It was the 24th of December, 6:00 a.m. sharp. Spock's usual morning wakeup call came from the faint alarm buzzing beside the bed. Jim hadn't shut it off; Strange. The Vulcan blinked open his dark amber eyes, reaching and flipping the switched to silence that obnoxious noise. He looked down at the space where Jim normally slept. Under the covers, he saw the outline of his body and on the pillow, mostly covered by the blanket, a small tuft of dirty blonde hair.

"Jim, it is time to wake up and begin the day." Spock said in a clear and deep tone, seemingly unaffected by the early hour. He brought a hand down to his husband's shoulder but found the body that was supposed to be there gave way. Soft and pliant, like…a pillow; simply illogical. Spock took the blanket, tugging it down a few inches.

The tuft of blonde hair did not end, in fact, where Jim's face should be, sat a round ball of fur that matched the captain's hair color. When it had been exposed, it began to shake and purr, making the typical cooing noises that all tribbles made. "Fascinating." Spock muttered, picking the tribble up in his hand and rotated it. Attached to the underside was a little paper note tied around a small tuft of fur, in Jim's sloppy handwriting,

"Mornin', babe."

Spock stood, holding the tribble in his hand while staring at it with a perplexed expression. Why would Jim leave a tribble in his bed? Was this some Terran form of a joke? The Commander did not dwell on it, he had 15 minutes and 28 seconds to report to the bridge. So with the typical Vulcan stiffness, he went to their book shelves and found a medium sized box containing a few of Jim's belongings, emptied it on their desk, and then placed the tribble inside.

With his typical punctuality, Spock turned his attentions to readying himself. He went into the bathroom, removing his night clothes, and as soon as he pulled back the shower curtain his eyes went caught sight of the three tribbles resting in the corner of the shower. On the one that was resting on top of the drain rested a larger note on top of its body.

'Sorry, forgot to clean my hair from the drain'.

Spock couldn't help a sarcastic quirk of his brow, looking at the three tribbles who began to purr and tremble when he began picking them up. This was very odd. He brought them back into the bedroom, staring around wondering where he could put them. The bed would have to do. Soon, the tribbles were sitting on their bed, cooing and vibrating all around. The rest of his morning routine went undisturbed, no more furry surprises. So he dressed himself in peace and then made his way towards the bridge to have a much needed discussion with the captain about these antics.

Everyone on the bridge greeted Spock as usual, nothing seemed directly amiss. Uhura, Chekov and Sulu were at their posts working diligently. Jim was sitting in the chair, back to him.

"Captain, we need to discuss the invasion of tribbles within our quarters." Spock stated simply as he approached the chair. No answer. "Captain, this is highly important and absolutely incon-" His face dropped from inquisitive to being simply not amused. Jim was not sitting in the chair, but some red shirt was, slouched down so his legs appeared to be Jim and yet another, dirty blonde tribble was poised on his head.

"Was this an order from the captain?" Spock asked, looking nearly deadly with his emotionless stare. The red shirt stood up, offering him the tribble and the note that came attached to it.

"Y-Yes, commander." The young man stuttered out before leaving the bridge in a hurry. Spock stared at the empty seat and then the purring tribble in his hand. Uhura had her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. The rest of the bridge wore purse lipped smiles, also trying to keep themselves quiet. This was highly entertaining for everyone except Spock. He opened up the small folded piece of paper,

'Sulu has command of the chair. Head down to the med-bay.' Spock quirked a brow, staring at the note for a few more seconds; Humans were rather incorrigible.

"Sulu, I am under the assumption that you have already been informed of the captain's orders. You have the bridge until one of us returns. I will be in the medical bay should you require my assistance."

"Yes, sir. Have fun." Sulu replied as he stood and made his way over to the chair, sitting down without so much as a look to the commander. He couldn't contain himself. As Spock walked away with a tribble tucked under his arm, Sulu began to laugh, then Uhura, then the rest of the bridge. Illogical, impertinent, human beings…

Spock took his time, walking down the halls towards Sick bay. His eyes slowly scanned the halls for his mischievous husband and captain. The Vulcan appeared in the nearly empty medical room, a brow quirked upwards. Bones was sitting at his desk, looking over his PADD with a grief stricken face.

