Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Beta:
triskellion (any remaining mistakes are all mine)
Rating: PG
Pairings: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: implied mpreg, implied character death
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I’ve been really good this year. Maybe Santa will bring me Kirk and Spock as a present ;)
Summary: On Christmas Eve Spock wanders through the Kirk family home, and remembers other Christmases he and Jim have spent together. Set in the Everything’s Relative universe.
This is my fic entry for the
ksadvent. Also anyone who wants to read Everything's Relative it's a work in progress and is at the KS Archive
here “Admit it, Spock. For people like us the journey itself…is home.”
I’ll be Home for Christmas
Spock made his way along the upstairs hallway of the Kirk farmhouse, the jaunty lyrics of one of Jim’s old Christmas tapes filling the air.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Everywhere you go
Spock had to agree that those lyrics were accurate. Large snowflakes were beginning to fall outside, strings of Christmas lights framed all the windows, and the soft feeling of…peace seemed to have filled the old house.
Spock’s thoughts broke off as a loud squeak filled the hallway, emitted from a toy he had just stepped on, despite the fact that he had told the children to clean them up.
And mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again
Sighing Spock picked up the stuffed creature and went into the nearest room to put it on the dresser.
He stood in the room for a while, letting old memories flow through his mind. This had been Jim’s room when he was a child. Much had changed since then, of course. The single bed had been replaced with a double one, but it still was right under the skylight. Jim had told Spock how he used to lay there at night and dream of how he would one day travel to all the stars he could see.
This was also the room they stayed in when they had spent the holidays with Jim’s family. Spock thought the room was rather quaint, and he had planned for their children to sleep here as well, but they spent the last two nights sleeping on the couch downstairs instead.
They wanted to wait up for Santa Claus they had said when Spock questioned them about their decision. He had explained to them again that the holiday figure would only come on Christmas Eve but they were determined.
“Without proper technology, one elderly man in a reindeer drawn sleigh cannot cover the globe in one night. So, there stands a 67.45% probability that he will come and visit us early and we want to be ready.”
They had sounded so thoroughly pleased with themselves for figuring that out, and Spock couldn’t really fault their logic. Shaking his head, he went down the stairs, where tiny hands had wrapped glittering beads around the railing.
Crossing the living room, Spock knelt down, checking on the fire. Spock remembered that he developed a bad cold the first time he had spent Christmas here with Jim. He had kept him firmly by the fireplace, getting anything he could possibly need, and several things that he hadn’t. Spock mused about how thoughtful Jim had always been to him, as the music continued playing.
The holly green, the ivy green
The prettiest picture you’ve ever seen
Is Christmas in Killarney with all of the folks at home
Spock suppressed a shudder. Now there was a song best forgotten, but as he was a Vulcan that was not to be. As the song continued, Spock remembered the first Christmas he and Jim had celebrated together on the Enterprise. Mr. Scott and Kevin Riley had consumed far too much eggnog, generously spiked with rum, and had begun to sing the first two lines of that song, but could not remember the rest. They had made exactly twenty-three attempts to get to the next line before they had fallen asleep at their table, at long last.
Despite occurrences like that celebrating with the crew had always been pleasing to Spock. Perhaps that was why the Christmas after the Klingon peace conference, when they had celebrated the holiday as a crew for the last time, was so important to him. Spock remembered the holiday fondly. Uhura had sung Christmas carols. Chekov had given everyone Russian nesting dolls as presents. Doctor McCoy had, though he would deny it to command if they asked, put a note in Sulu’s file that he had contracted Andorian shingles and would not be available for active duty until at least a week into the New Year. With that arranged, the seven of them had remained together for the New Year as well, going to McCoy’s old family home in Atlanta.
Spock closed his eyes, letting himself go back to that time when the future had seemed wonderful and full of possibilities…
McCoy’s home was bustling with people. Their friends had brought their families with them and young kids ran around as the adults talked among themselves. Even Joanna was around somewhere, but had disappeared among her own shipmates.
“Didn’t think you’d be one for Southern food, Spock,” Jim said, as he glanced at the assorted food items piling up on Spock’s plate from the buffet.
“I wish to indulge,” Spock said, putting another deep fried pickle in his mouth.
They traveled around the room, mingling with old friends, and each picking up a glass of champagne from the table as midnight drew closer.
When an old grandfather clocked chimed the arrival of the New Year they clinked their glasses together.
“To new beginnings,” Spock said, and sipped his drink.
“You seem to be well on your way to new beginnings, Spock. Going to follow in your father’s footsteps after all?” Jim teased.
