Celebrations (II)
Title: Celebrations
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Rating: PG
Length: 8,252
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: A series of celebrations throughout the year. Written for ksadvent2009
Notes:
Part One can be found here.
//
July 24th
The Gratitude Festival/Peldor Festival - Bajor
Spock greeted Jim in the hallway with, “Peldor Joi,” and was rewarded by a big smile.
“Now you’re getting into the spirit!” he proclaimed, and led the way to the bridge. There was already an official celebration happening, organized by Lieutenant Uhura, and so after their shift, they went to join it. It was a simple ceremony, there not being a lot of resources on the ship. They certainly couldn’t light a bonfire on the ship, so they had compromised.
Instead of a fire, there was a large metal dish in the middle of Rec Room C. There was paper and pens, and incense that gave off the scent of Bateret leaves. All in all, it seemed a quiet ceremony, which Spock appreciated greatly after the last couple of weeks.
They had had a run of dangerous and important missions. It recently seemed as though every routine planet check was destined to become a near-death experience for either the Captain or Spock, and they had lost three brave officers in the last two weeks. Spock had spent a truly staggering amount of time in sickbay, mostly watching over the Captain who was being kept on enforced sick leave. As a result, this particular ceremony was very welcome. Spock wasn’t sure whether it was celebrated this way on Bajor, having never been, but this way seemed appropriate for the sombre attitude prevalent on the ship recently.
People were writing their troubles on paper and then folding it. They would light it on fire and drop it into the bowl, watching as it crumbled to ash. There was already quite a bit of ash in the bottom of the bowl. “Do you have a trouble you’d like to burn?” asked Jim, holding out a pen and a piece of paper. Spock took it and watched as Jim smiled and then braced his paper against his hand and began writing.
Jim wrote one, two, three, as Spock watched, all on separate pieces of paper, folding them up neatly and then looking at his First Officer. He smiled slightly, almost awkwardly at him and Spock was struck by the angles of his face and the golden hue of his skin. Tearing his eyes away, Spock pressed his paper into his left hand and held his old-fashioned ink pen and he wrote, “This inexplicable emotion.”
He folded it, and then they walked to the metal bowl together. They lit their troubles and threw them in, watching as the paper curled and burned underneath the flame. Afterwards, Jim pressed his hand to Spock’s arm and looked into his eyes, and Spock felt warm inside.
//
August 12th
Federation Day - Various
After ‘Fizzbin’, Jim continued to show his ability to make up nonsensical card games.
After insisting that there needed to be something more to celebrate Federation Day, he had ordered all the senior staff to report to Recreation Room B to play poker. He had also, apparently, decided to make up a new version of poker, which he called ‘Federation Day Poker,’ and was exceptionally difficult to play.
Despite the game being illogical, it seemed to catch on quite well with the crew. With so many cards being wild cards, it was almost impossible to know what you had in your hand, and led to many friendly arguments about who won each round. People constantly had “four of a kind”, or straight flushes, depending on what they decided each card was worth. It led to a very interesting evening.
By the end of the night, Spock had taken most of the pot, and everyone else went home talking about Federation Day.
//
September 2nd
Rumarie - Vulcan
“Spock,” Jim said over the chess table one night.
When no information seemed like it was forthcoming, Spock replied, “Yes, Jim?”
“I thought you said there were no Vulcan holidays.”
“If you recall, I believe that I told you that there were only two Vulcan holidays that are still celebrated. Tal-Shanar and Kal Rekk.”
Jim’s mouth was stretching into a one-sided smile, and this immediately put Spock on his guard. “Well,” said Jim, “What do you know about old holidays? You know...traditional holidays that maybe aren’t celebrated anymore.”
Spock hoped fervently that this wasn’t going where he thought it was going. Then he reminded himself that that was illogical and answered, “I know most of the ancient Vulcan traditions.”
“How about Rumarie?”
His pronunciation was appalling, but nevertheless, Spock knew what he was talking about. “That has not been observed since the early fourteenth century.”
“Why not?”
The answer was fairly obvious for anyone who knew what Rumarie entailed, and so Spock didn’t say anything, and watched as his Captain’s smile widened even further. “So,” said the human, leaning forward, “There’s no real reason that Vulcans don’t celebrate it anymore.”
“No, sir,” Spock said, feeling suddenly out of his depth.
“Why don’t we then? I’m game.”
“Captain, Rumarie would be quite inappropriate for the two of us to celebrate alone.”
“You’re saying you wouldn’t like to get half naked with me, cover us both in grease and then chase me around, trying to pin me to the floor?”
Unfortunately, that image was very pleasing to Spock, and it nearly tempted him to agree to celebrate. Nevertheless, his resolve was much stronger than his sex drive, and he shook his head, “It would not be a true celebration of Rumarie unless we were on Vulcan.”
“Oh, come on, we celebrate lots of other festivals without actually being on those planets. It’s not like we were on Yanar for the Hope Festival.” Jim actually looked disappointed, and Spock had to remind himself that that was most likely because he was being denied a chance to participate in this ceremony which would undoubtedly be enjoyable for him, rather than because he wanted to get pinned beneath Spock. An image floated into the Vulcan’s head of attempting to hold down a slippery Jim as he wriggled and tried to get free.
