Twas the Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the ship,
a blonde elf was stirring -
let's call him Trip.
No stockings, just socks
he'd stolen away
from the main laundry
a couple each day.
The crew were all snuggled
in their bunks fast asleep.
With T'Pol on the Bridge
the night's watch to keep.
Captain Archer gave Porthos
a scratch on the ears
and yawned, "I feel like I
could sleep for twenty years!"
T'Pol's sharp Vulcan ears
caught a strange sound
The unexpected noises
Of someone moving around.
She hurried to the Situation Room
and turned on the display
that would show any threat
that might be headed her way.
The ship was all quiet
just as it should be
except for one blonde human
in Cargo Bay Three.
With wondering eyes
she took in the strange sight
of Commander Tucker buried
Nearly up to waist height
in a tangled assortment
of mismatched socks
And small colorful bundles
he held one labeled "Phlox".
He took up a long striped garment
"He must wear 'em up to the knee,"
the Chief Engineer muttered
to himself most illogically.
I've got one for Phlox, and Hoshi,
Travis Mayweather, Malcolm Reed,
The Cap'n and Porthos -
T'Pol's is all I still need."
She'd lived among humans
so was less than surprised.
Still she wondered of what this
curious mission was comprised.
The pile shrank until he said,
"Well, that's about all.
Now to figure out how to charm
the socks off T'Pol."
From her perch on the Bridge
T'Pol watched him below
And wondered what gifts
To her sock he'd bestow.
Trip thought and he thought
while stringing lines of twinkling light
and eighty-two makeshift stockings
on this Christmas Eve night.
T'Pol considered as she watched
this human Christmas elf
who gave so much to others
asking nothing for himself.
He shouldn't be alone when
the appointed time came
the only one aboard
with no gift to claim.
She went to her console
a bright gleam in her eyes
intent on learning how to create
her own Christmas surprise.
Trip surveyed the cargo bay
his elfish work nearly done
Pretty lights and stuffed stockings
All hung up - except one.
Would a Vulcan even care?
Could she even understand?
For sure there wasn't much logic
in a starship Christmas wonderland.
She was unsure she saw the point
But then, that was often true.
It didn't really matter because now
she knew just what she would do.
Trip hid his grin as he saw her
with her pretty bare feet
she said she had a headache
only neuropressure could treat.
T'Pol helped him search for his lost sock
while her own feet were still bare.
They searched the Ready Room
but didn't find it anywhere.
His foot felt kind of funny;
he'd stuck it bare into his boot.
He'd lost a sock but he had hers
so any discomfort was moot.
T'Pol set about her mission.
There was much that she must do
to be certain that when the time came
There'd be presents for him too.
The next day the Cap'n gathered
the whole crew in Cargo Bay Three
they had carols and eggnog and stockings
No one seemed to miss the tree.
T'Pol never looked so pretty
than with his star barrettes in her hair.
He played his new harmonica
still wondering how his sock got there.
He came home later whistling
To find the best gift of all.
A hanging bunch of mistletoe,
And beneath it, a nude T'Pol.
For a second he just stared,
"How'd you know to do this?"
But she only tipped her head.
"I believe you owe me a kiss."
Trip grinned as she stood there.
"You know, I think you're right.
But then, there isn't any hurry
Pepperpot, we've got all night!"