Spock resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I wish you would not frame it quite like that.”
Jim chuckled and then said. “It isn’t a bad move in life, Spock.”
Spock nodded and took another sip of his drink. He had not made any final decisions on that. Although Jim was right diplomacy was a good move, and his father had been most helpful in allowing him to see the good that could be done in that capacity. Sarek had also worked to introduce him to people who would provide inroads to a proper career there. Still, Spock found great satisfaction in his instructive work at Starfleet, so for now he would balance both roles.
“Have you given any thoughts to your own plans, Jim?” Spock asked.
Jim shrugged. “I can’t say that I have really. I honestly was starting to think this time would never come. That everything would be constant like the sea; that we would always be on the Enterprise sailing through the stars.” Jim finished the last of his drink. “Instead of seeing her as some museum piece, or whatever it is they plan to do with her.”
Spock moved so that his shoulder touched Jim’s.
“It is not as though a ship with the name Enterprise will never sail among the stars again,” he said. “I understand they plan to launch the Enterprise B quite soon.”
Jim snorted. “I know, I’ve seen her in spacedock. Is it bad to say she looks like overly complicated soap dish?”
Jim leaned his head against Spock’s shoulder
“Not if you consider it an accurate description.”
Spock moved still closer to his husband. Jim’s arm reached behind him, letting their hands curl against Spock’s back, their fingers stroking gently.
“She will still be a fine ship, Jim.”
“I know, it’s just different, so many things are these days. She won’t be ours this time, but in time I-we will find something else; together as always.”
Spock opened his eyes and let the memory fade to the back of his mind. Going to the fridge in the kitchen he pulled out a jug. Pouring out a small mug of the drink it contained he sipped it slowly. The eggnog was a bit sweeter than he would have liked. The little ones would certainly approve of it then.
Taking his drink with him Spock looked out the window. The kids were building several items in the snow, and were away from the end of the porch where he told them to stay. He could not be cross at them though, because he so wanted this Christmas to be special for them. Although he had continued to celebrate Christmas since their birth, those celebrations had really been simple and short. This was the first Christmas when the children would be old enough to remember everything clearly. When they could help decorate and bake cookies. They had helped mix the dough and put the cookies on trays earlier, and had left the flour covered kitchen for him to clean up of course.
“A messy kitchen is a sign of a full and happy home.” Jim had quoted to him once, saying that it was his mother’s favourite line.
Winona Kirk had always said how much she enjoyed having the house full of people. Spock hoped she would have found this somewhat fitting, then. He had wanted to have more people here, but Peter and his family were away on an assignment, and Amanda could not make the trip. Spock and the kids had managed to make a comm link to her earlier in the day though, and Spock had let the children open her gifts early; and wear the sweaters she had knitted for them while they talked with her. She had looked good, all things considered.
Spock bowed his head in heavy thoughts. His mother was still so thin now. It was yet another reminder to him that her time was growing short. That she had lived a full and long life by human standards did not make the coming burden any easier to bear. But she did not wish him to be despondent over the inevitable, and so Spock would do his best not to dwell on it.
He was helped along by the buzz of the oven. He turned off the timer before pulling out the trays of cookies and letting them cool. He would let the kids decorate them. Though Spock would attest that he had many talents, artistry was not among them.
Turning off the oven, Spock went back to the window and watched as the last of the sunlight slipped down the horizon. As darkness swept over the landscape, he crossed the kitchen fully and opened the back door.
“Leonard! Amanda! It’s time to come inside. And, Leonard, put your scarf back on! An inanimate object made of frozen water is in no need of it!”
They came in quickly. Spock watched them taking off there wet outer clothes and hanging them up to dry. Their cheeks were flushed green from the cold and the ends of their black hair glistened with melting snow. When they had undressed until the bright red and green of their sweaters were visible, both of them went into the living room and curled up close to the fire. Their eyes, one set brown and the other hazel, sparkled in the soft light.
They were the greatest gift Jim had ever given him.
Spock sighed softly, letting his fingers curl around the gold chain that held the last gift Jim had ever, knowingly, given him. Over the last few years, depending on the schedules of his extended family and if a mission kept him away over the holiday, Spock had made it a tradition to open at least one gift on Christmas Eve. He had let the children open the gifts from their grandmother, but now he had something else to give them.
“Amanda, Leonard, I have something very precious to share with you,” he said, as he came over and sat down on the floor next to them.
Spock took off his pendant and held it in front of them. He pressed it open and let the image of Jim glow softly.
Christmas Eve will find me where the love light gleams
I’ll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
The End