Ah, December in Burlington. It was once again that magical time of the year when all good American children get together with their families, sing songs, and go into a frenzy of gluttony and avarice--you know what I mean--Christmas. McCoy was letting himself get caught up in the holiday spirit for once, strolling through the better neighborhoods to gaze at the multicolored lights that were strung in trees and picking out presents for each of his housemates with something akin to nostalgic glee. He thought about his daughter Joanna, two hundred years in the future, and wished he could see her even though she wasn't even a stem cell in a scrotum yet in this time line. But he wanted to celebrate anyway. His own family Christmases when he was little had always been big productions, and he wanted a little of that now to break up the monotony of a life without Klingons or admirals or starships.
Finally he decided to bring up during house meeting the possibility of everyone celebrating together. His housemates were sort of a family after all, or at least they squabbled like one. The meeting was almost over when Kirk called out for any final business and McCoy got his chance to speak.
"Jim, I have something I'd like to bring up." McCoy called. Everyone had been half way out of their chairs but settled back into them with a thud and sighed collectively. Kirk nodded.
"Go ahead, Bones."
"Well, I was just thinkin'...How would you guys all like to celebrate Christmas together this year?" McCoy waggled his eyebrows in a poor attempt to use charisma to convince them of the merit of such an idea. Unfortunately, everyone just looked squeamish.
"Well, Bones, that's a nice thought, but I'm Jewish," Kirk said, incredulous that Bones hadn't figured that out in the ten or so years they had known each other.
"I wasn't raised Christian either but I'd celebrate with you, Len," Uhura added, ribbing Kirk with her elbow. At least she knew him well enough to remember that he had once described his religious beliefs, despite his family tradition, as "open to any holiday that endorses binge-eating or send me to parties with pretty girls in fancy dresses to dance with. Now that's worth celebrating...."
"Holidays are illogical," said you-know-who.
"Oh, come on, guys," McCoy pleaded. "It'll be fun. We can light a menorah too, Jim, if that's what you want to do."
"No thanks, Bones." Kirk said. He really didn’t care either way, he just didn’t want to put any effort into this idea himself.
"I only like Christmas for the presents, personally," declared Chekov.
"Ah've always been partial to the Christmas ham, m'self," agreed Scotty, to which Kirk replied, shaking his head: "Please--no Christmas ham."
Scotty sighed and shrugged. "Turkey then?"
"I guess. I don't care."
"Presents too?" asked Chekov.
"Whatever." said Kirk, rolling his eyes.
"Illogical," reiterated Spock. Kirk cocked an eyebrow at him in an I'm-with-you-there look.
Bones noticed the look, but he knew he had won and grinned smugly at the two poor sports. They were going to do it!
****
Somehow, Kirk and Spock were the ones roped into procuring a tree. Luckily, there was a Christmas tree stand just four blocks away, by the high school now closed for winter break. They weaved in and out of the many rows of trees; some were short and plump, others tall and majestic, and a few were scraggly, scrawny ones that looked more likely to end up in a bonfire than in a living room. Kirk was muttering to himself as they inspected trees and Spock glanced over at him often to reassure himself that Kirk hadn't lost his infamous temper yet. Spock had already vetoed several trees for their asymmetry or their unsuitable height for the low-ceiling of their living room, and was now out of Kirk's good favor, so he did not attempt to intervene. Finally, Kirk stopped in front of a tree and called Spock over with a look of satisfaction.
"This one."
Spock rushed over, glad that Kirk had found one that he thought suitable, but stopped short when he saw it. Kirk stood proudly over a short, scraggly, most sorry-looking specimen of Christmas tree. Spock was perplexed. Surely this was some sort of strange human joke. Actually, this entire holiday seemed a strange human joke to Spock's sensibilities.
"Jim? Are you feeling well?"
"What's wrong with this one?" Kirk challenged.
"I'm not sure that the rest of the household would approve of your choice. This tree is rather.....mottled looking."
"So what? I like it. If they cared so much than they should have come themselves."
