Title: Santa Hats and Apple Cider
Author: sororexitium
Rating: pg-13 (for language and allusions to sex.)
Warnings: slight spoilers for the movie, so much fluff you almost can't stand it, and a healthy dose of humor
Word Count: Rounded up to 10,000 words.
Summary: The Senior staff of the Enterprise are going to spend Christmas dinner together. Bones is surprisingly less than enthused about that. This was written for space_wrapped
A/N: haha…I don't even know what to say. This had been such an awesome roller coaster to write. I actually love this story after four days of glaring at it and pulling certain characters' teeth to do what I wanted them to, but I think it came out okay. I super hope that you like it, as well, and that it brings holiday cheer to you. Also, this was so based on my family…it should probably be illegal.
Christmas Eve
Bones would not hesitate to tell you that he was absolutely mortified at the idea of being on a goddamn deathtrap for the entirety of the Holiday Seasons. He was outraged, if you actually wanted to know. Not because being on this disaster-waiting-to-happen would totally ruin his Christmas—after all Christmas had been ruined for him five years ago by his ever so considerate ex-wife. It wasn't even because he would be stuck working—that would honestly be a bit better than what he would really be doing. It wasn't even because he would be stuck with Jim on a ship, while most of the other crew was gone on shore leave to help relieve some of their despair at not being able to see their families. Being with Jim was rather enjoyable, which had probably been the cause of their union, even if Bones was sometimes terrified to find out just what exactly his lover had been doing in the kitchen with a bowl of soggy cereal and a tube of toothpaste.
No, what had Bones in a tizzy was the fact that the Bridge crew (including the damn Vulcan), whilst he, Scotty, Gaila, and Keenser were unawares in their cute little corner of the starship, had decided that the band of friends should pull together and have their own little 'family celebration.' Not only this—because that just wasn't bad enough—they had decided they (and 'they' meant all of the Senior officers and significant others) were going to decorate Recreational Room 7 the old fashioned way, with a tree and some garland and tinsel…which was difficult enough to find on Earth, let alone a damn Starship. Then, they were all going to sit down to a lovely dinner and exchange gifts…okay, they had decided to skip the gifts, but it still stood that they were eating dinner together.
Bones would rather tap dance with Nero's reanimated corpse than try to be cheerful and jolly for Nyota—because he was sure it was her who had put this ridiculous mission into the minds of the Bridge—for what could last up to four hours. At least when he and Jim celebrated alone, he could act like a total grouch and all Jim would say was, "Bones, you keep pouting like that and I won't ask you to be my dancing partner for the Yuletide Waltz." He was fine with that, mostly because he was almost positive Jim didn't know what a Yuletide Waltz was. Now he would have to make nice and pretend that he was enjoying the festivities and the food, and if he had to try and choke down Scotty's haggis one more time, he would seek his vengeance out with a strong dose of chemical impotence.
Wouldn't that put a bind on the Scot's quest to get his hands on Gaila's 'ample nacelles!'
There was only one day left until Christmas, and most of the ship would embark to a relatively jolly planet where they would spend their Holidays. He only had five minutes left to hide from the frenzy that had taken over the Senior staff. Only five minutes until Nurse Chapel went off duty, dragging him along with her. He only had five minutes to figure out how to hide from an overly excited Chekov, sputtering about 'Babushka' and Borsch, and a seemingly too green Gaila, who didn't understand the Earth custom of Christmas but would more than happily attack a poor unsuspecting room with sickeningly colorful garble.
Then of course, there was Jim, who was rather efficient at finding him, and would make him help if only for the fact that if the Captain was to be submitted to friendly torture Bones would not be spared.
The good Doctor could only hope to sedate himself with half a bottle of good ol' bourbon before he was napped for the holiday cruelty.
His door whooshed closed and locked before Bones even had the time to blink. The blinds that let him view the Sickbay from the safety of his office became opaque, and the gold and black blur behind these actions was suddenly purchased in his lap, long legs straddling his hips and sinuous fingers twisting into the soft fabric of the chair behind his head.
Jim Kirk, in all of his radiant, self-important, captainy glory, sat heavy and comfortable in his lap, smiling down at Bones like he really was the answer to all wrongs in the universe…
…and the cause for at least half the ones about to crop up.
"Y'know," Jim started; all smiles and sparkling blue eyes. "You look like someone stole your candy cane, Bones."
Smug bastard didn't even have the grace to feign regret. He was enjoying the agony Bones would have to endure. Evil wretch probably considered it payback for the hypos Bones had been sticking him with for the past year. He rolled his eyes internally. If there was ever a time to lament his hypo-happy soul, now would be the time. Right about now would also be a good time to start bitching.
There was no way Bones would go down without a fight.
"If you think I'm going to help you in organizing this Christmas party vomit, you're grossly mistaken, Jim. I'm a doctor, dammit, not an elf!" he seethed, though it lacked its potential hostility as Jim carted his fingers impishly through his hair and down his neck, coming to play with the soft blue tunic collar.
"I know you're not an elf," Jim soothed. "You're way too tall and way too grumpy."
"I'm not grumpy!" Bones defended with a tone even he would classify as grumpy. He was downright Scrooge-like, but he wouldn't admit that lest he wanted to lose this argument before it really even began. "I just have more dignity left than you do, ya overgrown child!"
His insult didn't have half the effect he wanted, other than it dimmed Jim's smile by millionths of a fraction. He didn't even have a seconds reprieve before Jim asked smartly, "What's Spock's excuse, then? He's got more dignity than the entire crew combined."
"Other than the fact he's whipped?"
And sweet, Savannah sunrise, was the Vulcan ever doe-eyed and moonstruck. Everything that Uhura had demanded and organized was carried out to the letter by Spock. There would be no disobeying the Communications officer, because those who weren't terrified by Spock (namely he and Jim) were scared shitless of Uhura. It was a fine balance and most of the reason that Bones hadn't been so bitchy in public. However, Jim had good standing with Spock, and if Jim could sweet talk Spock into letting them escape the party with minimal harm, Spock could subdue Nyota into not killing them point blank.
