Disclaimers, warnings, thanks in chapter one.

~Part Four of Four: Most Wonderful~

Oh Zefram Cochrane and Galileo, I'm going to kill Gaila. I'm going to kill her until she's dead.

"It was delivered by courier to my office this afternoon," he said, still speaking in his ever even manner.

"Starfleet?" I squeaked, terrified that Gaila had truly lost the last of her non-sex focused brain cells.

"No, civilian," he said, his head tipped towards me. "You truly did not send this to me?"

"No. No. Oh, God, no. Spock. No," I stuttered, unable to get my words to catch properly.

"Then…," he began

"It's a present," I said, glaring at the all-too familiar piece of red humiliation sitting on the table in front of the couch.

Please don't let him think I'm a sex maniac instead of just being forced to room with one.

"I do not understand," he said, his voice more helpless than I'd ever heard it.

"A present from Gaila," I said quickly, my faculties finally returning. "She's been studying Earth traditions and, well," I waved my hand around my head, "it's December."

"Christmas," he said.

I nodded.

"And Cadet Gaila thought that…" his voice dwindled and he looked down at the red material sitting on the table. Sitting on the table and mocking me.

Yep. She was dead - and during Christmas, too; so sad.

"That I should wrap myself up like a present."

There was a moment of silence as he digested this alarming piece of information. When he spoke again, he was almost whispering. "You are meant to wear this?"

"So Gaila thinks."

"Do you wish to do so?"

"No!"

"No?" he asked his voice a bit stronger than before.

"No," I affirmed.

He was still staring at the…thing.

"I'm sorry," I said again, leaning forward with the intention of sweeping the bad joke back into the box Gaila had sent it in.

He put out a hand to stop me. He was still staring at the bow. "I am trying to determine the logistics of this item. For example," he picked it up and held it in front of us. "Where does this section go?" He flicked what appeared to be a shoulder strap.

I looked at him for a long moment, processing what I believed he was asking.

He tipped his head and began to turn the bow upside down. Seven months ago, I would've believed his interest was purely academic.

Now I knew better.

Holy Rudolph! I think he wants me to wear it.

"This is a most curious construct," he said, still studying the bow.

He's into lingerie. HE'S INTO LINGERIE! How didn't I know this before? Why is he into lingerie? Oh God! He's a man. I keep forgetting that. He's a man like every other man!

I stilled his motions, gently stroking the warm skin of his hand. "Spock, would you like me to wear this for you?"

"Only if you so desire," he said, his voice as calm and even as ever; however, his eyes had dilated and his ears were light green.

"Let's say that I do so desire. Would you be okay with that?"

He placed the bow into my hands. "I would be, as you say, okay with that."

I stared at it for a long moment.

I can do this. I am an intelligent, highly capable woman… who just happens to live with a woman determined to destroy me.

Spock sat very still beside me, anticipation arcing off his body.

And a boyfriend who obviously wants to unwrap me.

"Okay," I said briskly, standing and heading towards the bathroom before I had a chance to talk myself out of this.

"Nyota?"

I stopped and looked at him. He was standing, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes fixed on me – heated and melting.

"Shall I await you in the bedroom?"

"Bedroom. Good."

Goodish.

It wasn't until I was in the bathroom that I realized I was in completely over my head.

Gaila was right – this is too advanced. I do best with white and silky. Are there instructions with this thing? Why aren't there instructions? Loop here, no there, no there. Wait, where did that come from? Damn it! I'm going to have to call Gai…oh, wait, I see. Oh, no, I don't. How does this damned thing close? Why isn't there a sn…oh, there's the snap. The bow should be in front, not back….Oh, I get it.

And, somehow, through the miraculous intervention of some Orion sex deity, it was on.

The bow was uncomfortable; it kind of dug and chafed in sensitive areas that I didn't enjoy having chafed. But it didn't matter. It wasn't going to stay on for very long.

I hoped.

I took a deep breath.

Dear Santa….

I didn't even know what to ask for.

I made the journey from the bathroom to the bedroom without losing the bow or any skin – two feats of which I was inordinately proud.

I took my eleventh step and entered Spock's bedroom. He was standing in the middle of the room, resplendently nude – his penis already half-erect.

So he's really into lingerie.

Damn it! I hate it when Gaila's right about stuff.

"Nyota," he said, his voice an octave lower than normal. "That is a most becoming item of clothing."

"Really?"

"Yes," he murmured as he reached out and grabbed the ends of the bow. He used them to drag me towards him; I went more than willingly. He began to kiss my cheekbones, my eyelids; he nipped along my jaw as I tried in vain to capture his lips.

I parried, he feinted.

"Spock!"

"Mmmm?" he murmured as he brushed his lips across my collarbone.

"Nothing." His lips felt just fine right where they were.

"What is this material?" he asked, running the long ends through his capable fingers. I could feel the heat of his skin on my stomach, even though he wasn't close to touching me.

"Uhm, I have no idea."

"It is most pleasing," he said as he began to trace the outside of the ribbon, his fingertip gliding over the skin of my shoulder.

"I'm glad," I was able to say – though my voice was strangled by arousal. He'd followed the line of the bow from my shoulder to where it cupped my right breast.

"Most pleasing," he muttered again. His warm skin continued along on its leisurely journey, taking the time to trace the edges of the bow - across my breasts, the top of my rib cage, down the long line of my torso to where it dipped between my legs.

He knelt before me and my stomach twitched in anticipation. His eyes met mine through his lashes. "Spread your legs, Nyota." His voice was rough; it was a command, not a request.

I complied; he continued his explorations, his fingers stroking beside the slip of material between my legs – his skin slipping across the inside of my thighs.

"Spock."