He squashed that.
“Those festivals do not require you to be on the planet. Rumarie, like many other Vulcan celebrations, is tied in integrally to the location. It would be impossible to find the Rillian teaberry melon to make the grease anywhere else, and the chant prior to the...festival activities requires a Vulcan temple.”
Jim looked crestfallen, and Spock had to wonder whether Jim actually knew that Rumarie often entailed sex. It was meant to be a representation of chasing down one’s desired mate, and having to keep them in your grasp, despite the slickness of their flesh. Jim couldn’t have known that when he suggested it, could he? If he had, it must be another joke.
Sometimes it was hard to tell when Jim was joking.
//
September 26th:
Day of Adoration - Weron
Jim gave almost everyone he ran into a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Including Bones. Excepting Spock.
Vulcans don’t get jealous, he had to remind himself.
//
November 16th
Prixin - Talax
“You know, Bones often complains that we spend all our time together. He says I need to get out more.”
“Is that so?” asked Spock, not looking up from where he was working on a delicate piece of equipment. He and Lieutenant-Commander Scott were trying to optimize the communication devices, and it was tricky work.
Jim was sitting nearby, reading. They were in the same room, but not participating in any activity together. There was no real reason for this, but he suspected that it might just be to spend time in the same room. If Jim needed that, then Spock would oblige him. It was not at all disagreeable to him; particularly after the busy and stressful day they’d had, taking care of civil unrest on what was supposed to be an un-populated planet. “He was whining that we’re like an old married couple, only without the bickering.”
“Given that we are not in a relationship in any way like that of marriage, I fail to see the basis for such a comment.”
“I know!” Jim exclaimed, lifting his hands in emphasis. “It’s like we can’t see each other too often, or we’re not allowed to just be friends anymore. I can’t help it that we’re pretty much family.”
“Is that why you have chosen to spend three out of the five days of Prixin with me thus far?”
Jim sat upright. “I totally forgot!” he exclaimed in dismay. Clearly he had been too busy to remember the holiday, and Spock didn’t blame him. He tilted his head slightly.
“It is just as well then,” the First Officer said in a low voice, as he turned and opened the drawer near his desk, “that you have a Vulcan for a First Officer.”
“Just as well!” Jim exclaimed, smiling as Spock placed a bowl in front of him. Spock was beginning to think that perhaps Jim’s smiles were the most beautiful in the universe, frequent and fleeting though they were. He watched as the spoon passed Jim’s lips, and saw how his eyes lit up when he tasted it. “Fruit in moolt nectar? Spock, you spoil me!”
“On the contrary, to spoil is to impair, damage, or harm the character or nature of someone by unwise treatment or excessive indulgence. I do not see your character becoming tainted, and it is certainly not excessive indulgence if you deserve it.”
He was graced with another smile. “To be honest,” Jim said, “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend Prixin with.” There was a contented silence for a while as they ate their treats, Jim positively glowing with pleasure. “Do you happen to know the salutation, by any chance?” he asked Spock, after a while.
Spock, of course, did, and recited it to an enthralled Jim.
"We do not stand alone. We are in the arms of family: the Enterprise and each other. We gather this day to extol the warmth and joy of those unshakable bonds. Without them we could not call ourselves complete. On this day we are thankful to be together. We do not stand alone."
“Thanks Spock,” Jim said, “Ditto all of that right back at you.”
“Thank you, Jim,” Spock said.
//
December 25th:
Christmas - Earth
Jim liked Christmas. It was a familiar tradition. As far as he knew, his family had always celebrated it. Some of his best memories from childhood had always been Christmas day, possibly the only time his family had ever really been together. And so it was that he was happy to share the celebration with his family on the Enterprise.
The day was very festive. Lieutenants Webb and Saito had, very enthusiastically, decorated much of the Enterprise hallways, and spent most of their days randomly breaking out into song. Jim only knew about half of them, and got officially banned from singing after he joined in on one verse of ‘jingle bells’.
Though the hat was irritating, as the fluffy bobble on the end kept swinging about whenever he shifted in his seat, it was worth it for the way Spock’s eyes followed the swinging motion. “Your hat is most illogical,” he told Jim at lunch time as the other man ate turkey and roast potatoes.
“You should try mince pies,” Jim told him instead, gesturing at him with his fork instead of arguing the point (because, to be honest, the hat was illogical). “I think you’d like them. They were originally made with meat, but not usually anymore. Or,” the Captain’s face lit up, and he smiled, “Candy canes.”
“I do not understand why you eat these foods on this day. What is the origin of the tradition?”
“Don’t know,” said Jim, and filled his mouth with turkey and stuffing, “Didn’t you ever have a Christmas at home?”
“My mother usually had a small celebration, but it was never as elaborate as the festivities which have been taking place today,” Spock delicately sipped his vegetable soup, “And I never attended any Christmas commemoration during my time on Earth. It simply did not interest me.”