"Jim, I--"
"--Dammit Spock, I'm sick of looking around at stupid friggin' trees. I say it serves them right for making us come out here and dragging the damn thing back ourselves. We're getting this one." Kirk's eye gleamed with a stubborn light. Spock sighed; he knew he could do nothing other than acquiesce when Kirk was in such a mood. Together they paid for the tree (though the salesperson gave them an odd look when he saw which tree they had picked) and dragged it back to the apartment.
After a short walk back, they huffed up the stairs with the unwieldy foliage and stamped the snow off their boots at the entrance. An amused Chekov opened the door to them.
“I thought for sure ve had a few big elephants on de staircase, but no. Just a few small men. Oh, vell. At least dey brought a tree.” He looked over Kirk’s shoulder at the tree in question. “Or a shrub? What kind of tree is dat?”
“It's a Christmas tree,” Kirk gritted his teeth in annoyance. “Now, kindly get the hell out of the way.” Chekov stepped back to let them in. They dragged it in, dropping needles along the way, and then put it down to remove their boots and jackets. Uhura came over and had a look while they did so.
“That’s our Christmas tree?” She looked disbelievingly.
“Yes, that's our Christmas tree,” Kirk snapped back. He bent over and picked it back up. “We got it. You guys set it up.” He tried to shove the tree at Chekov, who just stepped backwards out of the way, palms up.
Uhura shook her head. “That is the most depressing tree I’ve ever seen. Leonard isn’t going to like it.”
“I really don’t care what Bones thinks. He should have gotten the tree himself if he cared so much,” Kirk argued. That stubborn glint was back in his eye, and Uhura too knew not to push it.
“Fine, it doesn’t matter to me either. Come on, Pavel. Help me get this into the living room.” She took the pathetic little tree from Kirk and sighed.
*****
The tree was set up and Texas, their kitten, was in heaven. Uhura had purchased tinsel and the kitten batted it around, chased bits that she managed to pull off the tree, and chewed on pieces that dangled low enough to reach until someone invariably came in and stopped her, worried that she might choke. There were also little winking lights tangled in the branches, and a few cheap ornaments to entertain her as she zipped around the room. Of all the housemates, she was the one most enjoying the ‘holiday spirit’ enforced by McCoy.
If Texas enjoyed it most, Spock enjoyed it least, and not just because an emotional reaction to the holiday would be illogical. Kirk seemed even more ill-tempered than usual, and Spock, as the one closest to him, was receiving the brunt of his temper. Unfortunately, Kirk did not seem to want to talk with him about it. Spock concluded that it was probably a human thing, something that Kirk could address more easily with McCoy than with him. He hoped that the good doctor would soon ascertain the real trouble. He didn’t know that McCoy had already planned an intervention with brandy, some time alone together, and a few good, old-fashioned threats of personal harm, should Kirk refuse to open up.
*****
"So what did you want, Bones?" Kirk slumped onto the bed in McCoy's room as McCoy poured him a shot.
"Drink first," McCoy ordered, shoving the shot glass at Kirk, who took it and sniffed, grimacing.
"Gee, Bones. You sure broke out the good stuff this time."
"Oh, shut up. I can't afford the good stuff on my lousy salary and you know it. But it's brandy, nevertheless. Drink up."
Kirk obeyed, and shuddered as the stinky stuff slid down his throat. "Ew. Oh well, when we get back to the ship, I'll buy you a case of the good stuff." He held out his glass for another shot. McCoy looked at him closely, but poured him another.
"Jim? You haven't talked like that in a long time. What's brought it up now? I thought we agreed that the Guardian of Forever would bring us back when it was good and ready, if ever, and that we shouldn't worry about it or do too much 'when I get back,' sort of talk in the meantime. You said yourself that dwelling on it would make us desperate."
Kirk sighed. "I know we said that. I still agree that's what's best. I don't know why I said it.....Have you heard from Sulu recently?"
McCoy rolled his eyes. More evasion, eh? Well, he wouldn't let Kirk get away with it.