It was time for a reevaluation of strategy.
Bribery!
He leaned forward, trailing messy kisses from the collar of Jim's gold, command shirt, along the long arch of his neck. It was cruel and underhanded and more likely to get the Captain hot, suspicious, and compliant all in the same go. It was a combination that had worked a good eighty percent of the time to Bones' favor. The other twenty percent didn't matter because Bones had enjoyed himself anyway.
And surely as the stars did shine, Jim's breathing hitched and he made sweet, soft noises in the back of his throat. Sure steady hands found their way from the back of Bones' neck up into his hair again, holding him in place as he let his lips work magic over his Captain.
"I'll wear that stupid Santa hat you like," he whispered seductively as he kissed and teased along Jim's strong jaw line. He felt the smile against his skin and mostly in his soul. That had to be a good sign. "And you can sit in my lap for as long as you want and tell me all the dirty things you won't dare tell Santa you wanted for Christmas."
For a second, Jim's breathing stopped, sucked up in a sharp gasp that had to have depleted half the oxygen supply in his office. Bones felt the changes in the cabin temperature. He felt surely that he would have won this small battle when Jim craned his head to seek out his lips, especially when that soft, talented tongue snaked its way into his mouth, mapping familiar territory and claiming possession of something already owned.
Bones tried not to let smugness break through his features when Jim pulled back just enough to say, "Okay."
"Okay?"
When the Captain pulled back, Bones saw that he had been played at his own game. Jim hadn't surrendered. If anything he had gained the upper hand because of Bones underhandedness. "Yeah, okay," he reaffirmed, stroking the elder's stubbled cheek. "We'll go start the celebration early. You just go tell Uhura that we won't be there for her Christmas party."
And that was how he found himself stringing popcorn for the ugliest goddamn tree that God had ever cringed to shed light upon. Seven feet tall with large, Styrofoam-like, purple leaves that curled about into a bowl, this tree was easily the worst substitute for a Christmas tree that Bones had ever seen. Yet, everyone was happy with it. Uhura was stringing and weaving large bells onto the branches, letting the metal of them gleam from the string of lights that Chekov had discovered somewhere in the cargo bay. Why the goddamn flagship of the Federation had Christmas lights, the universe may never know. Scotty, Gaila, and Keenser were joining hooks (made from copper wire they happened to have spare in a random supply closet) onto homemade ornaments (which were horrific to look at and looked nothing like the North Star).
Worse was Sulu had found an entire bushel of mistletoe, and was now stringing it merrily every two square feet, making sure that everyone would either be kissing in three second intervals or looking at the ceiling as they walked around the Rec room. Bones wasn't sure what he should be more upset about. The fact that he would have to look up as he walked around the damn room, or the fact that the mistletoe had been found in the first place. He had paid a Yeoman good credits to hide that monstrosity in a place not even Jim knew the identity of. It would figure that his effort would be for naught.
"You're an asshole," Bones told Jim for probably the millionth time in the last hour he had been stringing the damn popcorn with an actual fucking needle and thread. He was going to stab himself and get tetanus and he was going to have to medicate himself or die of an ancient disease that had all but died out in the twenty-first century. Or worse, Jim would stab himself and get tetanus and Bones would have to deal not only with medicating Jim, but listening to him whine about it as well.
Because Jim was stringing cranberries onto a string, as well. They weren't actually cranberries; they were some fruit that Gaila picked up on the planet they were orbiting. However, they were red and small like cranberries, so Bones just went ahead and labeled them such. Knowing his luck, the stupid berries were poisonous and Jim would die of that as well as tetanus, seeing as the kid kept licking the juices from his fingers. And that was another cruelty in this madhouse! No one should have to watch Jim suck on his fingers with a delighted grin on his face. It was too damn tempting.
Jim took that moment to pause and rearrange. He kicked his feet up onto Bones' lap, careful of the delicate, fluffy popcorn. He paused in his stringing to level the Doctor with an amused stare and that almost smile that was more genuine than most of his actual smiles hovering at the corners of his mouth.
"Bones, if you put all the energy you use bitching into decorating, we wouldn't need the others to help. You could do it all on your own."
He couldn't help fix his captain with a droll glare. "'tis the season of sharing, Jim," he said with a sneer. "What kind of good Samaritan would I be if I hogged all the fun?"
Jim let out a quiet chuckle, hunching down further in to a more comfortable position before he continued with his task, uncaring that Bones didn't immediately resume his own. Not that he would be. The captain liked being the center of attention, and often told the southern doctor that he was the one Jim liked to be the center of attention for most. Though he had said it in jest, there was an undercurrent of sincerity that Bones had never taken for granted, and never would. The doctor's few moments of Jim-watching was well and fine with both of them. Even if Bones still thought he was an asshole.
He picked up his task, meaningless and time-consuming though it was, and managed not to complain for an entire five minutes. And after another hour, he was done. For several moments he considered thanking whatever heathenish god would listen that he had finished, but just as his lack of luck would have it, Gaila came skipping—literally skipping, in her short red skirt that she had hemmed with white fuzz along with the rest of her uniform—up to him.
"Hi, Len," she said, her silvery-pink lips forming into an easy smile. He repressed the sigh at the use of his first name, reasoning with himself that it was only she and Nyota who were allowed to call him that and only off duty. "Are you done here?" she asked hopefully, eyeing what had felt like hundreds of meters of popcorn the littered the ground around his feet.
Bones really didn't want to say yes. He knew he would regret it; there was no way he couldn't. She was sweet, and he would admit cute in her own green way, but she was pure evil as well. She wasn't like Jim, who just got what he wanted from Bones because he had complete and unexplainable (without the use of witchcraft) power over him. She just had that way of talking him into something even though he had resolutely told her no. It was like she never heard it and just by her odd conversion of no into yes meant you were doing it, and you somehow thought it was your idea…
Which was how Jim worked with almost everyone else.
