DISCLAIMER: It's Paramount's galaxy.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: C/7. Chakotay, Seven and their daughters Mezoti and Ixchell on Christmas Eve. Family fluff. Set in my post-Endgame universe where Chakotay is Captain of the USS Sacagawea, Seven is Science Officer, Ixchell is their daughter, and they've also adopted Mezoti.

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DOWN THROUGH THE PLASMA CONDUITS

Stardate 62981.2

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Mezoti eyed the holographic fire set into the wall of their quarters skeptically. It was very realistic, complete with the crackling of the wood and smell of carbon, but incongruent with the surroundings given the safety demands of the interior of a starship. "Remind me why we hang those bags on the mantle over the simulation of wood combustion again."

"Santo Clós!" five year old Ixchell replied enthusiastically. "And they're stockings, not bags."

Mezoti looked at the so-called stockings more closely. There were six of them of different colorful designs, and each had a name at the top: Mama, Papa, Icheb, Jaxa, Mezoti and Ixchell. Icheb and Jaxa were not with them this year, but their 'stockings' were up nonetheless. None of the stockings appeared suitable to wear on one's foot, however, at least for a humanoid. "I thought that is what the conifer we decorated in the corner was for," Mezoti replied uncertainly. She glanced over at the small tree, lit up with lights and a number of decorations hanging on its branches. She had created the star on top, which was an opaque sphere made of plastic and illuminated from the inside with red lights. An Asymptotic Red Giant, and although the color was still a little off, it was an immense improvement over the silver shiny five-pointed variety Papa had proposed using again. And to think he had supposedly studied astrophysics at Star Fleet Academy. There were several wrapped presents below, the ones she was giving to Ixchell and her parents in a neat row out front.

"Jultomten comes on Christmas Eve night and fills up the stockings of all the good boys and girls who are asleep in their alcoves," Seven said from the kitchen. She was checking on something in the oven and the smells emanating from the kitchen were inviting.

Mezoti nodded. Santo Clós was from Papa's heritage and Jultomten was from Mama's. All these new family traditions to get straight. "Do you think Santo Clós or Jultomten might be bringing me the new Flotter game for my PADD?" Mezoti asked.

"Aren't you getting a little old for that game?" Chakotay countered. He was holding a large mug of hot chocolate as he sat in front of the simulated fire, but appeared to be breathing in its aroma instead of drinking it.

"Flotter transcends age Papa," Mezoti replied with authority. "They even make variations for adults. Naomi reported to me in her last transmission that this new Flotter adventure game on the Ice Moons of Andoria is amazing."

"I love Flotter," Ixchell commented.

Chakotay smiled from behind his mug and nodded.

Ixchell turned towards Mezoti. "Did you send your letter to the North Pole?" she asked seriously.

"I informed Mama and Papa of my desires several weeks ago," Mezoti replied.

Ixchell turned back to face Chakotay. "Did you tell Santo Clós what Mezoti wants?"

Before Chakotay could answer, Mezoti interrupted. "Ixchell, you know perfectly well that Santo Clós does not live at Earth's North Pole and that it is Mama and Papa who acquire the gifts that appear in the morning. Santo Clós and Jultomten are all just stories. Our family traditions." The girl lit up on saying that last part. She was so pleased to be part of a family.

Seven and Chakotay exchanged a brief look and then Seven shrugged. Chakotay sat up a little straighter in his chair and then turned to both Ixchell and Mezoti. "What Mezoti says is true, but actually, the stories we tell grew out of traditions surrounding an actual historical figure. You can think of Mama and me as two of Santo Clós's helpers."

Ixchell's eyes went wide with happiness and Mezoti arched an eyebrow. It was amazing how much like Seven in manner and temperament the teenager was becoming. Ixchell turned to the holographic fireplace and crossed her arms. "I guess he would need your help too because we don't even have a real chimney," she observed. Ixchell was precocious, and although she looked like Chakotay's side of the family with her long dark hair, he imagined Seven had been the same way at that age.

Mezoti had picked up her PADD, but paused as she considered something. "It could be that Santo Clós is a non-corporeal lifeform outside of linear time," she mused, "Like the aliens inhabiting the Bajoran wormhole. He could then visit all points of space and time in a single evening without any trouble."

Chakotay chuckled. "We wouldn't need a chimney then," he confirmed.