"Come on, Jim. His letters and calls have always been sporadic, but that's not the point. What the hell is wrong with you lately? And don't tell me, 'nothing,' 'cause you know damn well I won't believe it. You practically have Spock in a tizzy with worry, not that he'd admit it. So spit it out. Tell your doctor what's on your mind."
"Jeez, Bones, don't jump down my throat--your brandy is doing a fine job of that itself. I'll tell you, but seriously, sometimes you mother me worse than Spock." He sighed. "It's just that I hate this time of year. It always makes me feel used-up and old."
"Well, you are old."
"Gee, thanks Bones." Kirk frowned into his shot glass.
"I only meant sort of. You're middle-aged, anyway." McCoy tilted his head, reckoning the years. "But you're what--forty? Forty is only old if you still want to live like you're twenty, Jim, and who the hell wants to do that?"
"Well, maybe I do. I'm a captain. And I'm forty-five, which is older than forty. Bones, if we ever get back to the twenty-third century, what if I'm too old to run a starship? I guess I'm feeling anxious about time. I mean, we could conceivably end up back in the twenty-third century just seconds after we left, but meanwhile, I've aged five years!"
"Is that all that's on your mind, Jim?"
"Mostly.”
"Jim, you'll never be too old to do what you do best. Get over yourself. Your job will be there for you when you get back. Whenever we get back. But in a way, time is on your side. There was a time when you were too young to do what you do best--you would have made a horrible captain at twenty--trust me, I remember you."
"Humph. I'll bet you do. You probably remember the dinosaurs, Bones."
McCoy punched his arm. "Don't insult your doctor, or you'll get a hypo spray where the sun don't shine."
Kirk punched him back. "You wish."
McCoy tried to block and said "See? You'll never be old. Time stands still for James T. Kirk. Even when you're ninety you'll have the emotional maturity of an eight-year-old." They both laughed.
"Thanks, Bones."
"Anytime, Jim. Now lighten up. Poor Spock needs a rest. You sure know how to make that Vulcan worry, Imperious Tiberius."
"Shut up, Bones. I hate that nickname." Kirk chuckled.
"Well, you deserve it."
Kirk sighed. "I suppose. That's what got me a posting as captain though, so don't knock it. But I'd better go apologize to Spock, so I can get away from you and your terrible brandy."
McCoy harrumphed, pretending to be offended, though he knew Kirk saw right through it.
"Thanks for the pep-talk, Bones."
"Anytime, Imperious." McCoy paused, then added wryly, "oh by the way, nice job on the tree, Jim."
Kirk looked back with wounded expression.
"But I picked it out just for you, doc."
*****
Christmas Eve rolled around, and the housemates decided to do a potluck dinner; it was a 'logical' arrangement, Spock might say, given everyone's vastly different ideas about what constituted sustenance. McCoy and Scotty conspired to cook a turkey--stuffing and all--which Kirk took as opportunity to remind them derisively that it was Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Kirk, who had never been much of a cook, contributed by buying a blueberry pie at the general store down the street. Uhura made a vegetarian pad Thai, Chekov bought a huge bottle of vanilla vodka and some egg nog to go with it, and Spock made baked yams, something Amanda had made for him several times growing up.
McCoy looked at the feast laid out on the table, shaking his head. Not your mother's Christmas dinner, he thought, but at least we're all here together. Texas poked her head up, sniffing, and McCoy shooed her away. "Except you," he said out loud. "No cats at the table."
"Species-ist," Uhura accused. McCoy pretended not to hear.
On her own, Uhura had looked up rituals associated with Christmas to help McCoy plan their celebration and had come upon a very interesting one involving a bit of shrubbery hung from the ceiling. "Mistletoe!" Uhura had exclaimed, and then she grinned. "Now this looks like fun..."
So it was hung from the ceiling just inside the kitchen and everyone was duly warned about its presence and its purpose. For the first half of the evening everyone skirted around its realm of influence nervously, but as dinner passed and Chekov's gigantic bottle of vanilla vodka got progressively emptier, the housemates seemed to forget it was there.
