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"How do you celebrate the holidays this time of year?" Pike was asking everyone on the ship.
"Pretty traditionally," Christine replied thoughtfully. "Family and friends, food and gifts."
"What is there to celebrate?" La'An turned away before Chris could do more than open his mouth to challenge her question.
"Calling the family, so I can watch my sons open their presents." There was a sadness in Sam's expression, despite his smile.
"Every year. Pfft." Chris supposed one year was a short time for a Lanthanite. Although Pelia then leaned a little closer to say, "But I like a good party."
"It's a time of silence and meditation," Spock said. Chris gave him a skeptical look - most Vulcan celebrations didn't seem to involve much actual celebrating, as far as he could tell. But Spock merely stared back and he was always going to win a staring contest.
"It feels like it's more something for the children, and…" Joseph shrugged. Given what had happened with his daughter Chris let that one go.
"We go to midnight mass and we eat." Erica started naming dishes faster than Chris could note them on his PADD. He was never going to have time to make all of those.
"I haven't celebrated since the shuttle accident." Nyota shrugged. "It hasn't felt the same since."
With Una he added a follow-up. "You can finally celebrate some Illyrian traditions in the open."
Una narrowed her eyes. "Exactly how many traditions are you planning on celebrating?"
He checked his PADD. "Nineteen . But I've only asked two-thirds of the crew so far." Asking everyone in person wasn't the most efficient way of going about it, but he felt that the personal touch made all the difference. Plus he was enjoying getting to know more about the crew.
"And how many celebrations are you planning?" she asked cautiously.
"Not every holiday involves a celebration." Most of them did, but they could still observe those that didn't. Although there were too many on the same days to celebrate everything on the correct day. "But we need to celebrate everything."
She sighed. "Chris, you can't have nineteen parties."
"I can." He raised his chin, feeling more determined now.
She stared at him for a moment. "It's going to be a disaster."
"It'll be fine," he promised, not at all worried.
It wasn't a disaster yet. But Chris was already tired and they hadn't even started the run of holiday celebrations yet. It had taken a considerable amount of planning already and he had a long list of foods to cook: many holidays centered around food, and even those that didn't often included it.
Yet he couldn't start on most of the cooking because there wasn't enough space to store it all. Next time the Enterprise was in for repairs he would ask for more freezers. He'd tried asking Joseph about using the morgue, but the way he'd said "Absolutely not" told Chris he wasn't going to be able to get Joseph to change his mind.
When Una entered the ready room he felt like he was buried in PADDs. They were scattered all over his desk, as he cross-referenced everything and worried that he'd forgotten something.
"Chris."
It took him a moment to shift his focus, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the middle distance. She was already sitting in the chair opposite. Her expression was sympathetic, but he knew her well enough not to take that as a good sign.
"Productivity is down," she said. "And I've had complaints. All everyone has had time for are the many upcoming celebrations. Including you. For the last two days you've spent all of your shift in here."
"But the celebrations are good for morale." He slapped a hand on the desk for emphasis and winced when one of the PADDS slid off and landed on his foot. He wriggled his toes until it dropped to the ground.
"No," she said, firmly. "It's not. Not from what I've been overhearing. And," she leaned forward, "I know you lied to Admiral April. You told him the nebula was more interesting than we first thought and we needed to stay longer so we could study it some more."
He frowned. "Have you been going behind my back?"
She shook her head. "I've been doing my job. I know the nebula isn't that interesting. Even the science department have grown bored with it and are working on side projects."
"But I've done all this research." He waved an arm to encompass the PADDs.
She sat up straighter. "You can have one party that celebrates all of the holidays at once. At the end of the month, so there's time to plan. And you have to run your plan past me."
"But everyone has different ways of celebrating," he tried.
"Chris." She lowered her voice. "You're tired too. Get some sleep and find something all the holidays have in common. A party with some food and drink would probably be enough."
He knew when he was beaten.
A night's sleep and a quiet bridge shift did help. He read through his list again and realized they could put this time to good use, without him needing to go back to Bob for a new assignment. Or admitting he'd lied. He was very much hoping Bob would never find that detail out. The lack of data they would be submitting on the nebula in the next month was a problem for another day.
"Skeleton crew for a week, with a party at the end of it," he said to Una when they reconvened to go over his new plan. "What most of the holidays have in common is spending time with family and friends. This way everyone gets to call their family and friends at home, and everyone gets to spend time with their friends here."
Una smiled. "I like it."
He didn't mention that he was intending to make sure the party included food that everyone associated with whichever holidays they observed. With everyone having extra time, he would be able to recruit himself enough helpers to get it all done. He suspected Una might balk at that idea, so he went with the principle of asking forgiveness rather than permission.
But she was now the one person who hadn't answered his question. He waited until she was leaving and then asked, "How do you celebrate?"
She paused at the door.
"I have an answer from everyone else on the ship."
She peered at him over her shoulder. "I like your plan, it'll work." And then she left.
Which left him wondering.
When the week came Chris had small groups of people over each evening to help cook and taste test the food for the party. It was also a good way to spend time with the crew. He was energized, not tired, by those evenings, so Una had nothing to complain about.
