A/N: This story was inspired by an actual ornament on my Christmas tree this year (: For those of you following Proof, Chapter 6 is almost finished.
ALSO: Watch out for a new project I'm working on called The Girdle. It's Marvel, and multi-chaptered, but I'm gonna keep any other details mostly under-wraps until I can finish more of it. Thanks!
XOXO, Helix.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, Pringles, or Party City.
"Warning. Large obstruction located on the hull. Warning."
"This is all your fault, Spock!"
"I don't see how," Spock replied simply. Alarm klaxons wailed annoyingly around them.
"Of course you don't!" Kirk roared. He pulled a young officer aside by his sleeve. "Get everybody out there and working on getting that thing off the hull! Now, please!"
"Yessir!"
"What I find confusing is why humans put dying trees inside of their homes in the last season of their solar year," Spock observed.
Kirk squeezed his eyes shut.
"Spock."
"Yes?"
Don't lose it. Don't lose it.
"It's called a Christmas Tree. It's for fun. I didn't think you knew what that was, but clearly it's something you've been having too much of lately!"
Spock sniffed. "I think you're being a bit hypocritical-"
"Don't you dare come after me about duty!" Kirk screeched. "We're an ornament, Spock! Do you realize that? Our ninety-thousand-ton spaceship is dangling at what might as well be hundreds of feet above the ground!"
"It's really only five feet at most-"
"Not when we're the size of a Pringle!"
"I don't know what that is," Spock pointed out levelly.
"I don't care." And Kirk wasn't done. "There's a needle on my hull! Because apparently whoever lives here doesn't water their tree enough! And because you and Uhura were making eyes at each other when you were supposed to be doing your jobs."
Spock tried again. "How could I have known that the coordinates that Uhura gave me were the incorrect ones, or that my hand would slip on the ship's compressor button, and a supposed malfunction would send us through, unbeknownst to us, a wormhole to a house on Earth?"
"I don't know, Spock," Kirk gritted. "But you had better fix it."
He stormed out, red in the face even without help from the pulsing emergency lights.
Spock turned to watch hundreds crewmembers spill out of the maintenance entrances onto the hull. Judging by the little flashes of light at the base of it, some were using their phasers to help break up the office-building-sized needle into smaller pieces for easier removal.
Uhura winked at him from across the bridge, and shrugged as if to say, oh well.
Their well-intentioned plan to give Kirk a Christmas that wasn't in Outer Space had fallen through, but Spock supposed there was always next year.
If you feel inspired to do so, please review!