The first ones to get caught under it, much to Uhura's amusement, were Spock and Chekov. Uhura caught them and insisted, but Chekov would have none of it.
"I'm not going to kiss zhat...zhat....zhat....granola-breath health freak! Forget it! You could not pay me to kiss Spock."
Spock crossed his arms and added quietly, "The feeling is mutual, I assure you."
Kirk caught the exchange from the back of the kitchen and suppressed a smirk. Chekov and Spock's proclamations were an amusing and convenient cover for Kirk's pilfering of the last piece of pie. If those two were otherwise engaged, he wouldn't get a lecture from Spock on the dangers of refined sugars or an accusation from Chekov about eating more than his fair share of the tasty dessert.
Uhura, however, noticed the surprisingly nonchalant mood of Spock's other (we won't say better) half and the reason for it, and aimed a scolding finger at Kirk, who at least had the decency to blush before making off with the pie, while Uhura went to lecture the cold-footed kissers on the importance of peace and togetherness during the holiday season.
After several minutes of back-and-forth accusations, Uhura put her foot down. "Shut up, both of you. I want less complaining, more kissing. It'll be over sooner that way, I promise." She favored them both with a commanding stare that would have put an admiral to shame.
So finally, with eyes rolling skyward in petition for reprieve and exasperated sighs escaping suddenly dry lips, the two men grimaced and forced their lips to touch. The deed done, they moved apart as quickly as possible, Chekov making an exaggerated gagging noise and Spock neatly wiping his sleeve across his recently soiled mouth. Uhura shook her head, trying not to laugh. It wasn't exactly a friendly kiss, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Bones sidled up to her, chuckling.
"Nice work, darlin'. Those two will never live that down. Heh. I doubt they'll even be able to look each other in the eye for a while." He leaned in and whispered, "And if you ask me, your friendly doctor, I'd say there's more than a little bit of sexual tension in all that bickering."
"Shh, no! Don't even say it, Len. They'll never speak to you again," Uhura laughed. "Besides, who died and made you Freud?"
"Nobody wants to hear what the expert has to say," sighed McCoy dramatically. "Besides, it's not like Jim would mind if they did. He's too busy sexing up that last piece of pie."
*****
Much later, when Uhura and Texas were caught, Uhura scooped up the wiggly kitten and cuddled her, planting a kiss on the top of her gray, fuzzy head. Texas purred and licked the tip of Uhura's nose. Kirk watched the whole scene and then made a retching noise as if the excessive cuteness nauseated him. Uhura, in response, flipped him the bird. He could have sworn that the kitten smirked at him.
Scotty and McCoy caught themselves. When they realized what they were standing under, they both went bright red, glanced around furtively to see if there were witnesses, and sighed with relief when they realized they were--miraculously--alone. That made them blush again, look at each other speculatively for a moment, and say "...nah!" almost in unison, before retreating to opposite ends of the house to regain their senses of heterosexual manhood.
Kirk also stuck around the kitchen, waiting to see if Spock would happen to walk under the mistletoe, but Spock (for fear of being caught and forced to kiss someone other than his bondmate again) patiently stepped around it whenever he passed by. Kirk eventually lost his patience, and after everything was put away from dinner, Kirk grabbed his Vulcan by the hand and firmly pulled him away to bed.
McCoy overheard Spock comment to Kirk as he was being dragged to bed, “You were the one responsible for the missing piece of pie, correct? Jim, you know that.....”
But the rest of the sentence was lost by a shushing kiss and a door being shut behind them.
*****
On Christmas morning, McCoy went around to everyone's rooms and shouted until the occupants arose grumbling and cursing, ready for gift exchange. They all piled into the living room in their pajamas (except Chekov, who slept naked and had had the decency to put on a pair of pants instead of horrifying the household) and woke up Scotty, who was still snoring away on the couch with Texas. Kirk was the last one in, cradling a cup of coffee to his breast like it was as precious as the baby Jesus himself. He was greeted by the half-asleep faces of his housemates in their bed-time finery, and was so horrified by the vision before him that he almost ran out of the room and back into bed.