At the end of one of those evenings when everyone else had gone, leaving him and Una clearing up, he took his chance. "You never answered my question about what you celebrate," he said, passing her a clean, wet plate and then holding onto it, even as she gave it a gentle tug.
There was a moment when he didn't think she was going to answer. But then the tug slackened. He let the plate go, although she didn't immediately start drying it. "I've always been hiding who I am for as long as I can remember. If there was something specific we celebrated I've forgotten what it is."
He watched her stare at the plate for a moment, before she finally started drying it. Then he turned back to the sink to wash another. "There wasn't anything you did in secret?"
"It was too dangerous." She stepped closer and said quietly, "Chris, I appreciate what you're doing, but I'll enjoy the non-denominational holiday party like everyone else."
As much as he was tempted to find out more, there wasn't a way that didn't involve going behind her back, which he didn't want to do. So he was forced to leave it there. "It's going to be a good party," he promised.
On another of those evenings he asked Nyota to stay behind after everyone else had left.
"I'm thinking of making a speech at the party," he said.
She raised her eyebrows briefly, before her expression became a more neutral one.
Everyone loved a good speech. Even at a party. "I wanted to wish everyone happy holidays for their individual holidays, in their native languages. I have a list, but I hoped you could help with the pronunciations." He slid a PADD over to her.
She picked it up and scanned it. "That's a lot of holidays."
"But they can't all be that hard to pronounce."
It turned out that pronouncement was optimistic. They were both flagging before he called a halt, realizing his pronunciation was never going to improve beyond something that would make the whole crew wince. The trouble was that there were too many of them and he kept confusing the similar ones.
"This is a terrible idea." He stopped pacing and leaned on the back of the chair opposite Nyota.
She tilted her head a little. "It's sweet that you want to wish people happy holidays. But maybe happy holidays would cover it?"
"I guess so," he said, slumping a little. It felt like too small a gesture.
After a moment of staring at the windows, with a view of the nebula that had grown to be a normal sight, she brightened. "Why don't you make some banners with these phrases on and hang them around the room? They could become talking points. People who don't know each other well might find they celebrate the same holidays."
"That's a great idea." He stood up straight and she beamed. "Find some people to help you and speak to Number One. She'll adjust the schedules."
She had the expression of someone who hadn't meant to volunteer, but couldn't find a way to say no.
Chris pretended he hadn't noticed and smiled at her.
"I'll get right on it, sir," she said in a resigned tone.
Chris stepped inside the Port Galley and gazed around in wonder. It was decorated with shining lights and and sparkling tinsel. To one side there were tables of food, and the back area had become an impromptu dance floor. As he looked around the music changed from a song about snow to one about New Years.
He spotted Una and La'An at a table together, deep in conversation, each with a drink in hand. Although it turned out their conversation wasn't so deep Una didn't see him walk past. She smiled at him, before returning her attention to whatever La'An was saying.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Erica approach, from a table where she'd been drinking with Nyota and Christine. "These buñuelos are amazing," she said, holding one up. "They taste just like my grandmother's."
Chris smiled. "It was her recipe." Erica had given it to him, albeit in Spanish and with vague instructions.
She shook her head. "But no one else has ever made it quite like she made it. Even with the same recipe."
When he and Erica had tried making it together they had fallen apart as soon as you touched them, and were so dry they were inedible. But with a little research and a little testing he'd found the secret steps the recipe hadn't covered. Probably on purpose, he suspected. "I have a secret." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "I practiced."
Erica laughed and went back to her friends.
Pelia passed, holding a tray of drinks, and he watched her head over to a group of engineers. Judging by the number of empty glasses on the table they were having a good time. Chris was pretty sure Pelia could drink any of them under the table and wondered if they knew that. But he didn't interfere - if they didn't know now, they'd soon find out.
"How are the family?" he asked Sam, who was nearby with some friends.
"They're great. They enjoyed me being able to be with them for longer this year. Thank you for that." He raised his glass.
Chris smiled, glad that his plan had paid off. As he fetched himself a drink he saw Spock entering the bar. "Spock," he called him over. "Have you met Ensign Nyima? Security, joined us recently."
"I have not."
"Let me introduce you. She's very interested in spiritualism and meditation, and would love to discuss the similarities and differences between Vulcan and human meditation." Those were literally the words she'd said to him, after she'd explained how she celebrated Bodhi Day.
Once Spock and Nyima began talking he headed to the center of the room. He'd thought better of the speech, after his discussion with Nyota. The banners around the walls, which Nyota had done a good job on, said everything he needed to. But in a gap between music tracks he held up his glass and called out, "Happy Holidays."
There were shouts of "Happy Holidays" in return and more raised glasses. One party was a much better idea than something every day, not that he was about to admit to Una that she was right. She usually was and didn't usually need telling. For now, he'd enjoy the party. Maybe after a few drinks he'd let himself be talked onto the dance floor.
For now he went in search of the buffet table. There was nothing like spending a week cooking to make you hungry.
There, he found Joseph. "Enjoying the party?"
"I haven't been here long, but I like it." He added a mince pie to his plate. "So, how do you celebrate?"
Chris frowned.
"I heard you asked everyone else what holidays they celebrate at this time, but did anyone ask you?"
"No," he said, not having even thought about that. "But mostly we argued. This is better."
Joseph smiled. "This is better," he agreed.