“Does it interest you now?”
Spock considered this, and then decided that yes, it did, primarily as it was apparently an integral part of Jim’s childhood. “I am curious to learn more about other cultures and their customs.”
“I still think you should explore yours more. Rumarie? I’m telling you, that’d be the perfect way to explore culture and customs!” Jim laughed, voice muffled by the stuffing in his mouth.
The Vulcan chose to answer this with a steady blank stare.
Jim laughed. “Okay, fine, I’ll let that slide for now.”
It was impossible not to note the “for now” on the end of that sentence. Spock frowned ever so slightly, but his mind was forced to change tracks when Jim started waving something long, painted with red and white stripes with a hook at the end directly in front of his face. “What is this?” he asked.
“Candy cane,” Jim handed it to him, and began to unwrap his own. Spock watched with fascination as he peeled off the plastic and stuck one end in his mouth. He didn’t appear to bite down, and by the hollowing of his cheeks, Spock could surmise that he was sucking on the candy. Delicately, he unwrapped half of his own cane, as Jim had done, and placed it in his mouth. The resulting taste was interesting. It was minty, but obviously primarily made of sugar.
At Jim’s expectant look, he removed the confectionary from his mouth, “It has a pleasing taste, but is most likely to be lacking in the proper nutrients required to call this ‘food.’”
“That’s why it’s called candy,” said the Captain, without removing the stick. It was pressed into his left cheek so that he could talk, and the hook distorted the skin of his cheek in a fascinating way. “You’re not supposed to eat it for nutrition, just for taste.”
“I see,” said Spock, finding this wholly illogical, but nevertheless, putting the processed sugar stick back into his mouth. The two of them sat in relative quiet for a while, sucking on their candy canes. Jim looked delighted. Spock was not sure why. The taste was pleasant, but there were certainly other foods that were better. Eventually, Jim crunched off the end of the cane with the side of his teeth. Spock couldn’t determine whether they were molars or pre-molars, but nevertheless, copied the gesture as best he could, and then they rewrapped the end of the candy cane.
“Don’t have time to eat it all now,” said Jim, standing, “so we save it for later. I don’t know how professional you’ll look on the bridge eating a candy cane.”
Spock couldn’t argue with that logic, though he did have another concern, “I do not believe that this is a very hygienic manner of saving our candy canes. There is a good chance of bacteria growing in the dampness left by our saliva.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be eating them soon enough. I’m sure our digestive systems can handle any bacteria that grow in that time.” Jim took his tray to the conveyor, placing it there so it could be cleaned in the back room. Spock did the same and then they made their way to the bridge.
It was a relatively normal shift. Spock spent much of it in the engineering section, helping Lieutenant-Commander Scott to recalibrate some of the engine sensors. Since Spock had signed up to cover the first half of Beta shift - allowing others to drop in on the Christmas party being held in the main mess hall, he went to the bridge at approximately 1600 to find a jubilant captain twirling in his chair. “Spock!” he exclaimed, “How was Engineering?”
“It has not changed since the last time you visited,” said Spock and then followed the Captain’s gaze to above his own head, quickly moving when he realised that there was a plant hanging above him, “Is this a decoration?” he asked the Captain, who smiled slyly.
“Mistletoe,” Captain Kirk told him.
“I see. And what is its significance?” the Vulcan asked as he stepped down to stand beside the command chair.
“Christmas tradition,” Jim leant forward and lowered his voice, as if sharing a confidential piece of information with his First Officer, “If two people stand underneath it at the same time, they have to kiss each other.”
“Fascinating,” said Spock, looking at the plant more closely, not moving from where he stood, “And there are no exceptions to this rule?”
“No, Mr. Spock, there aren’t.”
“Hmmm,” said Spock and then moved to sit in the Captain’s chair as the Captain got up.
“Now Spock,” said Jim, cocking his head, “You’re going to promise me that you’ll come to the party at 2200, right? Right after your shift ends, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Spock told him, and was rewarded by a satisfied-looking expression on his Captain’s face. The man turned to leave, pausing only to say, “Don’t linger too long getting into the Turbo-lift.”
He was obviously referring to the mistletoe, and Spock looked at it again, warily, as Jim disappeared into the lift.
Spock reported to the mess at 2203, as requested by Captain Kirk. When he got there, he found that the party was already in full swing. People were dancing, laughing and eating, and drinks seemed to be in everyone’s hands. Immediately feeling out of place, Spock gravitated towards one of the walls, only to be halted by Jim appearing at his elbow. He seemed slightly intoxicated, though certainly no more than tipsy, and was smiling widely from ear to ear. “Spock! I’m glad you made it! Have some eggnog!”
A cup was slapped into his hand, the liquid inside it nearly sloshing out. Raising it, Spock sniffed at it delicately, and at Jim’s insistence, took a sip.
“What do you think?” asked Jim, and Spock considered, trying it again.
“I’m uncertain whether I like the taste or not. It is very peculiar.”
“Fascinating, almost,” Jim said, grinning, and Spock agreed.
