AN: Merry Christmas, Kalanel!
Christmas Kisses
Christmas was a holiday that Spock had always found intriguing. In particular, he was fascinated by the way that his human colleagues' faces seemed quicker to smile during this 'festive season' than at any other; the way that they unfailingly worked themselves into a dither over the choosing and giving of gifts; the seemingly endless social gatherings; the many traditions and customs that were observed and the oddly amusing way that the humans' excitement became so incredibly infectious that it inspired the non-human people around them to become likewise excited and smiley and dithery.
Spock liked to consider himself one of the few members of the Enterprise crew who managed to retain his dignity at this feverish time of year. That said, he did indulge his close friends by presenting each with a gift. This year he was supremely confident that his choice in gifts would not cause the scandalous uproar they had the previous year (his attempt at selecting novelty gifts would not be repeated any time soon).
He was on his way to see the quartermaster in ship's stores to collect the delivery he had been expecting from Earth. An ensign scurried past him in the corridor, chattering rapidly into her communicator and he forgave her the lack of proper acknowledgment; as fascinating as Christmas was to him, he had observed that it had the uncanny ability to transform usually quiet, conscientious officers into proverbial gorgons and had he attempted to reprimand her he may have left the encounter minus a limb.
Entering stores he observed Lieutenant Uhura off to one side, arguing with a dispatcher over something he could not see, that was held on the counter between the bridge officer and the unfortunate man on the receiving end of her wrath. Not sparing a second thought to his colleague's fiery temper and the sort of verbal diatribe she may be unleashing upon the poor dispatcher, he approached the quartermaster's counter and nodded his thanks to the junior officers who moved to one side for him, advancing him to the head of the queue. Rank had its illogical perks and this was one he was happy to flex; he had no wish to remain a moment longer than necessary in what was currently the busiest and most tense room on the ship. Handing over his data chit, he was given a modestly sized package in return, which he quickly signed for and tucked under his arm.
Heading for the door as quickly as decorum allowed, he was almost home free when a familiar whine reached his sensitive ears.
"But you don't understand, it's not Christmas without it!"
Internally heaving a world weary sigh, he lamented the loss of a quick exit and veered off to the left, coming to a halt at Lieutenant Uhura's side. "Is there a problem here, lieutenant?"
She turned to face him, the fire in her eyes at odds with the sad pout on her lips. "There certainly is, Mister Spock. Yeoman Zhirgank here," she jerked an angry thumb at the hapless dispatcher who rolled his eyes now that she couldn't see him, "confused the order that I placed last week and now it's too late to get what I need."
Spock cocked his head curiously, so she held up a plant for him to see. "That appears to be a sample of Genus Ilex, family Aquifoliaceae; what I understand to be considered a very festive piece of foliage."
Uhura smirked widely and turned her triumphant expression on Yeoman Zhirgank. "See? It's holly, like I've been trying to tell you for the last ten minutes!"
Zhirgank shrugged and made an open handed 'I don't know' gesture. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I'll admit, maybe I made a mistake and I'm sorry, but like I told you before, it's too late for me to do anything about it. There won't be another incoming shipment from Earth until next week."
Uhura sneered and picked up her holly plant along with her other packages and turned to leave. Spock raised an apologetic eyebrow at Yeoman Zhirgank who grimaced conspiratorially in return, he too had seen the women onboard turn into monsters over the past few weeks. Moving to follow his now cranky crew-mate, Spock fell into step alongside her as they both headed to the crew quarters.
"May I ask, Lieutenant Uhura, why it is such an inconvenience that you were sent the incorrect plant? Holly is commonly used as a festive decoration and indeed is the focal point of many Christmas items."
She grimaced again, "You can't hang holly over a doorway."
Spock frowned, this cryptic response was not quite what he had expected. Surely any sturdy plant could be displayed in such a manner? He was about to ask for clarification when she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and he overshot her by a couple of steps. Turning back to see why she had stopped, he found her staring at one of the doorways lining the corridor. There was a sprig of some sort of terran plant with white berries hung from the frame and she was almost salivating as she stared at it. He watched as she snapped a quick glance both ways down the corridor and, seeing that they were alone, she leaped up and snagged the plant from the doorway.
As soon as she had landed, her prize clasped tightly in her fingers, she ran towards him, "Quick, quick, quick!" She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him bodily away from the scene of the crime, all the time hissing at him to move faster. They reached her quarters and she quickly keyed the pad before shoving him in ahead of her. The door slid closed and she hopped up and down in glee, the tiny sprig of green clutched possessively in both hands in front of her. "We did it!"
Spock was thoroughly confused. "What exactly did we do, Lieutenant? Beside commit petty crime, that is."
"This, Spock, is mistletoe," she skipped over the accusation of theft, hoping to distract him with exuberance, "this is what I ordered from ship's stores. It really isn't Christmas without a sprig of mistletoe over your door!"
"It would appear then, that you have stolen Christmas from the officer whose property you have taken."
"Oh, Spock, don't be such a killjoy." She turned away from him to hang the mistletoe safely inside her door, where no other like-minded opportunist could steal it from her. "Come here, let me reward you for your unwitting help in getting me my mistletoe." She took his package and placed it on a side table before taking his hands and leading him to stand under the freshly suspended plant.
Spock looked up at the criminal evidence over his head and was about to tell her off again, when he felt her hands on his face, tilting his head back down to where she could kiss him.
She was kissing him.
Spock hadn't been kissed in quite a while and the lack of warning meant he had no time to establish any sort of mental preparation for the flood of telepathic input that always accompanied such encounters. His response to the sudden affectionate pressure against his lips was untempered and raw. His arms came about her firmly to pull her body flush with his and after a short squeak of surprise, her arms snaked up to loop around his neck. Spock's trousers quickly became uncomfortably restrictive and he moaned a soft protest into her mouth at the fabric holding him captive.
Nyota's head was swimming, all she had intended to do was give him a quick, friendly, tongue-free kiss in thanks, yet here they were, his tongue becoming rather well-acquainted with hers and her knees turning to mush. How had this happened exactly? He moaned into her mouth and suddenly the reason was unimportant.