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Shit
Shit shit shit shit shit.
Kirk whipped around his head and stared with wide bombay-sapphire eyes as the heavily falling snow flew around his face- obscuring his vision and making it hard to breathe.
Jim (with an effort) cupped his hands around his mouth and called the name of his first. “Spock! Spooock!”
“H-h-h-here C-c-c-captain.” With some effort (aka squinting really really hard) Kirk was able to see a mound of fuzzy dark hair and flailing green-flushed hands. Spock was almost completely buried.
“Jesus, Spock,” Kirk said as he pushed through the snow and waded over “are you chattering? Under all this protective shit?”
“Vulcan was n-never this c-c-cold, C-C-Captain. If you c-c-can recall-”
“Oh, yeah. Your quarters were always a hellluva lot warmer than mine” Kirk cut him off as he began to dig Spock out of the snow. When Spock’s hands were free, he brought the communicator up to his mouth with trembling hands and his greener-than-usual lips stuttered out the words “T-t-two t-t-to b-beam up, Mr. Scott.”
“Aye, sir! But so fast…..” He drifted off as they appeared on the pad and Scotty saw Spock.
He looked like a pitiful kitten left to soak in an old cardboard box with “free” scribbled on the side.
He was completely wet, and shivering from the tips of his ears down to the knobs of his knees. He was flushed green, especially on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His normally immaculate black hair was frenzied and sticking out in all directions. His eyes were large and he blinked rapidly as he wrapped his arms around him- uselessly trying to keep himself warm.
“Aww, Spock. You look like that almost-drowned cat Sam and I saved when I was, like, five. Hey! C’mon back to our quarters! I’ve got somethin that’ll fix you right up.”
Spock shot him a pathetic glare and trudged along beside Jim as they left the transporter room. “Hey, Scotty! Those readings were off, there wasn’t supposed to be a storm going on. Get on that, will ya?”
Scotty just looked with wide eyes as his Captain and Commander left, and said a belated “Aye, sir!” a few seconds after the door whooshed shut.
As they entered their quarters, Spock’s mood hadn’t improved any. Almost every crewmember they passed stopped and stared for a few seconds as the sopping wet captain and commander walked by.
“Jim-” Spock began to grumble
“Naw, Spock. You don’t get to bitch. Now, do you remember that Christmas present Chekov got you?” He asked
“….I….believe I do.”
“Great! Put it on!”
“But Jim-”
“Now Spock. Shoo!”
Spock lowly pointed out that Jim was cutting him off far too often today but obeyed and walked to the closet to change.
Jim let out a toothy smile and rubbed his hands together. He’d always wanted to see Spock drunk. A wet and irritated Spock equaled an unaware Spock . Spock would be too grumpy to notice if Kirk slipped him berry-chocolate oolong tea instead of his usual Sash-savas. And after the first drink, he wouldn’t notice if he traded in the tea for hot chocolate.
By the time Kirk changed, boiled water, and began steeping the tea- Spock had finished changing and sat down on the bed in their quarters.
As Kirk gave Spock the tea, he took a minute to look Spock over and smirked to himself while Spock took a sip.
Chekov’s Christmas present for Spock was a pair of footie PJs.
"I hawe a pair from zhe same kompany." he’d told them after Spock had opened the wrapping paper with dancing Santas on them, eyes green and sparkling, carols playing in the background (along with the unmistakable sound of Scotty drunk singing along with them). "Mamka bought zhem and I wore zhem in cold Russian winters. I know you get cold on sheep, Meester Spock, so maybe zhese weel help, da?"
Spock had stared at them for a little bit, before saying, "These are perfectly adequate, Mr. Chekov. Thank you for being so logical."
Chekov had beamed like the overexcitable sewenteen year old he was and replied, "I am glad you like zhe present, Kommander!"
Of course- Chekov being Chekov- was entirely into the Christmas spirit (Mamka and Papka and the family had big Christmases back in Russia) and it had bled into the gifts. Spock’s pjs was covered in cartoon reindeers surrounded in a light blue backdrop. They were prancing or sitting or eating candy canes and all around being extremely cute and child-like.
Now, Spock was many things according to many people. He was loyal, and strong, and cold, and smart, and logical.
However, looking at him cross-legged on the bed, eagerly sipping on his tea, Spock was nothing but adorable.
Spock smacked his lips (first indication his was buzzed- Spock never smacks his lips) and said, “Jim. I would like another cup of tea,” As an afterthought he added, “please.”
“Sure thing, Spock” Jim went over to the replicator and got two cups of hot cocoa. He brought them over to Spock and smiled as he began slurping one down (Spock never slurps, he sips, daintily). “How’re you feeling?”
“Qu-quite WELL, Jim. Jim. Jimmy-Jim?” Spock polished off the first cup and began on the second one Jim handed him.
“Yeah, Spock”
“Whashiss tea called, Jim?”
“It’s Hot Chocolate, Spock.”
“Chocolate?! Chocolate getssss Vulcans DRUNK Jim!”
“I know, Spock”
“Oooooh Jim. Naughty Jim. Naughty naughty Jim. Naughty…T’hy’la. My naughty t’hy’la…T’hy’la…”
Spock abruptly smushed Jim’s face in his hands, then lightened up so Jim’s lips weren’t completely puckered out. “Love…Jim. Love my Jim. My T’hy’laaaa.” Spock then gave him an extremely sloppy kiss before leaning back with a pleased look on his face. His raven hair was muzzed and his cheeks green and his lips swollen and parted and his coffee eyes wide and pupils blown and for a second- Jim thought that his heart was going to burst.
“Sleepy, Jim”
“Okay, Spock.”
Jim maneuvered him so that his head was in Jim’s lap and his arms around Jim’s waist
“Sleep now, Jim”
Jim ran his fingers through Spock’s hair and kissed him on the forehead. “Yeah, Spock, sure. I've got you”
Spock passed out, and promptly began to snore (which was actually a completely normal occurrence). Jim felt his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and a puddle of drool on his thigh, but couldn’t bring himself to care.
And if he had the computer take a picture and put the holo in his wallet- right next to Pike’s- well, that was his business and no one else’s.