The party ended up speeding by as Jim, as usual, made for very enthralling conversation. Soon it was 0100, and the room began to empty out. It was not long before it was just Jim and Spock, left sitting at a table on one side of the room. “It almost makes me sad to see the aftermath of parties,” said Jim, looking sadly at the tinsel and decimated food table.
“How illogical of you,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow.
The captain got up and wandered over, idly stacking plates and putting them on the conveyor, “I don’t know, it’s just like the decorations are lonely.” He laughed, more a huff of air than anything, and then brightened as he seemed to remember something, “I need to give you your present. Come to my quarters!”
“I shall visit my quarters first, to retrieve your gift, and then join you.”
Jim nodded and they left the mess hall. It was approximately four point nine minutes later that they were together in Jim’s quarters, sitting one on either side of the desk, the presents sitting atop the surface between them. The Captain pushed his over eagerly, looking at Spock expectantly and smiling again.
Obligingly, Spock took the present, and began un-wrapping it as delicately as possible, not tearing the paper on it and removing it gently. It was impossible to miss how Jim’s eyes were riveted on his fingers as he did it. Opening the box found within the paper, Spock felt warmth bubble up in his chest as he recognized the instrument contained within. It was a Vulcan pan-flute, the construction lovely and the sound, when he blew it, clear and sharp.
“I know you like music and play the lyre often, so I wanted to let you expand your collection of instruments.”
Spock tipped his head and gave Jim a half-smile, “Thank you, Jim.”
“You’re welcome,” said Jim, and took the present from Spock when he gave it to him. He, contrary to Spock, tore the paper off, throwing it every which way. When he looked upon the hardcover, real paper book inside, he looked as though he might cry. “The complete works of William Shakespeare,” he said, and ran his fingers over the creamy paper that the words were written on. “It’s beautiful. Thanks!”
They spent the remainder of the evening together, quietly talking. When Spock got up to leave, Jim followed him to the door, where they paused to say goodnight. Turning, something above him caught Spock’s eye, and he said, quite surprised, “Captain, someone has placed mistletoe at the door to your room.”
Jim looked up, and then his face reddened. “So they have. Uhm, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow for Beta shift?”
“You explained to me earlier that there are no exceptions to the rule that you must kiss if meeting someone else under mistletoe.” A cherry-faced Jim parted his lips, presumably to argue that point, but was unable to, because Spock had leaned forward and was kissing him. Spock found that the position their lips had landed in was not the most efficient, and brought up a hand, gently holding Jim’s jaw still as he tilted his own ever so slightly. He could tell when the angle was right for maximum pleasure, because Jim groaned quietly into his mouth.
The sound made Spock want to shiver, but he repressed that, and concentrated instead on the kiss. One of Jim’s arms had come up to wrap around Spock’s waist and press against his back, and Spock moved his own hand to press through Jim’s hair. Humans were very soft; he knew this from the little experience he’d had touching them, and Jim was no exception. His lips were plump and soft, and he made an exquisite noise as Spock caught the lower one between his teeth and pulled slightly. Before he knew it, tongues were involved, twining around each other even as their arms wrapped their bodies together.
It only ended when Jim pulled back. He had not been breathing sufficiently through his nose, Spock realised, and of course humans were not as efficient with air intake as Vulcans were. They remained locked in an embrace for a short while longer before Spock stepped back and corrected the position of his shirt. “Forgive me if that was inappropriate,” he said to a confused looking Captain.
“No,” gasped Jim, “that was fine.” There was an awkward pause, “Do you kiss everyone you meet under mistletoe like that? That...intensely?”
Spock replied simply, “no.”
“I...” Jim paused, and then said, quickly, “I think my wish just came true.” Spock knew immediately that Jim referred to the Yanarian Hope Day, and regarded him with gentle eyes. Jim’s eyes flicked up to the mistletoe and then back to Spock, “Spock, did you...?” his voice faded out and he shook his head, “Never mind.”
Red started to rise in Jim’s complexion again. Spock wondered if that skin would be warmer to touch than usual. “Well, good night and Merry Christmas,” Jim said, “And...uhh, so that you know,” his voice dropped, though there was no one in the hallway to hear him, “It would be more than alright if you ever wanted to do that again.” Looking surprised at his own forwardness, Jim looked to the floor and then retreated into the safety of his quarters.
Spock stood out in the hallway for much too long, and found himself dreaming that night of soft pink lips and golden skin.
//
December 31st
New Year’s Eve - Earth
Spock usually attended New Year’s Eve parties, if for no other reason than to observe the fireworks typically present at such celebrations.
This year was by far the best.
It was Earth tradition to kiss the one you loved when the New Year began. Good luck, Jim told him, and although the concept was illogical (luck was nothing but a series of probability and coincidences), Spock found he didn’t mind.
They kissed as the clock ticked over, and Spock found he didn’t mind missing the fireworks at all.
January 1st
“So...?” Jim asked him when they separated and still held each other. At Spock’s inquisitive look, he went on, “Which holiday do you like best in the end then?”
There was a pause whilst Spock contemplated, and then he answered, as truthfully as he could, “Any holiday I spend with you.”