Over the past few years, he'd gotten used to seeing his former bridge officers letting themselves go, in his opinion. He'd stopped shaking his head at Scotty's now-enormous beer-gut, Spock's long-hair (which he'd actually learned to enjoy as of late), and Chekov with eyeliner and gel in his hair. But even that hadn't prepared Kirk for the sight before him; all five of his housemates at seven in the morning, before coffee, cover-up, showering, and hairbrushes could -something-. Uhura's usually elaborately coifed hair was flattened on one side and sticking out straight on the other. McCoy had a couple days' worth of stubble and smelled like a night shift at the hospital. Chekov reeked of metabolized vanilla vodka and was dressed only in lime-green sweatpants, displaying a recent, and until then unrevealed, nipple piercing. Scotty was wearing only a ratty pair of briefs and a dirty bathrobe, which was actually about normal.
McCoy saw Kirk's flight instinct take hold and blocked the doorway, shoving Kirk towards a seat on the floor near Spock. Jolted out of his initial terror, for once Kirk gave in to someone else's orders and joined Spock on the floor with a resigned sigh. Spock looked about as uncomfortable with their housemates' appearances as Kirk. Kirk sent a wave of affection for Spock across their mind-link. It was nice not to be the only shallow one.
Spock, hoping to get this nonsense started and finished as quickly as possible, brought out five envelopes and passed one out to each of his housemates.
"What are they, Spock?" McCoy asked.
"Open them and you shall find out." Spock answered.
"Gift certificates?" Uhura asked, opening her envelope. "To Blue Moon Market?"
"Gee, Spock, how thoughtful," Kirk commented, giving his bondmate an ironic smile and a kiss. “Not that I can comment, I didn’t get these bastards anything.”
Chekov and did not deign to comment, only rolled his eyes at Scotty, who shrugged. He was planning on spending his gift certificate on some of the good, dark Scottish beer that was sold at the market. His mouth watered a little bit as he thought of a nice, cold bottle of Killian’s Red Ale.
McCoy and Uhura had coordinated their gift-buying. Uhura put some of her tips from Hooters aside, and McCoy had sold some, though not all, of the medicinal marijuana. Between the two of them, they had managed to scrape together some decent gifts.
For Scotty, they bought a bottle of Scotch and some decent pants, hoping he'd take the hint and start wearing them more often.
McCoy and Uhura had briefly argued over what to give to Chekov. McCoy had said, "Let's just get him a big box of condoms. You know, with assorted flavors and colors and shit." Uhura rolled her eyes, then picked out a home-spa kit with bath salts and massage oil instead.
For Spock, Uhura and McCoy had agreed to get him two separate gifts. Spock opened the first package to find three pairs of organic wool socks, naturally dyed several shades of brown. He cocked an eyebrow at McCoy. "Eminently logical, doctor." McCoy made an "at your service" gesture and smirked at Uhura.
Spock inspected the other gift, surmising it to be a paperback book by its shape and flexibility. Both he and Kirk, who'd been looking over Spock's shoulder as he removed the wrapping paper, flushed when they read its title. Sex, Love, and Health - Naturally! By Brigitte Mars. McCoy and Uhura burst out laughing, and Spock did his best to hide the book. Chekov called, "Vhat ees it, Spock?"
"It is a book," he said in a forbidding tone.
"Let us see it, then," Scotty said.
"No. I would prefer not-" Spock did not have a chance to finish his sentence, as Chekov grabbed the book from the Vulcan's hands. He glanced at the title and snorted, then tossed it to Scotty who joined in the merriment at the lovers' expense.
Kirk and Spock sat there, trying to maintain dignity while the onslaught of laughter slowly petered out, and plotting revenge. Eventually, the housemates regained an appearance of maturity and the gift giving resumed.