It wasn't even worth the fight. The sooner he submitted to whatever labor she had planned out for him, the sooner he could think of sneaky and ingenious ways to sedate the entire Bridge staff for thirty-six hours.
"Yeah, what d'ya want?"
Despite his gruff tone, her smile amplified and she grabbed his hand and hauled him away from Jim's side.
"We have to have color!" she said brightly. "It's too sterile in there. We need fun!"
The only way it could be fun, Bones thought, was if Spock suddenly donned a Santa hat. He was pretty sure he would be the only one who took immense amusement out of that, though.
Apparently such thoughts were considered blasphemous by Lady Karma, because not ten minutes later, he was hefting a heavy trunk of tapestries into Rec Room 7, grumping the entire way that he hadn't switched occupations and if he had he sure as hell wouldn't have chosen to be a moving man.
Uhura didn't squeal in delight when she saw all of her friend's old fabrics, but Bones was sure it was a pretty close thing. Her eyes got all bright, and Spock moved almost unnoticeably away from the two women as they began to plan where they would hang the tapestries and with what sort of scheme. Bones didn't even try to be sneaky about his retreat.
He high-tailed it over to where Jim was, now having finished with his poisonous faux-berries and having migrated over to where Scotty was. They were close to the tree, where Chekov and Sulu were now stringing up Jim's string, moving and coordinating the red under and around the popcorn, lights, and bells. Sulu was already holding some ornaments, following behind his Russian lover piercing the Styrofoam-like leaves with the atrocious ornaments that Scotty, Gaila and Keenser had made. Behind them was a fair sized pile of origami cranes and paper fans.
It was all Bones could do not to make a face at them, even if they couldn't see him do it.
As he came to Jim's side, his partner made a small gesture of welcome by running his hand over his shoulder blade.
Scotty, as soon as Bones was close enough to him, leaned over, all the while moving his eyes to where Gaila and Spock were beginning to hang the fabrics across the wall. His eyes were mainly transfixed on Gaila, his object of affection and obsession.
Jim and Bones took immense enjoyment out of the way he eyed her.
Scotty cleared his throat, asking Bones in a hushed voice, just in case Sulu and Chekov were spying on him, Bones supposed, "What was her room like?"
It was such a prepubescent question, and Bones seriously thought about telling him that there were handcuffs everywhere, but that was a disservice to Gaila. So instead he answered, "Kinda cluttered."
After that he turned to Jim, who was trying not to laugh, and failing miserably at it. "Can I go now, your highness?"
"Ask the Queen Bee." He pointed to Nyota, who was helping Chekov and Sulu put up the rest of the decorations onto the tree, and by helping Bones naturally meant that she was dictating. The woman was an angel until she wanted something done. Then it was her way…you didn't even get the highway as an alternative choice.
Bones huffed internally. "What the hell is there left to do?"
Jim shrugged. "Spock came by earlier and mentioned something about some of us starting on our dishes tonight so that the rest could have the kitchen to themselves tomorrow."
He scoffed. "Oh, joy." But then he remembered…cooking…Scotty… haggis! Sharply, he turned his attention to the Scot beside him, his glare enough to fell Cupid from his insipid little cloud. "What are you making?"
"Bannock," he answered, confusion written over his face. "What're you makin'?"
He didn't answer; mainly because he didn't know. Thankfully, Jim changed the subject to other, more important things…at least in the eyes of the Scotsman.
By the end of the night, Rec Room 7 looked nothing like it had when they started. It was colorful and cheery, and every bit as Christmassy as Bones had feared it would be. It literally looked like Rudolph had regurgitated an entire Christmas factory into the room.
He was almost sorry to leave, despite the fact that that damn tree was still glaringly ugly.
They had then meandered their way to the kitchen, where a few of them had began to cook, while the other's sat and kept them company. Scotty had been forced to make his bannock early, and Sulu and Chekov were making their own dishes. Uhura was making a yam paste, called fufu. Jim had nearly laughed himself sick, until Uhura had calmly walked up to him with a stirring spoon in her hand. It was real power when that could shut Jim up. Bones knew had anyone else done that Jim would have laughed harder at their ridiculousness.
When the four of them had finished their dishes, they all parted ways. Jim and Bones exit together was unnoticed, thanks to the help of Scotty, who claimed that they were going for a night cap in the Captain's quarters.
Only Spock and Scotty knew about Bones and Jim's relationship. The rest of them either speculated or were just in the dark. Not that either he or Jim had tried to make it that way, but after a while it became a fun game of sorts. It was almost a race to see who would figure them out next. Jim and Bones, both, were convinced Uhura would be the next one, if only for the fact that she was with Spock, and it would only be so long until he let it slip.
Vulcans weren't perfect, no matter what the pointy-eared bastard said.
As it was, Scotty continued down on the turbo-lift, heading to his quarters, while Jim and Bones took up their own. The doctor was never so happy to be away from his friends in all his damn life. Not because he didn't want to be with them, per se, but mostly because he was tired, and he really didn't want to be cheery tomorrow, but he would have to be. And if he had to be cheery, he needed as much sleep as possible.
He sat down on their bed, and was only marginally surprised when Jim attacked him, taking them both into a lying position. Jim was heavy, but comfortably so, and when he pushed himself up to balance on his elbows, Bones didn't even find it in him to grouse about Spock and the dictatorial way he had made everyone work, even if it was at the hands of Nyota. Jim looked happy, and not just in that debonair, self-sacrificing, I'm-so-totally-faking-this-just-so-everyone-else-will-be-happy way. He looked genuinely pleased, and almost giddy if Bones was pushed to admit it.
