Nope. Not finished yet. But I still stand by having it done by Valentine's Day. Seriously.
I can't thank you all enough for the incredible encouragement and support I've received for this goofy little story - you all blow me away, really.


In memory's telephoto lens, far objects are magnified.
~John Updike


~o0o~

Spock has to admit to himself that he had not envisioned himself spending Christmas morning in this manner. Granted, he had truly not devoted a great deal of thought to the holiday at all until quite recently, when it had come to his attention that the celebration meant a great deal to Jim.

He realized at that time that if the holiday is meaningful to Jim, it is by extension also meaningful to himself – because nothing, not anything, is more important to Spock than Jim.

He finds it somewhat surprising, after all the time he has spent vainly trying to ignore or deny it, how easy it has become to simply acknowledge the overwhelming love he feels for Jim – even if he has not yet had the chance to tell Jim about these feelings.

Now, Spock can only wonder now why he has waited so long to do so.

Jim is currently sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, and Spock has been able to closely observe his reactions – his unguarded joy – at the exchange of gifts that has been taking place between himself and his crew members. Spock is amazed by the amount of thought that Jim has put into each of the gifts for his friends; every present has been selected with the recipient's interests and preferences in mind, and he has no doubt that these gifts were not easily procured – especially out in deep space.

Upon further reflection, however, Spock realizes that while Jim's thoughtful consideration is certainly admirable, it would be in no way surprising to anyone with a true understanding of Jim's character. He routinely puts the well-being of others above his own – and the health and happiness of his crew comes above all other things. Knowing as he does now that Jim has considered them all to be part of a family, Spock understands his kindness and generosity in gift-giving all the more.

Jim is laughing now, blue eyes alight, as he teases Chekov about the number of Nyota's cinnamon rolls he has consumed – and although the moment itself is unremarkable, Spock finds that he must clamp down on a sudden surge of pure love that almost overwhelms him.

Somehow over the course of the morning, Jim has moved closer to Spock – or, perhaps, Spock has moved closer to Jim.

It is immaterial who has moved, Spock decides. But with Jim so near, he must now actively resist the strong urge to reach up and stroke back a strand of his dark golden hair, which is still in some disorder from the previous night's sleep.

He wonders absently what Jim would do if he did not resist that urge – and he hopes most fervently that Jim might think of him as something more than simply a member of the family. He tries to warn himself against unreasonable optimism, but cannot heed even his own caution at this time; Jim's behavior in the time they have been together this morning has caused him to truly believe for the first time that his optimism may be justified.

Spock has felt encouraged by Jim's casual displays of affection toward him this morning; on two occasions, he actually placed an arm around Spock's shoulders in an attempt to comfort him when they had discussed his late mother. Moreover, Spock is well aware that Jim fully understands the nature of Spock's touch telepathy; when he had put his arm around him, Jim had to know that Spock would be readily able to identify any of Jim's more obvious emotions during the course of such a contact.

The emotions had indeed been obvious; happiness, comfort, and a rush of warm affection that had nearly taken Spock's breath away. There had been a sensation of something more, just below the surface – though Jim was obviously trying to suppress it. Spock had recognized it right away, as he had a great deal of his own experience trying to suppress the same feeling.

He had felt it between them earlier, in his quarters, and he knew that the hot urgency running like a current beneath the warm affection was almost certainly desire. No matter what name it is given, this irresistible surge of heat is exactly like what Spock is feeling for Jim at just this moment.

At every moment.

"Bones!" Jim is smiling brilliantly at Dr. McCoy, and Spock returns his attention more fully to his surroundings. "You've waited long enough for your present – now it's your turn, buddy."

The doctor looks dubious. "Jim, tell me you didn't dig up another one of those damn inflatable dolls."

Jim tries (and fails) to look indignant before laughing delightedly. "That wasn't just a doll, Bones. It was a 'Life-Size, Deep-Throat Vibra-Doll!' I mean, c'mon, man. You know you were the envy of the Academy when you got that one."

McCoy is glaring and trying not to laugh at the same time – it is an odd look, but the doctor seems to be able to manage it. "And of course the entire Academy knew I'd gotten it, didn't they? When you fucking hung her out our window with my name written across her chest!" The urge to laugh overcomes the urge to glower, and the doctor chuckles in spite of himself.

"That was yours?" Sulu looks impressed. "I just always figured it was Jim's."

"Jim never needed one," McCoy counters, laughing. "He had his reputation to think of, after all – too busy screwing any consenting biped that passed by."

Spock stiffens slightly at that remark, and then suddenly Jim does as well – an odd reaction for the captain, since he's usually the first to make light of his reputation as a "man-whore."

"Bones," he says quietly, with a significant look in his friend's direction.

The doctor looks from Jim's suddenly serious face to Spock's, and puts two and two together with impressive speed.

"Or at least that's what he liked everyone to think," he continues. "But now the gruesome truth will out, won't it, Jim?"

He grins broadly, leaning forward as if to impart a deep, dark secret.

"You know all those 'conquests' of Jim's?" McCoy waits for eager nods from Pavel and Hikaru – and an eye-roll from Nyota – before continuing in a stage whisper. "Here's the honest to God truth; they never happened. Not a damn one of 'em."

"What?" Pavel's voice goes up half an octave with the startled exclamation. "You can't mean…"

"Yep." McCoy is obviously enjoying this. "All those times he was supposedly cutting a swath through all the pretty cadets of either gender – and any number of species? You'll never guess what he was doing instead."

Now, amazingly, Jim looks embarrassed. "God, Bones – you don't need to tell 'em everything, do you?"

