Kirk shut the door firmly. "And good night," he said. Rubbing his hands together to warm them, he turned to face his crew.
"At last," McCoy said. He was shivering. The Aderielan delegates had made their lengthy goodbye speeches while standing outside the open doors, and the wind had been miserable.
"I didn't think they would ever leave," Sulu sounded bitter.
"They aren't sensitive to hints, are they? Well, now that they've finally gone home to bed, we can relax too," Scott said. Grabbing one of the Aderielan nestles, he dragged it toward the fire pit in the center of the room.
They were in the male visitors' house on the grounds of the Aderielan embassy. Like most buildings on the planet, it was a squat cylinder. Seeing it for the first time, Scotty had remarked that it looked like a giant cheese. They'd all laughed.
It had been days since they had found anything on Aderiel amusing.
The quarters were designed to encourage quiet days of conversation and thought, the preferred activities of Aderiel's top social rung, the contemplative class. The main doors opened into a large, round room draped in fabric. Soft lights reflected up to a ceiling only a little higher than Spock's head. Most of the furnishings were made of the same material as the nestles and arranged around the shallow pit. Bathrooms and sleep chambers were hidden behind the sound absorbing curtain walls. Most daytime activities, the meals and the long social calls that made up much of the Aderielan day, occurred around the smokeless purple fire.
It was summer, and their hosts regularly commented on the lovely weather, but the crew found it cold and wet. The wind snuck under the doors, sometimes whistling loud enough to make conversation difficult for humans, the Aderielans (also, by human standards, rather squat and cylindrical) never seemed to notice.
Scott pulled his nestle close to the fire. He sat down and let the Aderielan chair shape itself around him. He stretched his hands toward the warmth, sighing happily.
McCoy glanced at the first officer, scowled and said, "Jim, if we do nothing else, we need to heat this place up. This planet's not warm enough for man, nor beast, nor Spock."
"Doctor McCoy, you are once again demonstrating an unfortunate susceptibility to dramatic expression," Spock said. "The cold and damp are minor discomforts, and not dangerous."
"You should be wearing a coat," said the doctor, "or a sweater; do you own a cardigan?"
Spock replied, "According to Starfleet regulation, officers on duty wear dress grays during formal dinners. In the field, a standard uniform is acceptable; a cardigan is not."
"Well, I hope you feel good about putting protocol above practicality when your blood freezes solid," McCoy snapped.
"Dr. McCoy," began Spock.
The captain interrupted. "Spock's right, Bones. People stop listening when you say things like that."
"Formal dinner? That was no dinner. I'm not sure you would call it a meal, honestly." Scott's voice was muffled by the nestle which had molded to support his head.
Sulu pushed one of the Aderielan side tables close to the fire. It was long enough to serve as a bench and although still soft, firmer than a nestle. He took a seat. "I don't think you should call it food," he said. "I know they're trying to honor us by sharing, but it all tastes like flour. I'd rather eat our rations."
McCoy sat down next to Sulu but continued his discussion with Spock. "How 'bout long underwear? You could wear it under your uniform."
"Doctor, I do not require assistance to dress," Spock said firmly.
Kirk studied his first officer, eyes lingering on the unusually rigid set of his shoulders. Turning to Chekov, he said, "Go out to the yard. Get as many fuel sticks as you can carry. Use the back door and try to avoid the staff. I've had enough Aderielan visitors for today; I don't want them to come back and help."
The young man murmured an acknowledgment and scurried out the back entrance, the one that led to the embassy's work areas. The door banged loudly, caught by the wind as he left.
"I am going to make this place warm," Kirk announced, and kneeling by the pit, began to poke at the fuel cubes.
"That fire is primarily ceremonial," Spock said. His crossed arms made him appear slightly disapproving as he watched the captain from behind the others. "It is designed to represent hospitality, not to provide heat."
"Built for looks, not function," Scott agreed.
"Pretty but useless," Sulu added, "not unlike Aderiel."
"When I finish with this fire, they'll be able to feel it on the Enterprise," Kirk replied. He began carefully adding pressed fiber fuel sticks to the fire pit.
"Captain," Spock began.
"Hyperbole Spock," Kirk said quickly. "I know they won't feel it on the Enterprise." He paused, waiting for the last piece to ignite before adding more. "Take a seat. I think you'll be impressed."
"That is unlikely," Spock said. "A single fire is an inefficient way to heat a room this large." He sounded calm, disinterested even.