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Rating: PG
Length: 8,252
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: A series of celebrations throughout the year. Written for ksadvent2009
Notes:
Part One can be found here.
//
July 24th
The Gratitude Festival/Peldor Festival - Bajor
Spock greeted Jim in the hallway with, “Peldor Joi,” and was rewarded by a big smile.
“Now you’re getting into the spirit!” he proclaimed, and led the way to the bridge. There was already an official celebration happening, organized by Lieutenant Uhura, and so after their shift, they went to join it. It was a simple ceremony, there not being a lot of resources on the ship. They certainly couldn’t light a bonfire on the ship, so they had compromised.
Instead of a fire, there was a large metal dish in the middle of Rec Room C. There was paper and pens, and incense that gave off the scent of Bateret leaves. All in all, it seemed a quiet ceremony, which Spock appreciated greatly after the last couple of weeks.
They had had a run of dangerous and important missions. It recently seemed as though every routine planet check was destined to become a near-death experience for either the Captain or Spock, and they had lost three brave officers in the last two weeks. Spock had spent a truly staggering amount of time in sickbay, mostly watching over the Captain who was being kept on enforced sick leave. As a result, this particular ceremony was very welcome. Spock wasn’t sure whether it was celebrated this way on Bajor, having never been, but this way seemed appropriate for the sombre attitude prevalent on the ship recently.
People were writing their troubles on paper and then folding it. They would light it on fire and drop it into the bowl, watching as it crumbled to ash. There was already quite a bit of ash in the bottom of the bowl. “Do you have a trouble you’d like to burn?” asked Jim, holding out a pen and a piece of paper. Spock took it and watched as Jim smiled and then braced his paper against his hand and began writing.
Jim wrote one, two, three, as Spock watched, all on separate pieces of paper, folding them up neatly and then looking at his First Officer. He smiled slightly, almost awkwardly at him and Spock was struck by the angles of his face and the golden hue of his skin. Tearing his eyes away, Spock pressed his paper into his left hand and held his old-fashioned ink pen and he wrote, “This inexplicable emotion.”
He folded it, and then they walked to the metal bowl together. They lit their troubles and threw them in, watching as the paper curled and burned underneath the flame. Afterwards, Jim pressed his hand to Spock’s arm and looked into his eyes, and Spock felt warm inside.
//
August 12th
Federation Day - Various
After ‘Fizzbin’, Jim continued to show his ability to make up nonsensical card games.
After insisting that there needed to be something more to celebrate Federation Day, he had ordered all the senior staff to report to Recreation Room B to play poker. He had also, apparently, decided to make up a new version of poker, which he called ‘Federation Day Poker,’ and was exceptionally difficult to play.
Despite the game being illogical, it seemed to catch on quite well with the crew. With so many cards being wild cards, it was almost impossible to know what you had in your hand, and led to many friendly arguments about who won each round. People constantly had “four of a kind”, or straight flushes, depending on what they decided each card was worth. It led to a very interesting evening.
By the end of the night, Spock had taken most of the pot, and everyone else went home talking about Federation Day.
//
September 2nd
Rumarie - Vulcan
“Spock,” Jim said over the chess table one night.
When no information seemed like it was forthcoming, Spock replied, “Yes, Jim?”
“I thought you said there were no Vulcan holidays.”
“If you recall, I believe that I told you that there were only two Vulcan holidays that are still celebrated. Tal-Shanar and Kal Rekk.”
Jim’s mouth was stretching into a one-sided smile, and this immediately put Spock on his guard. “Well,” said Jim, “What do you know about old holidays? You know...traditional holidays that maybe aren’t celebrated anymore.”
Spock hoped fervently that this wasn’t going where he thought it was going. Then he reminded himself that that was illogical and answered, “I know most of the ancient Vulcan traditions.”
“How about Rumarie?”
His pronunciation was appalling, but nevertheless, Spock knew what he was talking about. “That has not been observed since the early fourteenth century.”
“Why not?”
The answer was fairly obvious for anyone who knew what Rumarie entailed, and so Spock didn’t say anything, and watched as his Captain’s smile widened even further. “So,” said the human, leaning forward, “There’s no real reason that Vulcans don’t celebrate it anymore.”
“No, sir,” Spock said, feeling suddenly out of his depth.
“Why don’t we then? I’m game.”
“Captain, Rumarie would be quite inappropriate for the two of us to celebrate alone.”
“You’re saying you wouldn’t like to get half naked with me, cover us both in grease and then chase me around, trying to pin me to the floor?”
Unfortunately, that image was very pleasing to Spock, and it nearly tempted him to agree to celebrate. Nevertheless, his resolve was much stronger than his sex drive, and he shook his head, “It would not be a true celebration of Rumarie unless we were on Vulcan.”
“Oh, come on, we celebrate lots of other festivals without actually being on those planets. It’s not like we were on Yanar for the Hope Festival.” Jim actually looked disappointed, and Spock had to remind himself that that was most likely because he was being denied a chance to participate in this ceremony which would undoubtedly be enjoyable for him, rather than because he wanted to get pinned beneath Spock. An image floated into the Vulcan’s head of attempting to hold down a slippery Jim as he wriggled and tried to get free.