The Captain was excited about this Christmas dinner, and the entire friends-turned-family closeness, and even the part where he was being forced to make something for dinner, even though he didn't cook that often. Let it not be said though that Jim couldn't cook. The few times they had been broke, or just hadn't felt like ordering out or suffering at the hands of the replicator, Jim had proven himself savvy at the stove in the kitchenette. Bones had almost started destroying the replicators so Jim would be forced to cook a few times more a month, but knowing the kid and his obsession with electronics, he could probably fix it faster than Bones could break it.
Jim pressed a quick kiss to Bones' lips, making that god-awful 'muah!' sound as he pulled away. "You know, Bones, I'll admit I'm pretty damn awesome, but most days," he paused to simply run his hands through the doctor's hair, coming back with a bit of oatmeal from Scotty's bannock and popcorn from the strings he'd been forced to make.
"Oh, hell!" Bones muttered and almost sat up to get the rest of whatever was now nesting in his hair out, but Jim kissed him again, more sincere and passionate.
Breaking apart he continued with what he had been saying. "Most days, you're pretty fucking spectacular, Bones."
Bones didn't want to agree and sound conceited, however, he didn't want to argue it and sound like he was fishing for any damn compliments. So he chose middle ground.
"Do I get a reward since you think I'm so damn spectacular?"
Jim's smile turns lecherous. "I thought you'd never ask."
Bones had planned on sleeping, but what was sleep if one wasn't good and properly relaxed?
Christmas Day
Bones and Jim were finishing up lunch in the Captain's quarters when Spock commed to inform them that Bones had been saddled with the task of making dessert and that Jim had best come up with something to make before 'Nyota becomes upset with you,' which was Spock's polite way of saying, 'before Nyota devours your soul.'
Bones really didn't have a problem with making the desert. In fact, he was kind of thrilled about it, seeing as that meant he didn't have to worry about the damn ham that no one had offered to bake yet. And coming from the South, he had a plethora of heart-warmed delectables that would do just fine for the occasion. He barely even had to stress over anything. Hell, in the end, he all but said to hell with it, and settled on making an old-fashioned pecan pie, because no one could go wrong with that.
Jim, however, made no indication of having any clue up in his genius head about what he was going to make. After a few seconds, a small frown wrinkled his forehead. It was clear he was drawing a blank.
"Got even the slightest idea for the Christmas dinner?" Bones asked, hoping he could be helpful in some way.
Since last night, after discovering Jim's absolute joy over this entire shindig, Bones had found it was a little easier to be excited himself. He wasn't looking forward to it as much as Jim was, but he wasn't dreading it as much as he had been when he had first heard it. His lover's happiness tended to do that to him. As long as Jim wasn't excited over a suicidal mission, if he was happy, Bones generally lost most of his acerbic attitude.
Jim shook his head. "Not a one. Haven't really thought of anything appropriate."
"Well, what did your family make for Christmas dinner?" he asked a little hesitantly. It was one of the topics that Bones had never broached before. He knew that Jim's home-life had been less than stellar with Frank around. Often times, his mother had been off planet. He knew Christmas had been one of the only times that Winona Kirk had always made it home for, come hell or high water, but that was about it. And he didn't like asking about Jim's childhood, in general, for the simple fact, more often than not it sparked bad memories about Frank and what had happened when his mother hadn't been around to protect her children.
As it was, Jim shrugged one shoulder, folding his hands under his chin as he began to describe his Christmas dinners. "We never really had a set plan. Frank always made the most disgusting turkey in the entire universe. Mom made potatoes with too much cream, and someone always came around to bring some sort of pie. Never really had an all out Christmas before I met you, and even then the dorms were not a place to really make traditions, y'know?"
He hadn't known, but had always somehow assumed that it would have gone down like that. A cloud of melancholy was forming over them, but, as usual, Jim would be a monkey's uncle before he let it engulf him. He smiled and let out a tender chuckle.
"I guess something I do remember as being fairly routine and somewhat fond was that every Christmas mom made hot apple cider. She would make one cup for both of us and we would sit on the couch while Frank prepared the turkey and she waited for her potatoes to get mushy and drink this stuff, which I'm not certain didn't have alcohol in it."
"Your mother gave you alcohol?" Bones asked, his own small crooked grin forming as he thought of a young Jim and his mother huddled up. Winona urging Jim to have just a little bit more cider before they sat down for dinner.
Jim's grin grew, his eyes losing focus as he reminisced. "Oh, yeah. She did it to calm me down enough for bed. Trick she learned from my gramma. I'm probably lucky I wasn't dosed more often. I'm pretty sure that's how she got Frank to shut up those last few years they were together."
They shared a small laugh at that notion. Bones had only met Winona once and that had only been for a couple of hours as she waited for a shuttle to take her to the moon, where a small group of research scientists were trying to cultivate an atmosphere without the help of glass domes and regenerated air. She had been kind, a bit distant, but loving all together. However, it was clear to Bones, even if he had never met George Kirk, that whatever deviance Jim had was inherited directly from his mother. He wouldn't be surprised, at all, if she had intoxicated Jim's ex-step-father to sleep.
"Why don't you make apple cider for the dinner? Okay, it's not an actual food, but I can't think of anyone who'd object…" he thought about it for a moment. "'Cept maybe Spock."
Jim gave him an indulgent smile. "No matter what you say, Spock really isn't the horrible hobgoblin you imagine him to be."
He smiled, believing Jim but unwilling to admit such a thing. Spock was a relatively decent being…as long as he was on the opposite side of the room from Bones. Of course, he felt that way about most the people he came across. He wasn't prejudice. He really only liked Jim, and…well, one person had to count for something.
He shook his head, glancing at Jim who was stretching for a PADD in hopes of finding a suitable recipe for the cider. In his stretch, his shirt rode up a little, exposing a strip of fair skin. Bones couldn't resist. Honestly, he didn't even try. He reached out and ran his hand across the warm skin, causing Jim to jump. No matter what the kid said, Jim was ticklish if you caught him off guard.