Kirk stood up and walked purposely to the room's single wooden chair. It looked of place among the gelatinous Aderielan furniture. The ambassadors had it delivered when they noticed Spock avoided the nestles. Kirk dragged it to the edge of the pit, pointing to it, and said firmly, "Take a seat, commander."
When Spock complied, Kirk said, "The fire is not ideal, but we don't have much choice. There's no other heat system. The Aderielans don't consider this weather unpleasant."
"I do not believe captain, that you will successfully warm this room," Spock replied.
"Well, now you've challenged him," Scotty said, sliding his boots off and dangling his stockinged feet at the very edge of the pit.
"I am going to build this fire up, and we are going to be warm," the captain said confidently. He took a large fuel cube and shoved it deep into the rocks lining the bottom of the pit so that only half of it showed. He reached back for another cube and placed it at the opposite angle, so that it leaned against the first, forming a triangle. Finally, he grabbed the last of the small cubes and dropped them into the flames at its base. They glowed lavender, then ignited.
Chekov pushed through the door with an armful of fuel cubes. He dropped them next to Kirk. They clattered like bells hitting concrete. Sulu frowned.
"Good man, Chekov," Scotty called from the depths of his chair.
"Careful playing with those things," McCoy said skeptically. "God only knows what sort of burn treatments these people have. The Aderiel are so in their heads; they'd probably expect us to sit and consider the implications of healing instead of doing something practical."
Kirk ignored him and asked, "These are split. Are there any whole ones out there?" When Chekov nodded, he continued, "Go get me the largest one you can carry." The young man hurried away.
Muttering to himself, the doctor got up and went to one of the sleep compartments that lined the circular room. He poked about, then returned holding a blanket which he dropped on the first officer's lap. Spock raised an eyebrow but did not comment. McCoy returned to the bench.
The back door slammed against the building. Chekov staggered in. He reached for the door's handle and dropped the enormous fuel cube he carried. It crashed to the floor. Chekov kicked it towards the captain, but it skidded sideways, hitting a table with a clang. Sulu snapped, "Pav, stop making so much noise."
Chekov nodded absently and pushed the cube to the captain, who said, "See the little frame I built? Help me lean that on it. It will be burning hard when the frame collapses, and hopefully, the big log will burn all night."
"It is not a log," Spock began.
"Fuel cube," the captain quickly corrected himself. "Hopefully the fuel cube will burn all night, and we won't be miserable."
"That'll be the day," McCoy muttered.
"No, it'll be the night Bones, and you should have some confidence," the captain said. "I know what I'm doing."
Chekov helped him set the unwieldy cube gently in the middle of the fire, with one edge balanced on the frame. Sparks flew, but the supports held, and slowly, the pale purple flames began to grow.
"The structure holds it up, so the log doesn't smother the flame. It's not easy to get something that big to burn," Kirk explained. Chekov nodded.
"He knows how to make a fire," Sulu said. There was a pause, then he added, "sir."
"Do you?" asked Kirk. "Why don't you tell me when I show you how to do things you already know how to do?
Chekov shrugged, "Maybe you do it differently, and I will learn something."
"Good point, maybe I do," Kirk agreed. "Did you hear that Sulu?"
"Because there are so many ways to make a fire," Sulu said. After a pause, he added, 'sir." After another pause, he said, "I'm sorry, it's just, I checked my chronometer. Do you realize we've been here eleven Aderiel lunar cycles?"
"Does the exact number matter?" grunted McCoy, "We've been here too long, we all agree."
"Eleven cycles corresponds to seventeen Earth days," Sulu explained. "Do you know what that means?"
"That this mission is dull as dirt?" asked McCoy.
"Give it a rest Bones. If I had left you aboard, you would be complaining up there. I don't know about what, but I know you. You'd find something about the orbit around a peaceful planet you couldn't stand. Why can't you just enjoy this?" asked the captain.
"Enjoy what?" asked McCoy. "Conversation with an Aderielan is like watching cows chew their cud. Your negotiations are going nowhere. Still, you have a task, which makes you luckier than the rest of us. We spend every day sitting on giant marshmallows in a cold, drafty room waiting for you to come to tell us nothing happened. All the food tastes like paint, the climate is lousy, our hosts are dull, and there is nothing to do. In the last eleven, or seventeen, or whatever, days. I've read so much I've got eye strain."