He squashed that.
“Those festivals do not require you to be on the planet. Rumarie, like many other Vulcan celebrations, is tied in integrally to the location. It would be impossible to find the Rillian teaberry melon to make the grease anywhere else, and the chant prior to the...festival activities requires a Vulcan temple.”
Jim looked crestfallen, and Spock had to wonder whether Jim actually knew that Rumarie often entailed sex. It was meant to be a representation of chasing down one’s desired mate, and having to keep them in your grasp, despite the slickness of their flesh. Jim couldn’t have known that when he suggested it, could he? If he had, it must be another joke.
Sometimes it was hard to tell when Jim was joking.
//
September 26th:
Day of Adoration - Weron
Jim gave almost everyone he ran into a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Including Bones. Excepting Spock.
Vulcans don’t get jealous, he had to remind himself.
//
November 16th
Prixin - Talax
“You know, Bones often complains that we spend all our time together. He says I need to get out more.”
“Is that so?” asked Spock, not looking up from where he was working on a delicate piece of equipment. He and Lieutenant-Commander Scott were trying to optimize the communication devices, and it was tricky work.
Jim was sitting nearby, reading. They were in the same room, but not participating in any activity together. There was no real reason for this, but he suspected that it might just be to spend time in the same room. If Jim needed that, then Spock would oblige him. It was not at all disagreeable to him; particularly after the busy and stressful day they’d had, taking care of civil unrest on what was supposed to be an un-populated planet. “He was whining that we’re like an old married couple, only without the bickering.”
“Given that we are not in a relationship in any way like that of marriage, I fail to see the basis for such a comment.”
“I know!” Jim exclaimed, lifting his hands in emphasis. “It’s like we can’t see each other too often, or we’re not allowed to just be friends anymore. I can’t help it that we’re pretty much family.”
“Is that why you have chosen to spend three out of the five days of Prixin with me thus far?”
Jim sat upright. “I totally forgot!” he exclaimed in dismay. Clearly he had been too busy to remember the holiday, and Spock didn’t blame him. He tilted his head slightly.
“It is just as well then,” the First Officer said in a low voice, as he turned and opened the drawer near his desk, “that you have a Vulcan for a First Officer.”
“Just as well!” Jim exclaimed, smiling as Spock placed a bowl in front of him. Spock was beginning to think that perhaps Jim’s smiles were the most beautiful in the universe, frequent and fleeting though they were. He watched as the spoon passed Jim’s lips, and saw how his eyes lit up when he tasted it. “Fruit in moolt nectar? Spock, you spoil me!”
“On the contrary, to spoil is to impair, damage, or harm the character or nature of someone by unwise treatment or excessive indulgence. I do not see your character becoming tainted, and it is certainly not excessive indulgence if you deserve it.”
He was graced with another smile. “To be honest,” Jim said, “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend Prixin with.” There was a contented silence for a while as they ate their treats, Jim positively glowing with pleasure. “Do you happen to know the salutation, by any chance?” he asked Spock, after a while.
Spock, of course, did, and recited it to an enthralled Jim.
"We do not stand alone. We are in the arms of family: the Enterprise and each other. We gather this day to extol the warmth and joy of those unshakable bonds. Without them we could not call ourselves complete. On this day we are thankful to be together. We do not stand alone."
“Thanks Spock,” Jim said, “Ditto all of that right back at you.”
“Thank you, Jim,” Spock said.
//
December 25th:
Christmas - Earth
Jim liked Christmas. It was a familiar tradition. As far as he knew, his family had always celebrated it. Some of his best memories from childhood had always been Christmas day, possibly the only time his family had ever really been together. And so it was that he was happy to share the celebration with his family on the Enterprise.
The day was very festive. Lieutenants Webb and Saito had, very enthusiastically, decorated much of the Enterprise hallways, and spent most of their days randomly breaking out into song. Jim only knew about half of them, and got officially banned from singing after he joined in on one verse of ‘jingle bells’.
Though the hat was irritating, as the fluffy bobble on the end kept swinging about whenever he shifted in his seat, it was worth it for the way Spock’s eyes followed the swinging motion. “Your hat is most illogical,” he told Jim at lunch time as the other man ate turkey and roast potatoes.
“You should try mince pies,” Jim told him instead, gesturing at him with his fork instead of arguing the point (because, to be honest, the hat was illogical). “I think you’d like them. They were originally made with meat, but not usually anymore. Or,” the Captain’s face lit up, and he smiled, “Candy canes.”
“I do not understand why you eat these foods on this day. What is the origin of the tradition?”
“Don’t know,” said Jim, and filled his mouth with turkey and stuffing, “Didn’t you ever have a Christmas at home?”
“My mother usually had a small celebration, but it was never as elaborate as the festivities which have been taking place today,” Spock delicately sipped his vegetable soup, “And I never attended any Christmas commemoration during my time on Earth. It simply did not interest me.”
“Does it interest you now?”