Kirk was the next to open his gifts. He had also received two separate gifts from Uhura and McCoy, the first of which he opened with zest. It was bulky and awkwardly wrapped, and it was unveiled to be a black, tri-cornered felt hat with a skull and cross-bones embroidered in white on the crown. He looked at it, confused for a moment, and then he ascertained its function and placed it on his head with a hearty "AAARGH!" Uhura clapped and exclaimed, "Perfect!"
"It goes even better with the gray in your beard-stubble," added McCoy. Kirk slapped him. "Ouch, open the second gift, asshole."
Kirk got to work on it. It was a much smaller package, and also an odd shape, which made him curious. Under the wrapping was a small tin, and in the tin was a baggy. He unrolled the baggy and sniffed.
"Medical marijuana?"
"Medicinal," McCoy corrected. "But yeah, I thought you could use a little 'chilling out,' my friend."
Kirk looked pleased with the gift. "Thanks, friend. I will be sure to 'chill out' right after breakfast." Spock took one look at the contents of the baggy and turned, if possible, greener. He had not forgotten the effects of the seemingly innocuous intoxicant on his immune system the one time he had tried it.
"If we are finished patting each other on de back, I also have purchased geefts for each of you," Chekov interjected. He brought out a big bag from behind the tree and lugged it over to the circle. Everyone was tossed a small, unwrapped electronics package. Chekov looked bored while everyone struggled with the plastic encasement.
Uhura was the first one to maul through the predictable overkill of tough, clear plastic and get to the gift itself. She held it up; a small box with a screen and two dangling ear-pieces. "What is it?" She asked. Chekov scoffed at her ignorance.
"Vhat EES it?!? My god, you people act like you are from zee stone age, NOT zee future. Eet's an iPod!"
"IPod?" Kirk wondered.
"Yes, you leesten to music on zem! I cannot believe you are so brain-dead."
Uhura vaguely recalled an article in the newspaper about these 'iPods' and finally understood the value of the gift.
"Chekov, honey, these are great!" She exclaimed, and planted a kiss on Chekov's head. "Thanks, sweetie!"
He winced away. "You are velcome, just don't kiss me again. I don't see any of that terrible meestletoe around."
She gently cuffed him and ruffled his hair. "I love you too."
Kirk, Spock and Scotty inspected their own iPods and came up to thank Chekov. Kirk shook his hand and squeezed his shoulder with a grateful smile. “Nice work, Pavel.” He realized that Chekov had spent a lot of money on them and had tried to get a gift that all of them could appreciate. Scotty lightly punched his arm and said "Ye are a nice lad, I always knew it."
Spock stood by uncomfortably and held out his hand to Chekov. Chekov looked embarrassed but gave in and shook Spock's hand briefly. Neither of them made eye contact, and they both tried not to look pleased that they had come to an unspoken truce.
Finally, Scotty decided it was time to share his gift to the household. He walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “I got yer presents right here, mates.”
He grabbed a paper bag that had been stuffed into the back of the fridge and brought it into the living room. “Jus’ give me a moment to get ‘em ready.” He pulled out a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon and tossed a beer to each of his housemates. He kept the last one for himself and broke it open. “I made ye’ all breakfast.”
*****
Two days later, Chekov stumbled out of his bedroom and into the single bathroom to pee. Uhura was showering. She called out to Chekov, “Honey, do you think you could check the mail? I want to know if my paycheck’s arrived.”
Chekov groaned.
“Oh, shut-up and do a girl a favor.”
Chekov groaned again, this time in grudging assent. He flushed, enjoying the accompanying shriek and cursing from behind the shower curtain, and shuffled out.
The mailbox hadn’t been checked in days. There were the usual bills and flyers advertising vacuum cleaners on special at Sears, Uhura’s paycheck from Hooters, and one credit card offer addressed to Mrs. James T. Kirk, which made Chekov snigger. There was also a postcard, which Chekov withdrew in surprise.
On it was a picture of Marilyn Monroe’s famous “Whoopsie, I didn’t realize I was standing over an air vent!” pose. Chekov turned it over, read the note on the back, and shrieked.
The End