"We're mostly out of the weather, and I am giving free lessons in things people already know how to do, what more could you ask?" Kirk laughed. He rolled a nestle between Scotty and Spock and sat down. He pushed into it hard with his elbows so that it formed armrests, which he grasped like it was a throne.
"Don't knock the chairs, Len," Scott laughed. "I'm taking one of these giant marshmallows back with me when we finish here. They're very supportive."
McCoy started to reply, but Sulu interrupted. "Do you realize," he asked, "that it is Christmas?"
"It is?" Chekov asked, then counted on his fingers. "Merry Christmas!" he said delightedly.
"Merry Christmas Chekov," McCoy said glumly. "God bless us, every one."
"That is a nice thought," Chekov said enthusiastically.
McCoy snorted and shook his head, Sulu sighed. Kirk and Scotty laughed. Chekov looked confused, "It is a nice thing to say."
"Yes Chekov, it is," said the captain. "Could you say it?"
"Say what, sir?"
"What the doctor just said, could you say it too?"
"Yes sir, God bless,"
"Wait," the captain said. He grabbed a tricorder, pointed it at the lieutenant and said, "Okay go."
"Jim," snapped the doctor, at the same time that Sulu said, "Sir."
The captain sighed and set the tricorder down.
"I don't understand why this is funny," Chekov said. He had stayed close to the fire, sitting on the edge of the pit.
Scotty said, "I suppose this means we've missed the party?"
"Yes, we missed it," Sulu said. "We missed everything."
"No," Kirk said firmly. "Brennen didn't mention it during her report."
"Entertainment for the crew would hardly be considered information that needed to be relayed to the captain while he is on an important diplomatic mission," Spock said.
"Important?" Sulu muttered. Beside him, McCoy chuckled.
"They wouldn't have the holiday party without me," the captain insisted. "I'm the life of it. They'll have it after we get back, whenever that is." All around him his officers exchanged looks.
"Where is Nyota when we need her?" Sulu asked quietly.
"Lieutenant Uhura is in the quarters provided by the Aderielan embassy for the female crew members. Members of this society consider it inappropriate for mixed-sex groups to sleep in the same building, even within a family or clan unit," Spock said.
"Yes, sir," Sulu said.
The doctor said, "Sulu knows where Uhura is, Spock. He meant Uhura should be here to remind the captain that no matter how important he feels, he is not the reason people celebrate Christmas."
"I don't think I'm the reason for Christmas. I do think I'm the most fun part of the Enterprise's Christmas party, mostly because of my ability to recognize hilarious when I see it." The captain paused, then picked up the tricorder, pointed it, and whispered, "Say it."
Smiling Chekov chanted, "God bless us, every one."
"Got it," said the captain, closing the tricorder. "That is so going on a big screen at the party."
"Pav," moaned Sulu, shaking his head.
"It is a very nice sentiment," Chekov said firmly. "I still do not understand why it is funny."
Spock said, "Captain, it is not a Christmas party. The vast majority of beings in the universe and a large percentage of the crew of the Enterprise do not celebrate Christmas at all."
"It's Christmas for me," McCoy replied.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Of those individuals that do celebrate Christmas, fully half consider it a summer holiday. The party on the Enterprise was designed to acknowledge the many winter festival traditions of the crew and facilitate the pleasure many species experience from repetitions of childhood activities."
"I'm guessing not Vulcans," the doctor said.
"No doctor. It is not logical to attempt to recreate past experiences."
McCoy sputtered, "Spock, you hob..." He paused, looked pleased and said, "No, no, no, not today. In honor of the season, Merry Christmas Spock, you pointy-eared elf."
Spock did not acknowledge the barb, but Chekov said, "In Russia, the elves do not mind the cold."
"Pavel, don't start," Sulu said. "Because, if you do, I won't be able to be polite, and while we are at it, don't mention this not being so bad because at least we are together, or that it's great to get off the ship or anything about Aderiel being picturesque. In fact, do not say any of the stupid platitudes I know are running through your head right now."
Chekov nodded.
"You were going to say those things weren't you?" asked Kirk.
Chekov smiled sheepishly and nodded again.
Scott and the captain laughed, and the doctor snorted.
Scott said, "You know Sulu, not everyone considers optimism a character flaw."
"Sir," said Sulu, "it's cold here. It's boring. Our holiday feast consisted of the same spit temperature glue we ate yesterday and are going to eat tomorrow. The Aderielan delegates cannot make their minds up about anything, and there is no reason to think any of it is going to change. Pretending it isn't bad isn't optimistic, it's fantasy."
