I don't own Star Trek, I make no profit, and I still don't have my own little pointed-eared baby!
Santa's Other Little Helper
Kirsten Van Campen enjoyed her job as Head of the Personal Shopping division of Van Campen's Department Store. She had assumed that role when her mother retired a year ago. At Van Campen's, they took customer service to the utmost level. Their high-profile, deep-pocketed clientele appreciated this, along with the store staff's reputation for discretion. They would acquire anything a customer wanted, for a fee, provided that it was not illegal nor immoral.
The Vulcan Ambassador and the Embassy staff had been loyal Van Campen's customers for over forty years, ever since the Personal Shopping service began. It came as no surprise that Ambassador Sarek's son Spock preferred the same method of shopping. He was a cultured young gentleman and Starfleet officer, with exquisite taste. He sent her his list via subspace communication. Spock had chosen a few elegant and beautiful gifts for his wife and some expertly crafted, non-toxic educational toys for his infant son. The last item on the Commander's list was a total shock to Kirsten. However, he had stated his wishes most clearly, and the customer was always right.
Spock made his way to the cargo bay. Chief Larson was holding several packages for him down there. Some of these would be Christmas gifts form his or Nyota's family on Terra. He was hoping the the items he had ordered from Van Campen's Department Store in San Francisco would also be there. This would be his fourth Christmas on board the Enterprise.
"Good morning, Commander. You've hit the jackpot! I have six packages for you. One from Africa, one from Minnesota, two from New Vulcan, and two more from San Francisco. I'll lend you a trolley so you can take them all at once. "
Larson already had the packages loaded. He enjoyed this part of his job, interacting with happy crew members who were receiving something from home.
Spock examined the packages, looking for that special one. There it was, right on top.
"Thank you, Chief. That is is most appreciated."
"Not a problem, sir. Oh, I just remembered. It's your little guy's first Christmas. That should make it extra special for you and the missus. Well, Merry Christmas, sir."
"Merry Christmas to you, too, Chief."
Once in the family's quarters, Spock unloaded the packages. He put aside the large box from Van Campen's and placed four of the five other packages under the tree. Of course, he and Nyota did not set up an actual Christmas tree in their quarters. That would be both illogical and impractical, given the space constraints and the fact that there was a nine-month-old infant crawling around their quarters. Instead, they had designed a holographic image and projected it on the wall. Their son found it absolutely fascinating!
Spock opened the large box from his uncle and cousins in Minnesota. He was not surprised that it contained six jugs of Grayson's Finest Everclear. He would bring one to the Christmas Eve party scheduled for that night. There were also wrapped presents for himself, Nyota, and little Azizi.
Azizi! Spock had time for two more errands before he needed to pick his son up from the Childcare Center. He needed to return the trolley to Chief Larson and then stop in the ship's store to collect the items they were holding for him.
"Here you go, Commander. It's all here for you, and I put it in a basket, just like you requested. Tell Nyota and Azizi Merry Christmas for me."
"Thank you, Lt. Sanchez. I will do so. Merry Christmas to you."
"Sasa! Sasa!" Azizi crawled to his father at top speed. He lifted his arms. "Up, Sasa. Up!"
"Yes, my son, up!" Spock gathered his son into his arms and was rewarded with a noisy, wet kiss on his cheek. He hugged Azizi a little tighter. "How was he today, Petty Officer Alves?"
"He was a little angel, as usual, sir." Azizi was one of Jorge's favorites.
"His mother thinks the opposite is closer to the truth, that he is often a little devil!"
"Not Azizi! He's just intelligent and curious. I expect great things of him. Merry Christmas to your family, sir."
"And to yours." Spock shifted his load a bit. He had the backpack with Azizi's personal gear, the basket from the store, and of course Azizi.
"Let us go, my son. We have a few things to do before we go to the Christmas party. We will take these things to our quarters and get ready. Your mother should get off shift in a few minutes."
"Mama!"
Spock set Azizi in his playpen and the basket on the table. He opened up the backpack and dumped Azizi's soiled clothes into the laundry basket. The child seemed to go through three complete outfits everyday. Spock took a sonic shower and then got himself mostly ready for the party. He put on a clean t-shirt and casual trousers. There was no point in finishing until he had fed and changed his son. Azizi had an uncanny ability to begin spouting from any and every orifice of his body just when it was least convenient for his parents!
Nyota arrived in their quarters just as Spock finished giving Azizi his dinner.
"Mama! Mama!"
"There are my handsome men!" She gave Spock a hug and a kiss, and then spent several minutes cuddling Azizi.
"Okay, Mama needs to take a shower and get dressed. You be a good boy for Sasa and let him dress you too, okay?"
"'Kay, Mama!"
Spock cleaned the boy up and changed him into his new outfit from Van Campen's. He set him back in his playpen and finished dressing himself. He had put on a dark green turtleneck under a black sweater. All that remained were the finishing touches.
When Nyota came out of the bathroom, she burst into hysterical laughter at the sight of her son.
"Spock, I don't believe you did this! He'll be the hit of the party! Put the hat on him and I'll get the camera. We need a picture of this so we can embarrass him in front of a significant other someday!"
Spock complied with Nyota's wishes and put the hat on his son. He sat down on the bed, holding the boy on his lap. Nyota snapped several pictures.
"We need to send these to the family. Well, perhaps not to Sarek!"
"I suspect my father might also find this amusing. We should not exclude him. He is well acquainted with Terran humor."
Nyota quickly dressed herself in black trousers and a red sweater trimmed with white fur. She added a Santa hat to her ensemble.
"We'd better get going, Spock. Don't forget your own hat!"
The family got quite a few stares as they exited the turbo lift. It was not everyday that you witnessed a giant elf carrying his progeny through the corridors of a starship.
Leonard McCoy was not in the best of moods. For the fifth time in as many weeks, a crew member had contracted some unknown, alien virus. Fortunately, he had been able to quarantine the young woman and cure the infection before it spread throughout the ship.
Now he was tired and disagreeable, and expected to make an appearance at the ship's Christmas party. Well, it might not be total loss. Maybe Spock had gotten some more of that moonshine from his cousins. Those Grayson boys could brew some really fine hooch.
Though it had taken some time, Spock and Bones had finally become friends. They still argued their own positions of logic vs. emotionalism, but now they did it mostly because they enjoyed it and it was expected of them.
Spock had even come to regard the phrase "green-blooded, pointy-eared hobgoblin" as a term of affection, just as Jim saw it when Bones called him a "butt-headed, daredevil idiot with a death wish."
Azizi was indeed the hit of the Christmas party. He sat on his father's lap in the Rec Room, passing candy canes out to the guests. As each crew member received one, they would giggle and tell him "Merry Christmas Azizi!"
Azizi would clap his hands and laugh, causing his whole body to shake until the bells on his little green slippers jingled.
McCoy finally made it to the Rec Room. Over on a table with the other illicit beverages was the familiar blue and white jug he was seeking. He poured himself a generous amount and scanned the room for a friendly face.
Azizi spotted him first. For some reason, the grumpy doctor was one of the little guy's favorite people.
"'Coy! 'Coy!" Azizi clapped his hands and squealed with laughter.
"Where's my little buddy?" McCoy finally spotted the elvish family and doubled over in laughter. When he had finally settled down, he demanded "Give me my godson!"
Azizi held out his arms. "Up, 'Coy, up!"
McCoy took the little fellow, who gave him one of his famous wet, sloppy kisses. Suddenly the doctor's bad day was just a distant memory.
"Thanks, little guy. You gave me back my smile for Christmas. You really are Santa's little helper!"