Spock considered this, and then decided that yes, it did, primarily as it was apparently an integral part of Jim’s childhood. “I am curious to learn more about other cultures and their customs.”
“I still think you should explore yours more. Rumarie? I’m telling you, that’d be the perfect way to explore culture and customs!” Jim laughed, voice muffled by the stuffing in his mouth.
The Vulcan chose to answer this with a steady blank stare.
Jim laughed. “Okay, fine, I’ll let that slide for now.”
It was impossible not to note the “for now” on the end of that sentence. Spock frowned ever so slightly, but his mind was forced to change tracks when Jim started waving something long, painted with red and white stripes with a hook at the end directly in front of his face. “What is this?” he asked.
“Candy cane,” Jim handed it to him, and began to unwrap his own. Spock watched with fascination as he peeled off the plastic and stuck one end in his mouth. He didn’t appear to bite down, and by the hollowing of his cheeks, Spock could surmise that he was sucking on the candy. Delicately, he unwrapped half of his own cane, as Jim had done, and placed it in his mouth. The resulting taste was interesting. It was minty, but obviously primarily made of sugar.
At Jim’s expectant look, he removed the confectionary from his mouth, “It has a pleasing taste, but is most likely to be lacking in the proper nutrients required to call this ‘food.’”
“That’s why it’s called candy,” said the Captain, without removing the stick. It was pressed into his left cheek so that he could talk, and the hook distorted the skin of his cheek in a fascinating way. “You’re not supposed to eat it for nutrition, just for taste.”
“I see,” said Spock, finding this wholly illogical, but nevertheless, putting the processed sugar stick back into his mouth. The two of them sat in relative quiet for a while, sucking on their candy canes. Jim looked delighted. Spock was not sure why. The taste was pleasant, but there were certainly other foods that were better. Eventually, Jim crunched off the end of the cane with the side of his teeth. Spock couldn’t determine whether they were molars or pre-molars, but nevertheless, copied the gesture as best he could, and then they rewrapped the end of the candy cane.
“Don’t have time to eat it all now,” said Jim, standing, “so we save it for later. I don’t know how professional you’ll look on the bridge eating a candy cane.”
Spock couldn’t argue with that logic, though he did have another concern, “I do not believe that this is a very hygienic manner of saving our candy canes. There is a good chance of bacteria growing in the dampness left by our saliva.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be eating them soon enough. I’m sure our digestive systems can handle any bacteria that grow in that time.” Jim took his tray to the conveyor, placing it there so it could be cleaned in the back room. Spock did the same and then they made their way to the bridge.
It was a relatively normal shift. Spock spent much of it in the engineering section, helping Lieutenant-Commander Scott to recalibrate some of the engine sensors. Since Spock had signed up to cover the first half of Beta shift - allowing others to drop in on the Christmas party being held in the main mess hall, he went to the bridge at approximately 1600 to find a jubilant captain twirling in his chair. “Spock!” he exclaimed, “How was Engineering?”
“It has not changed since the last time you visited,” said Spock and then followed the Captain’s gaze to above his own head, quickly moving when he realised that there was a plant hanging above him, “Is this a decoration?” he asked the Captain, who smiled slyly.
“Mistletoe,” Captain Kirk told him.
“I see. And what is its significance?” the Vulcan asked as he stepped down to stand beside the command chair.
“Christmas tradition,” Jim leant forward and lowered his voice, as if sharing a confidential piece of information with his First Officer, “If two people stand underneath it at the same time, they have to kiss each other.”
“Fascinating,” said Spock, looking at the plant more closely, not moving from where he stood, “And there are no exceptions to this rule?”
“No, Mr. Spock, there aren’t.”
“Hmmm,” said Spock and then moved to sit in the Captain’s chair as the Captain got up.
“Now Spock,” said Jim, cocking his head, “You’re going to promise me that you’ll come to the party at 2200, right? Right after your shift ends, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Spock told him, and was rewarded by a satisfied-looking expression on his Captain’s face. The man turned to leave, pausing only to say, “Don’t linger too long getting into the Turbo-lift.”
He was obviously referring to the mistletoe, and Spock looked at it again, warily, as Jim disappeared into the lift.
Spock reported to the mess at 2203, as requested by Captain Kirk. When he got there, he found that the party was already in full swing. People were dancing, laughing and eating, and drinks seemed to be in everyone’s hands. Immediately feeling out of place, Spock gravitated towards one of the walls, only to be halted by Jim appearing at his elbow. He seemed slightly intoxicated, though certainly no more than tipsy, and was smiling widely from ear to ear. “Spock! I’m glad you made it! Have some eggnog!”
A cup was slapped into his hand, the liquid inside it nearly sloshing out. Raising it, Spock sniffed at it delicately, and at Jim’s insistence, took a sip.
“What do you think?” asked Jim, and Spock considered, trying it again.
“I’m uncertain whether I like the taste or not. It is very peculiar.”
“Fascinating, almost,” Jim said, grinning, and Spock agreed.