Kirk said, "I thought we'd all be back aboard in plenty of time for the party. I'd let you leave, but Uhura says the Aderiel understand you as my family so I can't call for replacements. You all have to stay here to demonstrate how much I trust them. I realize this isn't much of a holiday."
"It is not a Vulcan holiday," Spock said, arranging the blanket so that it covered a little more of his legs.
McCoy added. "At the risk of sounding optimistic," he glanced at navigator, "it doesn't matter to me. Christmas is just another work day. I wasn't going home, and I wasn't expecting much in my stocking this year."
"Well, as for that, I think I might be able to provide a little cheer," Scotty said slowly. "Run fetch my pack lad," he added.
Chekov hurried to the chamber assigned to Scott and returned with a standard-issue Starfleet pack. Scott rummaged in it and pulled out a canvas bag which he opened carefully, displaying a glass bottle.
"Yes, yes, yes," laughed the captain. "Suddenly, things are looking up."
"You're a good man Scotty," McCoy said.
"You haven't tasted it yet Len, but when you do, I think you'll find I'm an excellent man," Scott said. He looked over at Chekov, "Do you think you could find us some glasses?"
"Yes sir," Chekov said. The door slammed behind him as he started across the windy courtyard to the kitchen in the embassy's base.
Sulu frowned. "Why can't he close a door?" he asked.
"Do you ever think," McCoy asked, "that we should maybe divide the work more evenly?"
"Then what would be the use of having junior officers?" laughed Kirk, poking again at the fire.
"Seriously," Sulu said, "shouldn't one of you explain the procedure? Wouldn't that be considered an important part of his education?"
It took several minutes, but soon the door banged, and Chekov appeared with five small, silvery glasses. The engineer lined them up, then opened the bottle and took an appreciative sniff. While Scott poured, Chekov offered the first officer a round flask.
"I do not consume alcoholic beverages," Spock said.
"No sir, I mean, yes sir. It's tea. I thought you might like something warm, and this way, we can all drink together," Chekov said.
Spock raised an eyebrow. McCoy snapped, "For God's sake Spock, it's a tradition on Earth to share refreshments at Christmas. Just this once, unbend and join us. You might even find you like it."
"Doctor, you have misinterpreted my hesitation. I was considering how best to acknowledge Mr. Chekov's kindness." Spock reached for the flask and said, "Thank you."
Looking pleased, Chekov hurried over to help Scott.
"Here now," Scotty said, "this is for the doctor. Give this to Sulu and this to the captain. Now, take one for yourself. Careful not to spill, it's a sadly small bottle."
Once the glasses were handed around, Scott said, "Ordinarily, I'd drink to the speedy conclusion of the mission, but, this time, I think we should drink to the day. Glasses up gentlemen, flask up for you Mr. Spock. Merry Christmas."
There was a clink of glass, and voices echoed, "Merry Christmas!"
"That's good Scotty," Kirk said.
"I love the way it feels," Chekov said thoughtfully, then added more cheerily, "This is fun. Thank you, Mr. Scott."
Sulu gave him a disgusted look.
"I am sorry you are sad," Chekov said.
"I'm not sad," Sulu said firmly.
"You are not sad to be away from Demora today?" Chekov asked.
"I just said I wasn't," Sulu replied.
"Your actions say different," Scott said.
Sulu frowned at him and said haughtily, "I'm annoyed to be spending another night doing nothing on a wet, cold planet in the middle of nowhere."
"Doesn't matter though," the doctor said quietly.
"What?" Sulu asked, then corrected himself, "I beg your pardon, sir."
"I've never found the climate that helps me miss Joanna any less on holidays," McCoy said, holding his glass up to the fire.
Sulu asked, "Still?"
"You don't get used to not being with your kid Sulu, sorry," McCoy said.
Sulu frowned at the fire.
"To hell with it," Scott said. "Hand me your glasses." He topped them up, emptying the bottle as he did so. "Sip it this time," he directed, "slowly."
They did, staring quietly into the fire until McCoy broke the silence by saying, "At her age, she's going to prefer the box to any of the gifts."
"You're right," Sulu said, "she will, and I won't see it." There was a long pause, and then he added, "Guess what Pav, you're right too. How often does that happen?"