"Hands to yourself at the table, Bones," Jim huffed (actually huffed like a prissy high school girl). He snagged his shirt down, sending a discreet glare to the doctor. He kept one hand one his shirt as he reached for the electronic device again.
Bones snorted. "That's a silly rule. Half the things we do at the table, or on the table," he amended quickly, "require my hands to be on you."
The captain had come back with his PADD, and his fingers were quickly tapping and flipping through pages, but he had enough presence in the conversation to snicker lewdly.
His quick location of a suitable recipe was marginally irritating, but thankful since they had to be in the kitchen in a few minutes. Jim smiled gleefully, memorizing the ingredients as he read them, the way he had with mathematical formulas or battle tactics back at the Academy. Bones couldn't help the mingled feelings of pride and irritation at Jim for his genius. However, it was time to go. He could hold his feelings at bay for the rest of the day.
"Alright, Mr. Cringle," he declared, slapping his hand down on Jim's knee and rubbing soothingly. "We've got more food to prepare."
Jim didn't hesitate in jumping out of his seat, someone having set his inner-child on parent's-worst-nightmare. He was on some sort of excitement induced sugar rush as he tugged Bones to his feet and marched resolutely towards the kitchen, where oddly enough, Bones didn't feel dread like he had yesterday. Jim's delight in this really did have an amazing impact on him.
As long as he didn't get stuck cooking that goddamn ham he was pretty sure he'd be fine.
And speaking of the ham…
"Do you have any idea who's gonna be roasting that ham?" he asked, tugging Jim back towards him in hallway just outside their shared quarters—how it was that no one had noticed that Bones never went to his own designated quarter, he may never know.
Jim didn't even hesitate in his quest for the magical kitchen. "Keenser."
Hey, look! The brakes worked.
Bones halted, mostly out of shock. Keenser was cooking? Keenser knew how to cook something other than a cold turkey sandwich (for Scotty, of course)? They had trusted the little alien sidekick of a crazy Scotsman to cook their Christmas ham? An alien, may he mention, no one knew the origin of. It was like he had popped into existence at Scotty's command! The Scot had probably created him in his mad chocolate shop about the same time he was sterilizing his damn tribble and sending Admiral Archer's beagle off to unknown territories of the galaxy. And he was cooking the Christmas ham?
"You gotta be kidding me!" he barked incredulously.
"Not in the slightest. Keenser will be making your holiday ham of delightfulness."
"Delightfulness, my ass."
Jim smiled, stealing the quickest kiss known to man. "Your ass is quite delightful," he answered with a quirky grin. He twirled back around, yanking Bones along with him.
The doctor rolled his eyes. Sometimes, he found it was easier to just act insane like the rest of them rather than to waste medicines trying to diagnose them all.
They made good time, arriving in the kitchen just as something began to bubble over the edge of the pan. It was brownish-black, and gave of a sickeningly sweet odor that made Bones stomach gurgle. Jim and Bones immediately went to cover their noses, hoping to save their nostrils so that they could smell another day. It was about then that the gelatinous disaster started smoking and a detector went off. From the other entrance into the kitchen, four people rushed in, led by Uhura. It was hard to see them through the thick black smoke, but their legs were discernable underneath the plume.
"Oh, my gosh!" Nyota proclaimed. "Gaila, what's wrong with this?"
Bones couldn't distinguish Gaila, but Uhura was the only one still in a skirt, so her legs were the easiest to identify. However, one pair of legs quickly moved over to the stove, moving Uhura out of the way.
"Nothing is wrong with it…I think. It said to wait until it started to simmer." Gaila's innocent, clueless tones wafted over the detector. Beside him, Bones could hear Jim beginning to snicker.
"Aye, lass!" Scotty proclaimed, with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Simmer means ye want it to bubble just a wee bit, not to attack the kitchen with a fury hell hath no. Mr. Chekov, turn that blasted smoke detector off!"
"Aye, sir."
As, Bones assumed, Chekov scampered off to deactivate the siren, Uhura stepped forward again, moving Gaila aside. "Gaila, turn it off. You're an engineer for goodness sake. Fire bad, remember?"
"It wasn't on fire!"
"It would have been."
"No, it was just simmering a little feverishly. Like humans do when they're sexually frustrated!" there was an insistent whine beginning to emerge in Gaila's tone, a sure sign that she, too, was becoming as frustrated as Uhura.
"It was bubbling over, like humans do when they're angry! It was mad at you!"
Jim was in fits by now, trying not to laugh too loudly, just in case his entertainment stopped.
"Lassies, let's not yell. It's Christmas. Joy through the galaxy, yeah?" Scotty's soothing voice was not heeded. It had been a bad idea from the start to even interfere with two women in the middle of an argument, a worse idea considering they were friends, the worst idea ever considering how fierce these women were individually, let alone put together. Bones doubted Jim had the balls to jump in the middle of that. The women promptly turned their frustration onto Scotty, shouting at him.
The alarm shut off abruptly and the ventilation quickly sucked up the haze of smoke that had been separating them from having a view of each other. Scotty, Gaila, and Uhura all caught sight of the two of them, Chekov in the back, hovering next to the operational outlet as if it was a safe zone for him. Their faces were all mixtures of irritation, shock, and helplessness, and Jim promptly lost any control he had over himself, breaking down into fits of giggles and sniggers.
Uhura opened her mouth to admonish the captain, but as she did so, the doors opened again, admitting Sulu and Spock, in a mostly frantic state, looking around wildly and seemingly counting heads. Jim barely managed to clam up, resorting to his captain face as the two newcomers looked around curiously.
And, dear God in Heaven above, Bones could not help the maniacal grin that broke out at the sight of Spock…in a damn Santa hat! He must have been wearing the biggest shit-eating grin since the afternoon Jim told him that there were only three great things in his life, Bones being number one.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Sulu demanded, rushing over to where Chekov was still plastered next to the operation system. "We got a message saying that kitchen four's smoke detectors had gone off. We thought everyone in here had gone up in a haze of fire."