Inside the kitchen, the oven slammed shut. "Up on the hull plating the reindeer pause," Seven began to sing. "Out beams dear old Santa Claus." She was putting whatever she had taken out of the oven on the counter. Instead of replicators, it had been traditional cooking tonight. Both Seven and Chakotay during supper, but Seven had mysteriously went in after as well. "Down through the plasma conduits with lots of toys," she continued.

"All for the little ones, Christmas joys!" Chakotay and Seven finished in chorus.

Ixchell clapped her hands together with a squeal and Mezoti arched her eyebrow up a notch. She then looked down to her PADD. "Saint Nicholas of Myra," she announced. "An early Christian bishop who lived two-thousand years ago on Earth." She had obviously accessed the ship's database. She started scrolling down the contents of the file, her expression growing more and more astonished. "There are dozens of names for the legendary figure derived from his memory. Mostly from Earth, but other planets too: Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, Kanakaloka, Weihnachtsmann, T'Klos, Swiety Mikolaj. The list goes on and on."

Seven came from the kitchen with a plate full of cookies. "Okay, we have time for one last snack before bedtime." The wonderful smell enveloped the room and they all descended on the plate and scooped up one of the gingerbread cookies sprinkled with powdered sugar. Delicious and still warm from the oven.

"Can I sleep in my bed tonight?" Mezoti asked between bites. Ixchell nodded enthusiastically. They shared a room and she loved it when she and her big sister slept side by side.

"When was the last time you regenerated?" Seven replied.

Mezoti shrugged. "Two nights ago I got four point two hours," she offered.

Seven looked intently at the girl and shook her head slightly. Mezoti was obviously not keeping up with her required maintenance. "You can sleep in your bed tonight, because it's a special night, but you really need to regenerate more often to support your Borg components," Seven fussed. Mezoti frowned at this. "I don't like it as much as you do," Seven added.

"Kanakaloka?" Chakotay inquired, attempting to change the subject.

"Hawaii, on Earth," Mezoti replied immediately. Her eidetic memory had probably memorized the entire list. She had chosen to include that particular one for a reason which she now remembered. "If you recall, you promised to take me hiking on that volcano the next time we were close. You're the Captain, we should all take some personal time off and go on vacation."

"I may be the Captain," Chakotay replied, "but I still have a boss I take orders from."

Mezoti turned to Seven. "When's the next time we can go to Earth?" she asked. Both Chakotay and Seven nearly choked a bit on their cookie with laughter. Mezoti didn't understand the joke and looked back and forth between them waiting for an answer.

"Soon," Chakotay finally answered. "I think we'll be in the vicinity of Earth in a month or so. We'll all go on a backpacking trip into the wilderness then."

Mezoti nodded. "Satisfactory," she said.

Ixchell had finished her cookie and her eyes were now getting heavy. Seven took this as a cue and lifted the plate of left-over cookies up and placed them back on the kitchen counter. "I think it's time for all good children to go to get ready and go to bed to give Jultomten, and his helpers, time to fill those stockings and put presents under the tree." She had winked at Chakotay for the 'helpers' comment.

Mezoti arched an eyebrow yet again, but licked her fingers clean of any gingerbread crumbs in compliance and stepped over to Seven. "God natt," she said and she and Seven gave each other a hug. Both a bit stiff, their Borg background not accustomed to showing overt affection to one another. Mezoti then moved over to where Chakotay still sat by the simulated fire. "For the record," she said. "I am no longer a 'little one'."

"So you don't want anything from Santo Clós in your stocking tomorrow morning?" Chakotay teased.

Mezoti narrowed her eyes, but also cracked an ever so slight smile. "Actually, I am still a fair bit shorter than you and Mama," she conceded. "Buenas noches." She leaned over and allowed Chakotay to kiss her on the top of her head. She then skipped off to the bedroom she shared with Ixchell when not using her alcove.

Ixchell was next and gave Seven a hug around her legs and then moved over to Chakotay. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, her mouth now close to his ear. "I'm so happy you're one of Santo Clós's elves," she whispered, and then ran off to follow Mezoti.

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THE END

Author's note: Inspired by Laura Schiller's most recent C/7 one-shot and the fact that I'm struggling to finish the last chapter of my other in-progress C/7 story… Reviews are always welcome!