the intense gaze of another.
It could be no other individual than him. There was no explanation for how he knew.
Spock’s eyes remained closed as he allowed himself to remain focused on the music, the notes thrumming with life beneath the pads of his fingers.
The captain had yet to announce himself, so as the music slowed, he commented on the intrusion himself.
“Vulcans generally do not partake in singing, however I am accomplished on the Vulcan Lyre and, as such, have offered my skills to the Yuletide Choir during their Christmas service.”
He had still yet to open his eyes as he played the final notes from the lyre. The captains usually quick witted response did not come, instead, after a moment, “I didn’t realise you played, Mr Spock.”
“It would be fair assumption that I am not musically inclined. It is not something I have spoken of.” It was at this moment Spock finally raised his eyes.
“I wouldn’t say I assumed that you didn’t play, only that I had yet to realise…” his voice softened considerably, an impressive feat considering his current tone, ”You play wonderfully.”
“I am well studied on this instrument, if not lacking in regular practice. I find that the musical portion of this season has allowed for a ‘rekindling’ of my previous skill.”
“I’m glad the season’s festivities are being used to your advantage then, Mr Spock.” His quick wit and warm smirk returned, but something in his gaze had Spock fighting the blushing green from appearing at the points of his ears.
The warmth his chest felt under the gaze of the Captain was not the reason he continued with the challenge. It wasn’t to experience that warm smile directed towards him, but rather to continue experiencing the value of human celebrations, as intended by the original challenge.
So, by evening the next day, he had already found a different facet of the human season to experience.
“I’m not sure I know how to respond to this, Mr Spock.”
The Captain’s arrival hadn’t been announced, nor had he heard his approach, despite Spock remaining alert for any indication of his arrival.
“I believe that beginning with the usual greeting of, customarily, Merry Christmas, would suffice.”
Spock was sure he did not need his Vulcan hearing in order to hear the sound of the Captain’s blinks.
“You just need little bells on your shoes, and you’re the perfect picture of a Christmas Elf, Mr. Spock.”
“Despite your assurance you didn’t have a response, I see that it did not require long to formulate one.”
“And I see that you have taken to celebrating Christmas in a very traditional and… open manner.”
“Aside from my apparent failure to account for ‘bells on my shoes’, I have attempted to dress in the styling of an Earth Christmas Elf. I was informed by the good Doctor of its necessity.”
The Captain made a sputtering noise, lightly sounding as though he were about to begin choking. He made no further noise however, so Spock only gave him a once over and made a mental note to check the Captain’s readings at a later point.
“Though I was unsure of his intentions to provide assistance in this challenge, further research proved his suggestion to be true.”
“Further research, Mr. Spock?”
It was at this moment that the ‘good Doctor’ had made his appearance, now dressed from head to toe in a bright red jolly suit; with hat and beard to match. At the sound of the Captain’s laughter, the doctor slowly had the cheeks to match his costume as well. He was only missing the corresponding laugh, however the Captain’s experience in this matter far superseded the doctor’s.
“Dammit Jim, I’m a Doctor, not Santa Claus!”
“Doesn’t look that way to me, St. Nick!” The following violence was not something Spock had any desire to intrude upon, quite content for the men to wear themselves out.
Though his attention had shifted quickly from Spock to the Doctor, the flushing of his own cheeks remained as recalled the appraisal from his captain’s eyes on his initial entry.
It was then he knew that there was a tradition that he had to ensure was kept in the season’s calendar of events.
On their return from the youth’s education established aboard the ship, having listened to their requested gifts on the eve of the Christmas Day, Spock’s marked pathway towards their adjoined rooms was cut short early. He paused, choosing to collect his words before turning towards the captain gently.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Spock? Cat got your tongue?” Spock was silent until Jim had come close enough for his customary clap to the shoulder.
“I am to understand that this plant plays a part in the Yuletide festivities. Does it not, Captain?” Spock made a light gesture to highlight the plant above him.
Full of confidence, the Captain glanced above, however cut the glance short as a deep pink spread over his ears, dusting his cheeks.
“Well, yes,” the Captain cleared his throat, “It does play a certain part. But no worries, Mr. Spock. I can make an exception pertaining to your involvement.”
“I thought you stipulated that I must join in every festivity.”
“That was part of the conditions, but since this contains an involvement of a, uh,” the words appeared difficult for him to pronounce, “an intimate nature, I am happy granting cultural… exceptions.”
“Yes, Captain. I have come across the ‘kiss under the mistletoe’ tradition in my readings. Would it not be ‘bad luck’ to refuse?”
“I thought that Vulcans didn’t believe in bad luck.”
“Vulcans do not.” The Captain’s eyes flickered downwards, their closeness emphasising the drift of his eyes away from Spock’s own.
“What about Spock’s?” He made no response to the question, and the Captain did not need to receive one. Spock, who was not illogically holding his breath, lightly held his fingers up to the captain who’s breath also appeared to be caught in his throat.
It was only moments before the Captain’s fingers lightly brushed his own.
“Captain, you appear to be unusually flushed. Do we need to contact Doctor McCoy?”
“I’ll be fine, right after I find out who put up this goddamn plant.”
“That would be me, Captain.“ He responded with a slight tilt of your head. The comment seemed to stall the Captain, who had yet to remove his fingers from his own.
“Y-you?” Jim sputtered out.
“I assumed by your ‘challenge’ that you wanted me to experience the ‘joy of Christmas’. Did that not include this hanging bundle of Viscum Album?”
“How did you get ‘make out with your Captain under the Mistletoe’ from ‘Christmas Joy’?!” His entire face had become flushed, a shining red from the tips of his ears and disappearing beneath the neck of his uniform. Yet, he had still yet to remove his fingers from the ozh’esta.
“Sir, we have yet to make out in any regard. If you would like to however, you need only say the word.”