Spock also meandered over to Nyota. "Do not be overzealous, Mr. Sulu. We were merely wondering what culminated in the event of the smoke detectors alarm."
"Gaila tried to burn the kitchen down," Uhura said lightly, though with some passion. She was trying to be level headed again, trying to remember it wasn't necessarily Gaila's fault. She fidgeted with the long sleeve of her golden dress, fixing a flaw that wasn't even there as she reined in her irritation.
Gaila did not work on logic. When her emotions got going, they were hard to stop and tended to fluctuate dramatically. "I did not!" she hollered, pouting in Nyota's direction. She crossed her arms over her chest, accentuating, along with the dark blue silk wrap, the fullness of her breasts. It was easy to tell that Scotty had a hard time not giving into that temptation. "It was simmering vehemently. The instructions never clarified whether it had to be a gentle simmer or not."
"A simmer is generally classified as cooking just below boiling point. The fact that most of your glaze ended up on the stove leads me to believe that you were not actually simmering anything." Spock said reasonably.
Gaila stared at him for a brief moment, before tossing her long plaited hair over her shoulder, mostly out of embarrassment. "These rules should be designated somewhere," she muttered to herself.
Spock heard her anyway. "I believe you can find the meanings for most words in the dictionary."
There was a drum-splitting silence as Gaila simply stared at Spock, and indeterminable look on her face. Her arms fell away from her chest, her hands rubbing against her black clad hips nervously. She looked around the room with a trapped look on her face.
Suddenly, she huffed, "Stupid cookbooks!" and stomped away from them all, shoving passed Jim and Bones, as she made her way away from them, leaving a trail of cinnamon-y fragrance in her wake.
Spock stared after her, his face blank as ever, before turning to Uhura, and asking in his insultingly neutral tone, "I presume I said something to offend her?"
"Yer damn right, ye did, you heartless…" there Scotty struggled for a word, unsure what to call his commander (although Bones would gladly help fill in the blank). His mouth flapped for a few moments before he simply gave up and ran after Gaila, just barely managing to avoid hitting his little alien friend on his way out.
Keenser watched as Scotty went, his large black eyes following bemusedly, before he entered the room. In his hands was a pan that was at least half as tall as he was, with a ham that was easily the size of his head—and he had a relatively large head. He walked slowly up to the counter where he deposited his charge before he looked around to the other six people in the room. He shook his head, his grim face adding to what they all assumed to be disappointment. He pulled a step-stool out from one of the corners, putting it in front of the ham and reach over with one of his coral like hands to taste Gaila's glaze. With a nod of satisfaction he pulled out a brush from one of the drawers and began to put the glaze onto the ham.
Nyota pursed her lips before moving in the same path that Gaila and Scotty had already travelled, muttering, "I should help Scotty calm her down."
Sulu finally pulled Chekov away from the wall and towards the loose circle where Bones, Jim, Spock and Keenser were located. Left alone while Keenser basted his ham—a thought which still made Bones nervous, especially since he had learned that Gaila had made the glaze—the five men stood in silence for several minutes on end. After that, Bones just couldn't take it anymore.
"That's a real nice hat, ya have there, Spock."
Spock turned his head stiffly, and if a Vulcan were ever inclined to use profane language, Bones would be on the receiving end of such an occurrence.
"I do not believe that such a statement should be dignified with a response of any sort."
Jim leaned over to Bones, whispering in his ear, "Spock's special way of saying 'fuck off.'"
The Vulcan turned his glare to their captain. "Thank you for that helpful, but unnecessary, translation, Jim."
Bones grinned. "It was just a compliment, Spock."
Spock stared at them both for a few scant seconds with what Bones swore was a hint of a blush across his cheeks, finally decreeing, "I believe you gentlemen have dishes to prepare."
He turned and walked away, his back stiff as a board, and his chin held high, and Santa hat swaying gently on his head. Sulu and Chekov both stared at the two of them, their eyes wide as if they still couldn't quite believe that they had made fun of Mr. Spock. Bones didn't know why that still shocked them so. He and Jim had been doing it for the better part of a year and a half.
They left not long after Jim began cutting up the apples for his apple cider. He had decided he was going to go all out on this and make it from scratch, which had required a few thing Bones hadn't even been aware the Enterprise carried, such as cheese cloth and a potato masher. Keenser, after basting the ham, put his pan into the cooling unit with the firm instructions of, "Don't touch."
After the little alien left, Bones began his task of making the Pecan pie, working around and with Jim, and helping make the biggest mess that the Enterprise had ever had the misfortune to experience. There was flour everywhere, and spots of all-spice smelling liquid from Jim's pot, or sweet syrup-y goodness from where Bones had accidently spilled from his bowl. There may or may not have been an incident where they got into a tiny food fight with the sugar, but it would remain a mystery to all those not present in the room for the rest of time.
They stayed in the kitchen for the afternoon, figuring it was a safe place to be as well as so Jim could keep an eye on the hot cider. Several of the other Senior staff came in at different points. Spock and Gaila came in to make their creations for the dinner. Spock was making a salad from vegetables that Spock Prime had managed to recreate from Vulcan. Gaila made a vegetable medley that didn't require much work, but it didn't stop a few of the others to stop by and make sure she was doing it properly this time.
By early evening, everyone was finished cooking, the ham had been baked, and Bones was surprised to find that it actually smelled delicious. Scotty, Chekov, and Sulu had been blessed with the task of moving all the food into Rec Room 7, while Bones and Jim cleaned up the kitchen. It occurred to Bones as he was sweeping that he and Jim hadn't been in the dinner room at all, but that had seemingly been where the rest of the crew spent their entire afternoon. He wondered what other monstrosities had been inflicted on the room while he and Jim had been safely tucked away in kitchen four. It had looked Christmassy enough when they had left last night. After five more hours, Santa would be ready to move onto the Enterprise as home away from home.