He pressed his hands into my hips and spun me around, then his fingers brushed between the cheeks of my ass. He was still following the bow as it wound around my body.

I shook a little as he stood – his breath fanning across my back. He moved my hair aside and traced the thick band of material stretched across my back, and then he kissed the back of my neck.

His nails lightly abraded my arm as he pushed the silk off my shoulder. His lips followed the descent of the bow; he slipped it free of my arm and pulled my palm to his mouth - kissed it lightly, circled the tip of his tongue in short, tight circles.

Holy Oekon and every other god I've ever heard of!

He took my index finger into his warm mouth and suckled it gently, while his thumb kept pressing circles into the center of my palm. I fought to keep breathing. I heard a whimper and realized that it had come from me.

Then he was pulling at my shoulders, spinning me to face him so he could capture my lips. He was greedy and devouring. I had a brief glimpse of his face – all hard lines and glittering eyes – before he kissed the sense right out of me. I distantly felt the bow being pushed down and off of me. I definitely felt him nipping at my lips – causing them to tingle and swell.

His cock was hard and heavy between my legs, then the room tipped. He lifted me up without discernible effort and then, there he was, every last delectable centimeter of him – stretching and filling me like only he could.

I gasped, my eyes opening wide.

"Nyota."

I nodded and wound my arms around his neck, held on as he began to thrust. His hands were strong as they supported me, wicked as he moved me in tight circles around him, clutching desperately as he began to move erratically.

I moved my fingers down, to touch my clit – to add another layer of stimulation for us both. His eyes widened as he watched me.

The combination of my fingers, his movements, and his eyes staring at my busy digits sent me over the edge. I threw my head back and howled. I could feel his fingers cushioning my head, could hear his gasps in my ear as he exhorted, exulted - as he found his own release.

When I was next able to pay attention to anything outside of my quivering body, we were in bed. He'd carried us there, laying down beside my vibrating body and tangling his legs in mine. Our bellies and chests were pressed together, creating humidity.

His eyes, the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen, were gazing at me with wonder. His hands fluttered towards my face; I captured his fingers and guided them to the pulse points.

"Our minds – one and together," he said out loud; then he slid into my mind, and me into his.

Thank you, Nyota.

You…I didn't think…Why haven't you asked me to do this earlier? I questioned. You've never asked me to wear lingerie again – never seemed to want or need me to.

Ah, want and need are two very different things. I do not need lingerie – I need only you.

And want? I asked, even as I let the thrill at his words entwine the question.

It is most enticing, he replied. I find it alluring.

But you never…

I would not ask you to do such things, my Nyota. I could tell that you are not entirely comfortable with them.

That can change, I vowed. I was mainly uncomfortable because I thought you'd be uncomfortable.

I can never be uncomfortable with you.

Are you sure about that?

Certainly. His utter belief, his complete trust, in me flooded my consciousness.

I welcomed it – returned it. We floated there, in that place of pure communion, for a while.

So you think I couldn't do anything to rattle you? I asked finally.

I do not become rattled, he replied.

Let's see, I teased. What about this?

I sent him an image of my fantasies in the gym.

Oh.

Uncomfortable yet? I asked.

Not at all; but he gently broke the meld anyway.

I blinked dumbly at him as the meld faded. I could still feel the residue of his response to it – joy, pride, love – and a fair amount of smugness.

"It would appear that we should be discussing many things, Nyota."

"Out loud?" I asked, giddy with joy and terror.

"That is the Human way. I do not wish this relationship to be purely dictated by Vulcan practices."

"Okay, then. Let's talk. You like lingerie," I said.

"I appreciate how it complements you and how it heightens my response to you."

"You like lingerie," I said again, "And you'd be good with me wearing it more often."

"I would not protest if you made such a choice."

Vulcans!

"More naughty nighties. Got it."

His eyebrow flexed. "Naughty nighties?"

"Do you really care what I call them as long as I wear them?"

"Most logical," he said, kissing the tip of my nose. "And you wish to observe me as I exercise."

"Yes, but only if I get to pounce on you afterwards – so any exercising would need to be done here."

"Quite."

"And a smile," I said, touching his lips with my fingertips. "Once, during a meld, show me how your face would look while you were smiling."

His eyebrows drew together. "That is a strange request, Nyota."

I shrugged, "So is you tying me up and having your wanton way with me – but I'd do it for you."

"I do not wi-"

"Remember," I pointed out, "I can see as much of your thoughts as you can of mine."

He was quiet for a long moment. "That was a very brief thought."

I grinned and raised my eyebrows, "And yet I was able to pick it out."

"We may explore your request and…my request at a later time."

"Count on it," I said. I was determined to see that smile, even if it was just the thought of it.

"I will do so."

I snuggled my face into the crook of his neck. He smelled heavenly. "Merry Christmas, Spock. I love you."

He hugged me closer, his lips brushing my temples. "My Nyota."

"My Spock," I countered as I brushed my nose across the perfect curve of his chin.

"I am."

Dear Santa, I really don't need anything for Christmas. I have a family that loves and supports me – that taught me that who I am is all I need to be. The deity in charge of roommate assignments gave me a gift when he or she decided Gaila- and her irrepressible spirit – were just what I needed in a roommate. Gaila - I have Gaila. I have fingers that bought a book without my permission and lips that kissed Spock without input from the rest of me. My fingers gave me Dr. Kelly Flenderson, Psy.D., and her books. Starfleet gave me the Invitational and the Idiot Squad.

Kelly gave me Oxford and Spock…and there could be no greater gift than Spock.

However, Santa, with all that said, I wouldn't say no to a new pair of boots.

~~The story continues in Monogamy Rocks! and Cattywampus~~