"It happens frequently," Chekov muttered, "it is seldom acknowledged, however." Beside him, the captain laughed.
A particularly strong blast shook the door. The wind whistled sharply, the flames fluttered. Once it died down, Sulu said, "This is easily the worst Christmas I ever had."
"Well, it's not great," McCoy admitted. "I don't know as I would say worst."
"It'll be everyone's worst if I find out they had the party without me," the captain mused.
Scott said, "Mr. Sulu, I have some advice for you, from the pen of Mr. Robert Burns no less. You'd do well to take it to heart." He sat up straighter, cleared his throat, raised his glass and recited, "'Here's a bottle and an honest man-What would ye wish for mair man?'"
"Which means what?" McCoy asked.
Scotty gave him a disgusted look, "Which means we're drinking excellent whisky with charming people. The day's not that bad."
Chekov smiled and held his glass up over his head. Scotty leaned forward to tap it with his own.
"Exactly," the captain said, joining the salute.
Sulu shook his head and smiled, "Not to insult your national poet sir, but, here's my toast," He copied Scott's posture and said, "I miss my child and her other dad, I consider this Christmas really bad."
McCoy chuckled. "I'll drink to that," he said and tapped Sulu's raised glass.
"That was great!" Chekov said. 'How do you think of it so fast?"
Sulu drank again and then said, "I was inspired by today, my worst Christmas ever." He looked at his friends and added, "At warp speed, I'm weeks away from my family. I just spent two hours pretending to enjoy a meal of plaster and chalk, and it's cold in here. How could it be worse? I challenge any of you to top it."
"Young man, I'm a doctor. I've spent Christmas day up to my elbows in other people's pus-filled intestines."
"Geez Bones," said the captain, "kind of puts 'once missed a bus and had to eat Christmas Eve dinner alone at the dorm' in a weak light."
"Ha! Pus-filled intestines, I've got three words for him," Scott said to Chekov. "Delta Damn Vega. Splitting old ration packs with Keenser is no way to celebrate anything."
"Worst Christmas ever," Sulu repeated. "I loved Christmas when I was a kid. Didn't you?"
"Yeah, sure," the captain said with a shrug.
"You can't stay a kid forever," McCoy said. "I know this is hard Sulu. I wish I could say it gets better, but I miss my daughter today as much as I did when she was three. The holidays are hard when you aren't with your family."
"We all have families, and none of us are with them," Scott said dismissively. "It's the life we chose."
Sulu continued, "I know, but all my life I looked forward to being the dad at Christmas."
"She has two," Chekov said reassuringly.
"So?" Sulu asked.
"You can feel better knowing Ben will take care of her," Chekov explained.
Sulu narrowed his eyes. "You're missing the point. I want to do it. When I was a kid, Christmas was always perfect, and it was just the start. Every year Dad took a two-week vacation, and we went away as a family. He ordinarily worked so much, almost all my fun memories of him are from Christmas trips."
"Is this about the girl or himself?" Scott whispered to Chekov, who shrugged.
Sulu said stiffly, "The point is, I remember when he gave me my first surfboard. I want to make Demora happy like that."
"You seriously got a surfboard for Christmas?" the captain asked.
Sulu nodded, "And a trip to Hawaii with lessons while we were there. We always got great presents."
"So did we, but it wasn't ever Hawaii," McCoy said.
"What did you get?" asked Sulu.
"Hmm, I got a fly pole once from my daddy."
"That's nice Bones," Kirk said.
"I gave one to Joanna when she was eight," McCoy sounded wistful.
"I'm sure she loved it," Scott said.
"Her stepfather gave her a pony that year. She didn't notice a fishing pole."
"Wow," Kirk said.
The doctor smiled crookedly, "Well, never mind about that. What about you Scotty? What was your favorite gift?"
"Probably my budgie Rocco. Marvelous bird, used to whistle when I came in the door."
Sulu asked, "How about you captain?"
"Hm, I've still got a flashlight my brother gave me one year, so I guess that makes it my favorite gift."
"Pav?" Sulu asked.
"Wait, wait," the captain said. "Let me guess, a dragon bot."
Chekov gave him an odd look. "Why would you think I wanted a dragon bot?"
"Did you?" asked Scott.
When Chekov didn't reply Kirk said, "Well, I always wanted a dragon bot."
"Big surprise," McCoy said. "You wanted something to fly around and fight battles with. Some things never change, which is why I bet Chekov's favorite gift was some sort of junior engineer building kit."