Jim's comm went off and Sulu's voice erupted into the room. "Are you guys going to come eat, or what?"
Jim smiled, washcloth still in hand as he commed back, "We'll be there shortly." He threw the rag down on the counter and bounded over to where Bones was sweeping all the messes into one main pile. "C'mon, Bones! It's dinner time."
Jim was so giddy as he tugged on the doctor's t-shirt, he was practically vibrating in place. The smile that stretched across his face lit up his eyes and made him look younger and younger by the second. Bones couldn't help return his own smile, reaching up his hand to cup Jim's cheek lovingly before he was yanked away towards Rec Room 7.
"Jim, slow down. The food won't disappear in the minute and a half it takes us to walk to it," he said as he jogged behind Jim.
In front of him the captain chuckled. "Aw, Bones, don't you have any Christmas spirit?"
Bones had to admit, he hadn't had much since his was twenty, but he was getting a lot of it back.
Jim ran up to the doors, which automatically whooshed open for him to enter. He didn't enter, though. He stopped dead in his tracks. Bones loped up behind him, looking at Jim worriedly. "What is it?"
He then caught sight of the room. Someone had decided that it would be a good idea to dim the lights to fifty percent, and more lights had been found (probably by Chekov, knowing his ability to find anything even remotely holiday-ish) and strung up across the ceiling, casting most of the room into a multicolored rainbow. The tapestries that Spock and Gaila had hung up on the walls glittered and shimmered with unseen sequin and one of them had been saved for the round table everyone was seated at. And that damn tree…
What had been the ugliest thing Bones had wished never to lay eyes on again last night, was transformed in the dim multicolored light. The lights on it struck the ornaments, paper cranes and fans, even the damn cranberry imposters, making them all glow. If Bones had felt poetic, he would have said it looked like a very heavenly tree. The leaves, bowl-like and stiff and still purple, seemed pearlescent in this light, adding to the total effect, and not nearly as creepy as it had been last night, even if the lights and bells did throw creepy shadows around the trunk of the tree.
"Well, I'll be," he said, looking to Jim whose eyes had yet to stop taking in the room. The wonderment in his eyes was breath-taking. Bones almost wished he could capture that look forever. He felt like the Grinch; his heart was growing and beating so rapidly as he watched Jim take in the beauty of the room.
From the table, Scotty broke their trances. "Oi! I think the two o' you are disrespecting an old tradition."
The two of them stared at Scotty as if he had finally and officially lost his ever-loving mind. He looked like he had, too, sitting there with a huge grin on his face, pointing to the ceiling enthusiastically—along with Sulu and Gaila.
Bones didn't even have to look up to remember what they were talking about. He had forgotten about the damn mistletoe. It had looked so pretty in there; he had overlooked the fact that Sulu had hung half the universe's stock of mistletoe in this one fucking room.
"Aw, geez!"
Next year he was just going to eject the plant into space!
Jim rubbed the back of his arms, soothingly, a smug smile back on his face. "C'mon, Bones. Its tradition," he said, giving his elbow a firm tug, and throwing his other arm around the doctor's waist.
He let out a sigh, shaking his head gently, before hooking one hand behind Jim's neck and pulling him in for a small kiss that was more lips and nibbling than anything else: just enough to please the crowd at the table, while making it more than clear that this was in a no way a chore for either of them. Now was as good a time as any to call it quits at the game he and Jim had been playing with the crew.
As they parted, Jim brought his hand up to rest against Bones' cheek. "Merry Christmas," he said quietly.
"It's turnin' out that way," Bones agreed, giving Jim a peck on the lips before turning back to the crew. Sulu and Chekov both looked affronted, while Gaila…and oddly enough Nyota looked like they were contemplating whether or not they should ask for a repeat. Scotty was reclining in his seat with his hands behind his head, looking quite satisfied with himself. Spock, well Spock was asking for Keenser to put a little more of Uhura's fufu on his plate.
"You are already dating!" Chekov accused, his eyes wide and his mouth probably permanently positioned to look like a fish.
Jim shrugged theatrically, throwing his hands up, and pasting a chastised look onto his face. "Guess the cat's outta the bag, Bones."
They walked over to the table, taking the two seats that had been left open for them (side by side, because even if they hadn't been a couple, that's how it was arranged every time, though Bones was beginning to think at least part of this shindig had been an elaborate scheme to get he and Jim together).
"But at least the elephant is out of the room," he told Jim.
Gaila, who was seated close to Scotty, laughed. She was obviously in a good mood again since the disaster in the kitchen. "Humans have such strange sayings."
They passed the food around the table, spooning a little of everything onto each plate. Spock didn't partake in eating the ham, and Keenser only made himself a sandwich with some of the ham, some yam paste, and the bannock (that caused some of them to grimace). They were all dressed in civilian clothes, except for Spock, but he had that hat on—which would cause Bones amusement for the rest of his life.
"Did you make Spock wear the hat?" he asked Nyota, who he was sitting next to.
She smiled adoringly as she reached over to gently play with the white fuzz at the end of the hat. "No, this is his hat," she said. "Christmas was the only holiday his mother continued to celebrate on Vulcan. She always made Spock and Sarek wear the Santa hats, and they would eat a festive salad." Probably the same salad Spock had made for the dinner.
Bones almost felt like a heel for what he had said earlier, but Spock didn't let him have the time to dismiss his urge to apologize.
"We did not celebrate in the way she did on Earth. It was simply a day that she demanded father and I stay home for the entire day. She refused to let me participate in school functions, and father had to abstain from his ambassadorial duties." There was something almost like a smile curling at Spock's lips. "Father would go to the garden to retrieve the vegetables mother would need for the salad, while I would keep her company in the kitchen as she mixed the ingredients for oatmeal cookies. She never wore a Santa hat, but she had a white dress that she always wore for the day.