"Doctor McCoy, what is the meaning of all of this? Where are your assistants?"

"Spock…I don't know how tell you this." Bones look gravely serious, placing his PADD down and rubbing both his hands over his face. "But uh...there was an accident. Jim was trying to play one of his usual pranks on you and...he fell. He's pretty hurt. I have him safe in the intensive unit. You should probably go see him." The doctor spoke low and steady, not a single ounce of the true intentions of this leaking through is features. He was a damn good actor.

Spock's eyes went wide, staring at Bones in disbelief. Jim's antics nearly got him killed...again? Why wasn't anyone else educated on the matter? Perhaps that was Jim's wish, in attempt to avoid panic.

He wasted no time, quickly placing the tribble down on the desk beside Bones who had turned back to looking at his PADD, then went towards the intensive care room. It was dark in there, dimly lit and Jim lying in the bed.

From the door, he could not see any wounds but he accounted that for the lighting. "Jim?" He asked, voice shaking and much more expressive than he wanted it to be.

"Spock?" Jim wheezed, turning his head over to him. "That you?"

"Yes, Ashayam."

Spock stepped forward into the dark room; his foot hit something soft which immediately began to purr. The worry that had filled the Vulcan, the fear, all washed away. "Jim this is not humorous by any means. Please stop this."

Jim sat up, grinning wide, the lights coming on. "Oh come on, Pointy. Loosen up." He folded his arms over his chest with his cocky, shit-eating grin plastered on his handsome tan face.

Spock stared him down with angry amber eyes. "This was a step too far, Jim. You should not 'joke' about being injured. It is severely troubling, as I did not feel your pain and thought it was a possibility that you were shielding our Bond or perhaps worse, that it was damaged critically."

He was actually mildly troubled over this and Jim felt a little bad for it. A little, being the key here. Spock hadn't even noticed that he was standing with some of the scattered tribbles that had rolled away from the massive pile of fur in the corner. Jim glanced over it, then back at Spock, expression still smug as ever.

Spock did not register the subtle human hint to look in the corner, but he did hear a low growl. His head snapped to the left, eyes fixated on the massive pile of tribbles and the creature sitting directly in the middle of it. Hadn't he any logic, he would have assumed his heart would come shooting out of his chest. Spock stared perplexedly, looking as the creature nuzzled some of the tribbles, it then rolled them around with its square snout in a tiny grumble.

"Jim…How is this possible?"

"Took a bit of work and a lot of help but I made it." Jim didn't need to discuss prices or anything like that. It was Christmas after all, or close to it. "I knew you told me about the one you had as a kid so I thought, this might be nice to have on board until he gets bigger. Then we'll be stationed on planet anyway, he can run around and do his thing." He looked to Spock, smiling wide as the Vulcan slowly approached the pile of tribbles and knelt down beside it.

Sitting in the middle of the pile, playing and nuzzling the balls of fluff around, was a baby sehlat. He was no bigger than a mastiff puppy, dark brown fur and dull little fangs hanging down from under his upper lip. The sehlat looked to the Vulcan, sniffing him nervously before bounding into his lap. Spock let out a very human smile, hands instantly going to his fur. He knew that it was genetically engineered but that didn't seem to bother him. The nostalgia that came with it was most definitely worth it. Spock picked up the baby sehlat, holding it like he would a newborn child, eyes wide and glistening with what they described as "happy tears."

"This is truly a wondrous moment, Jim. What have I done to deserve this?" Spock asked, walking back over to him with the sehlat rubbed it's head all over Spock's chest in affection.

"It's Christmas Eve, dumbass; I couldn't wait another minute and I figured it'd be nice to celebrate with this little guy in our room." Jim smiled, sitting there with his legs hanging off the bed.

"You like it?"

"I believe that "like" is an insufficient term to describe my true feelings towards this gift, Jim..." Spock was touched, as now he had a piece of his home, something he thought lost forever…given to him by none other than Jim.

"Good to know…Merry Christmas, Spock." The captain leaned over and gently pressed his lips to the Vulcan's cheek.

The commander turned his head, to catch Jim's lips before they left him; A very human display that only seemed fitting for this memorable and wonderful moment.

"Merry Christmas, Jim."