"No," laughed Chekov, "although that sounds great. I think maybe, I still want that."
"I'll keep that in mind. What was your favorite gift past tense?" laughed McCoy.
Forehead wrinkled, Chekov said uncertainly, "Credits?"
"Credits? That wouldn't count. Money is not a proper gift," Scotty scoffed.
"Why not?' asked Chekov.
Scott said, "Money fits everyone, a good gift should be for just you."
"Oh," Chekov said thoughtfully.
"How about a toy, or skates? What do you remember?" asked the doctor.
Sulu interrupted. "Let's not go into that."
"You do realize it isn't his fault your daughter isn't here?" Scotty asked.
"Sir, do you ever actually listen when he starts reminiscing about Russia?" Sulu replied. "I am depressed enough."
Scotty snorted, then said, "Answer the question Chekov."
Chekov looked at Sulu, who shrugged. Chekov turned to McCoy and said, "I wouldn't have asked for things like that doctor. I lived at school, at schools I mean. Storage was limited." He added cheerfully, "It prepared me well for Starfleet, right? I still have no room, and it does not bother me."
Sulu sighed. Scott eyed him skeptically, then turned deliberately to the group. "It's interesting, but I remember my worst presents better. My gran sent us horrible character building pamphlets from her church every year, and my mother made us write her a thank you note before we played with anything. I hated it at the time, but now I remember it fondly."
"I know just what you mean," laughed McCoy, "I get socks, hand knit by my mother, and very uncomfortable. I never wear them, but I never get rid of them. I've got a whole box of them stowed in my locker."
"I got retroactive school uniforms one year," Chekov said. "I do not remember them fondly."
"Retroactive?" Kirk asked.
Chekov shrugged. "I had been wearing them since September, so they weren't new."
Sulu shook his head, muttering to himself under his breath. The other humans laughed. The captain said, "I'm not even going to try and compete, this one you win. Who would think that was a good idea?"
"I kept changing schools, they all had different uniforms, and it got expensive. One year my aunt said she'd spent enough. It didn't bother me. When they heard about my Christmas gift, my uncles felt bad and sent me money, which," he looked mischievously at Sulu.
"Is what you wanted anyway, cute Pav. What about you Mr. Spock, did your family celebrate?" Sulu asked.
"He already said it's not a Vulcan holiday," McCoy said.
Spock pursed his lips, then spoke slowly. "There is no comparable Vulcan holiday. However, my mother honored the traditions of her own family and prepared small tea cakes which she shared with members of my father's clan. While a child, I occasionally assisted her in the preparation and delivery."
"Christmas cookies," McCoy said with satisfaction.
"Honestly, I like the cookies better than the presents," the captain said.
"I have a great idea," Chekov announced. "In Russia, the big holiday is New Years. We can have a party then."
"Why bother?" Sulu said.
"Really? Christmas is secondary?" Scott asked.
Chekov nodded. "In my village, Christmas was another day to go to church; New Years was for fun. But in the city, my aunts copy the European traditions and celebrate both."
"We could do that," Kirk agreed.
"Ben makes great cookies," Sulu said softly. He frowned at the fire, then drained his glass and said, "I'm going to bed." He stood up and started to his chamber.
"Merry Christmas," Scotty called.
"Yeah, yeah," Sulu replied, without looking back. "God bless us, every one."
"I still do not see why that is funny," Chekov said, then added, "If you give me the glasses, I will wash them." He slipped them into Scott's pack and left for the main building, allowing the door to slam behind him.
McCoy watched him go, shaking his head. "Exercise is good for him," Scott said placatingly, "he gets nervous sitting still so much."
McCoy snorted, then said. "It's too cold for you here at night, Spock. Sleep by the fire."
Spock rose slowly, clutching the blanket. "The environment is not ideal," he said, "special accommodations, however, are not necessary."
"Suit yourself. You're pigheaded, and I am not going to argue with you." McCoy said.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "That, doctor, is the best gift I have ever received." He walked stiffly toward his assigned sleeping area.
"Did he just make a joke?" asked Kirk.
"It's a Christmas miracle," McCoy replied. "What about you Scotty?"
"Oh, I'm definitely sleeping here," Scott replied, stretching out in his nestle.
"Add more wood if you get cold," Kirk instructed, starting for his chamber. The doctor gave one more doubtful glance to the fire; then he too left for bed.