"After dinner we would enter into her study, where she had a traditional camera set up, and we would take a picture so that she could put it in her scrap book." His almost-smile left, replaced by his normal blank face.
It was the most information Spock had ever divulged about his family in one sitting. It was definitely the most he had talked about his mother since her tragic death two years ago. Bones was sort of surprised that he had chosen to speak about the most human thing he had done as a child. He had unwound quite a bit since their first mission on the Enterprise but he was still incredibly Vulcan. Bones got the distinct impression that the scrapbook had meant a lot to Spock as well as to his mother.
The silence that had taken over the room after Spock's reminiscing was somber, everyone staring at their plates. Uhura covered Spock's hand with hers, giving him a tender, proud smile.
"Perhaps…ve could take a picture as vell… after dinner," Chekov said hesitantly.
Spock looked up at him sharply, before tilting his head in acceptance. "I find that quite agreeable, Mr. Chekov."
"That's brilliant, Pavel," Nyota said—more like translated in Bones' opinion—smiling at him genially.
The rest of the table put in their vote of agreement, even Bones. The atmosphere cleared considerably, returning to the way it was before Spock's (Bones almost hated to admit it) heart-wrenching story. Chekov and Sulu gathered Jim's attention, demanding answers about how long he and Bones had been together, when they got together, and why the Crew had not been told. Bones listened to Scotty and Gaila talk, having to hide an amused grin at the way they slowly began leaning towards each other the longer their conversation went on.
Spock and Nyota shared small conversations with each other, and at one point she dipped her finger in the glaze of the hand and brought it to his mouth. The doctor was sure had the lights been on at one-hundred percent he would have been able to see a green blush tinting Spock's cheeks. As it was the Christmas lights cast colorful halos on everyone's head, making the happiness in the room seem visible. He startled a bit as Jim touched his hand, but recovered quickly, twining their fingers together under the table and giving the captain a quick smile, before his attention was directed elsewhere.
"Len," Nyota called. Bones once again had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the nickname. "Why didn't you tell us about you and Kirk?"
Jim cut in for a moment, putting his conversation with Sulu on pause, "Its Christmas. You have to call me Jim tonight."
She tried and failed to stifle an amused grin. "Fine, Jim." She added almost as an afterthought, "You can call me, Nyota… just for tonight."
The captain didn't try to hide his smile. He nodded happily, then turned back to Sulu, asking, "So, you really put up all of this mistletoe in an elaborate scheme to get me and Bones together?"
"It wasn't a scheme!" Sulu denied quickly.
Uhura pulled his attention back towards her. "Why the big secret?"
The doctor shrugged. "It wasn't a secret. We thought we'd be found out after the first damn month. When we weren't, it sort of became a game as to see how long it would take for everyone to figure it out. We didn't mean any harm by it." He left out the part where Scotty and Spock knew. He would save that as blackmail against the two later.
She seemed fine with what he told her, not holding it against him. Looking to Jim she leaned closer, asking him quietly, "He's good to you, right?"
He smiled. "Best ever."
She nodded and went back to her almost empty plate. Bones continued listening to the conversations around.
Gaila asked Scotty, "Why aren't we passing gifts around? I thought that was part of Christmas, too."
"Well, that's a bit outdated, lass. Humans stopped that about a century ago when everyone realized that we were just givin' presents out because of a date, an' not for the true reason gifts are meant to be given. Presents should be spontaneous an' meaningful." He took a sip of Jim's hot cider. "Besides, this is a present enough, donae ye think?"
She put her green hand on his shirt, giving it a gentle squeeze. "This is definitely a great gift."
Bones couldn't agree more.
The noise at the table soothed him, and he found it easy to sit back and observe rather than to participate. He enjoyed the relaxed way they all interacted with each other. Spock had discreetly put his hand on Nyota's back and she leaned into him, while laughing at a story Chekov began to tell about how Christmas had been invented in Russia. Chekov had, at some point, decided that the simple chairs they were seated in was too painful for his boney ass and was now standing behind Sulu, giving him a light shoulder massage. Gaila had moved her seat closer Scotty, and laughing loudly as the Scot began to argue with Chekov about how Babushka had met with the three kings when they had been coming to Bethlehem from the desert.
Jim snickered along with her, but the rest of them shook their head in varying forms of fondness and irritation. When Jim saw Bones rolling his eyes, he took their still entwined hands and brought the back of Bones hand to his lips.
That was about the time Keenser snapped a picture of them all, having gone off unnoticed to retrieve an old fashioned camera from no one knew where. He looked at the LCD screen, displaying the picture of them, and nodded to himself. He then took off again without a word, leaving them all to stare after him with shocked, but appreciative looks on their faces.
The next day, they would all wake up to find actual paper copies of the picture in front of each of their quarters. Keenser had caught them all perfectly, frozen forever in a bliss that only they could understand, with Scotty and Chekov pointing at each other. One of Chekov's hands was still on Sulu's shoulder and the young Pan-Asian pilot looked up at him with a small, fond smile. Gaila had moved her hand up to Scotty's shoulder, her smile wide as she laughed at the two of them. The other four may as well have been in their own worlds. Nyota had reached over to Spock to fuss with his hair, probably to pull some white fuzz out of it, and he was looking at her with what most would consider a lack of emotion. However, to those who knew what to look for, he was practically grinning like Gaila.
Then there was Jim and Bones, both looking at each other as Jim pressed his lips to the back of Bones hand.
As some of the crew came back to maintain the ship, the Senior staff went down to the planet the Enterprise was orbiting, intent on finding a scrapbook of some kind. Jim smiled at Nyota, telling her appreciatively, "That was a damn good idea, Lieutenant."
Bones didn't even care to think the words, I knew it.
Nyota nodded at him. "You can call me Nyota."
Bones would not hesitate to tell you, he was looking forward to next Christmas.