The party ended up speeding by as Jim, as usual, made for very enthralling conversation. Soon it was 0100, and the room began to empty out. It was not long before it was just Jim and Spock, left sitting at a table on one side of the room. “It almost makes me sad to see the aftermath of parties,” said Jim, looking sadly at the tinsel and decimated food table.
“How illogical of you,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow.
The captain got up and wandered over, idly stacking plates and putting them on the conveyor, “I don’t know, it’s just like the decorations are lonely.” He laughed, more a huff of air than anything, and then brightened as he seemed to remember something, “I need to give you your present. Come to my quarters!”
“I shall visit my quarters first, to retrieve your gift, and then join you.”
Jim nodded and they left the mess hall. It was approximately four point nine minutes later that they were together in Jim’s quarters, sitting one on either side of the desk, the presents sitting atop the surface between them. The Captain pushed his over eagerly, looking at Spock expectantly and smiling again.
Obligingly, Spock took the present, and began un-wrapping it as delicately as possible, not tearing the paper on it and removing it gently. It was impossible to miss how Jim’s eyes were riveted on his fingers as he did it. Opening the box found within the paper, Spock felt warmth bubble up in his chest as he recognized the instrument contained within. It was a Vulcan pan-flute, the construction lovely and the sound, when he blew it, clear and sharp.
“I know you like music and play the lyre often, so I wanted to let you expand your collection of instruments.”
Spock tipped his head and gave Jim a half-smile, “Thank you, Jim.”
“You’re welcome,” said Jim, and took the present from Spock when he gave it to him. He, contrary to Spock, tore the paper off, throwing it every which way. When he looked upon the hardcover, real paper book inside, he looked as though he might cry. “The complete works of William Shakespeare,” he said, and ran his fingers over the creamy paper that the words were written on. “It’s beautiful. Thanks!”
They spent the remainder of the evening together, quietly talking. When Spock got up to leave, Jim followed him to the door, where they paused to say goodnight. Turning, something above him caught Spock’s eye, and he said, quite surprised, “Captain, someone has placed mistletoe at the door to your room.”
Jim looked up, and then his face reddened. “So they have. Uhm, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow for Beta shift?”
“You explained to me earlier that there are no exceptions to the rule that you must kiss if meeting someone else under mistletoe.” A cherry-faced Jim parted his lips, presumably to argue that point, but was unable to, because Spock had leaned forward and was kissing him. Spock found that the position their lips had landed in was not the most efficient, and brought up a hand, gently holding Jim’s jaw still as he tilted his own ever so slightly. He could tell when the angle was right for maximum pleasure, because Jim groaned quietly into his mouth.
The sound made Spock want to shiver, but he repressed that, and concentrated instead on the kiss. One of Jim’s arms had come up to wrap around Spock’s waist and press against his back, and Spock moved his own hand to press through Jim’s hair. Humans were very soft; he knew this from the little experience he’d had touching them, and Jim was no exception. His lips were plump and soft, and he made an exquisite noise as Spock caught the lower one between his teeth and pulled slightly. Before he knew it, tongues were involved, twining around each other even as their arms wrapped their bodies together.
It only ended when Jim pulled back. He had not been breathing sufficiently through his nose, Spock realised, and of course humans were not as efficient with air intake as Vulcans were. They remained locked in an embrace for a short while longer before Spock stepped back and corrected the position of his shirt. “Forgive me if that was inappropriate,” he said to a confused looking Captain.
“No,” gasped Jim, “that was fine.” There was an awkward pause, “Do you kiss everyone you meet under mistletoe like that? That...intensely?”
Spock replied simply, “no.”
“I...” Jim paused, and then said, quickly, “I think my wish just came true.” Spock knew immediately that Jim referred to the Yanarian Hope Day, and regarded him with gentle eyes. Jim’s eyes flicked up to the mistletoe and then back to Spock, “Spock, did you...?” his voice faded out and he shook his head, “Never mind.”
Red started to rise in Jim’s complexion again. Spock wondered if that skin would be warmer to touch than usual. “Well, good night and Merry Christmas,” Jim said, “And...uhh, so that you know,” his voice dropped, though there was no one in the hallway to hear him, “It would be more than alright if you ever wanted to do that again.” Looking surprised at his own forwardness, Jim looked to the floor and then retreated into the safety of his quarters.
Spock stood out in the hallway for much too long, and found himself dreaming that night of soft pink lips and golden skin.
//
December 31st
New Year’s Eve - Earth
Spock usually attended New Year’s Eve parties, if for no other reason than to observe the fireworks typically present at such celebrations.
This year was by far the best.
It was Earth tradition to kiss the one you loved when the New Year began. Good luck, Jim told him, and although the concept was illogical (luck was nothing but a series of probability and coincidences), Spock found he didn’t mind.
They kissed as the clock ticked over, and Spock found he didn’t mind missing the fireworks at all.
January 1st
“So...?” Jim asked him when they separated and still held each other. At Spock’s inquisitive look, he went on, “Which holiday do you like best in the end then?”
There was a pause whilst Spock contemplated, and then he answered, as truthfully as he could, “Any holiday I spend with you.”