1. Cranberry
'Phhhhhtooo!'
That was the sound of Gaila spitting a small ovoid berry into the sink.
"Aaagh! Yek! You humans are weird. That's the most disgusting thing I ever tasted. I might be poisoned." She rubbed her tongue on the back of her hand, screwing up her eyes. "What do you eat that for? It's worse than Denebian slime-devil eggs. I'm dying!"
"Gaila, don't be such a drama queen, you're not supposed to eat them raw, I have to cook them, and nobody eats Denebian slime-devil eggs." Her room mate prodded Gaila with the handle of a wooden spoon.
"Do too! I ate them on survival training."
Uhura plucked the colander of drained berries from the counter and tipped its contents into a pan. "They need sugar, and cinnamon, and orange juice, and some cloves. I like a little chilli-heat in mine."
"Humph!" Gaila folded her arms beneath her breasts and peered into the pan. "Got any wing of sand-bat or eye of Gorn in there? Can't you get this yuk from the replicator?"
"Well I could, but I'm making it for Leonard McCoy, he says the replicator stuff smells like wet diaper."
"Oh." Gaila's eyes widened. "Can I take it to him?"
2. Holly Berry
"Careful lass, it's spiky."
Gaila's hand is stopped in its path by an accent – and a word – she doesn't recognise so she asks; "What's a lass?"
"Eh, oh, uh..."
Men often do that, so she just waits for him to form an answer.
"It's Scottish for a girl." The man is short, but he has a kind face and he's holding some type of amber liquid sparkling in a crystal glass. There is a silence between them, and Gaila remembers humans don't like this, so she waves a hand at the garland she tried to touch.
"What's this?"
"It's holly, we put it up at Christmas, for decoration."
"Why?" Sometimes, people look at her as if she's deliberately trying to exasperate them by asking why all the time, but she's not, she wants to learn. The short man doesn't look at her that way, instead he swirls his glass and takes a small sip.
"Ancient peoples used to think holly was magic, because it stayed green all winter, didn't go brown. You know?"
She thinks his question is rhetorical, but she nods anyway.
"So in the cold months, when the wind was howling and the beams were creaking and the flames in the lamps were flickering," he takes another sip, "they thought it was ghosties and and ghoulies and long-legged beasties, and things that go bump in the night."
Gaila has not one clue what he means, but his voice is so warm that she keeps nodding.
"They hung holly for protection from spirits and demons, and we keep the tradition at Christmas."
"It's pretty."
"Aye, some folks say red and green don't go together, but I think it looks great." His eyes flick to her for a second, he takes a gulp of his drink and clears his throat. "Sorry, that was cheesy."
She laughs, "Want to dance?"
"You haven't seen me dance, but aye, OK." Then he puts his drink down, and his finger up to his lips.
From his pocket he takes a small laser multi-tool, shears off two leaves and a few berries, and tucks them into her epaulette.