The doctor's grin widens. "Oh, I think I absolutely do, Jimmy-Boy." He reaches over from his seat in a chair nearby to pat Jim's knee with exaggerated affection.

"All right – I'll bite." Nyota looks curious, in spite of herself. "What exactly was he doing?"

The stage whisper again – and McCoy looks entirely too pleased with himself. "He was – wait for it – studying."

"Studying?" Now Pavel's voice makes it up the entire octave, and his mouth has dropped open in astonishment as he stares at Jim. "No fucking way."

Suddenly aghast, he claps a hand over his mouth. "Pardon me, Lieutenant," he says quickly with a sheepish look at Nyota.

But instead of being shocked by Pavel's rare outburst of vulgarity, Nyota is looking bemused. "But if Jim was… then, why did everybody…?" She stops in the middle of her own train of thought, shaking her head.

It's McCoy who makes sense of it for her. "Why did all those people swear they'd done the deed with Jim if they really hadn't? Well, think about it; you go on a date with the 'sex machine' of the Academy. Except the date begins, the date ends – and there ain't any sex. You wanna be the one to go back to tell your friends you're the first one he didn't screw?"

Nyota tilts her head, considering. "I see what you mean. That also explains why the stories just kept getting wilder as our time at the Academy went on – people were just making stuff up, and trying to top whoever had come before."

She leans back in her chair then, barely-suppressed merriment sparkling in her eyes. "So, Jim – all that time, and… not even with the farm animals?" Giggling, she dodges the stuffed cow that Jim throws at her.

Scotty shakes his head. "One of these days, you're gonna have to explain that charming little reference. But not today – I think I've had about as much speculation about Jim's sex life as I want to have for one day, thank you so kindly."

"Not exactly my pick for conversational topic, either, Scotty." Jim is still visibly flustered, and obviously looking for a way to detract attention from himself.

He hands McCoy a package from the dwindling pile next to him on the bed. "Here you go, Bones. And no, it doesn't inflate, and it doesn't vibrate – so just shut the fuck up and open it already."

Although Jim's words upon presenting McCoy's gift to him were casual, Spock notes that Jim is holding himself with a sudden tension in his body that had not been there previously. It is clear to him that Jim is anxious about this gift, whatever it is. For Jim's sake, Spock hopes that it is well-received by Dr. McCoy.

The doctor has torn the paper off of what looks to be a very large – and fairly heavy – book.

"If I didn't know better, Jim, I'd think this was a photo album." Bones looks intrigued. "Except I know you always make fun of me for having real paper photos – you like the digital stuff instead."

Jim's smile is tight and enigmatic. "True. But… well, just open it."

So he does – and Spock can see over McCoy's shoulder that the first page does indeed contain a photograph; the doctor gasps slightly when he sees it.

It is Jim, in what looks to be someone's private home – possibly at a kitchen table – and he is holding a small girl in his lap. In the moment that the photograph was taken, the two of them were looking at one another and laughing.

Spock does not recognize the child, but it is obvious that McCoy does – because he is looking over at Jim now with an expression he has never before seen on the doctor's face.

"Jim?" He sounds as though he does not entirely trust his own voice.

"The tab there underneath, Bones. It's a switch – pull it."

McCoy reaches down, and an audio recording begins to play.

"Hey, Daddy!" So – the young girl is Dr. McCoy's daughter.

"Heeeey, Daaaddy!" There is Jim's voice, now – and he is speaking in an exaggerated version of the little girl's accent, which is characteristic of inhabitants of the southern region of the United States. Spock notices that it is similar to Dr. McCoy's own accent, although significantly more pronounced.

She giggles. "Uncle Jim, are you makin' fun of the way I talk?"

"Shore 'nuff, Miss Joanna." Spock can hear the smile in Jim's voice; it is clear that he is very fond of the child.

"Well, that's not nice." There is a brief pause. "And you know what I do when you're not nice, Uncle Jim…!"

There are the sounds of a scuffle, and Jim's laughter interspersed with Joanna's giggles. "No, don't! Stop, Jo-Jo – I give up! Just no more tickling – you know how ticklish I am!"

"Well, then? What do you say?" She sounds gleeful in her "victory" over Jim.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't do it anymore, I promise!"

"You better not, or I'll do it again…!" Joanna is still laughing – and Spock looks up at the little girl's father now, to see him watching the photograph, transfixed, as though it is somehow the most precious thing in the universe.

"So, Jo-Jo?" Jim's recorded voice can be heard again. "You gonna tell Daddy what you and I are up to?"

"Yeah – Daddy, it's a surprise! We're gonna do this all year long!"

"You're going to sit on my lap and tickle me all year long? Really?"

Giggles again. "Uncle Jim…!"

"Here's the deal, Bones." Jim takes over the explanation. "Miss Joanna and I got to talking the other day, and she was saying how sometimes she forgets to tell you things when you two get a chance to talk. And she also said that you always seem surprised by how much she's grown up every time you get to see her. So, we had an idea."

"We're gonna do a whole book for you, Daddy! Uncle Jim says we're gonna call it 'A Year in the Life of Princess Joanna McCoy,' and I'm gonna get a picture of me every day with me telling you what I'm doing! Every day!" She is almost squeaking with excitement.

"It won't end up being a whole year, though." Jim's voice on the recording sounds apologetic. "We had the idea here visiting at your mom's house in Georgia – and you know we're here in mid-January. Or, well – we were here in mid-January, since it'll be December by the time you get this. I'm planning on giving it to you for Christmas if it all works out, so it'll be most of a year; enough to be worthwhile, I hope."

Joanna interjects again. "Grammy Nora says she'll help me take pictures whenever I'm at her house – and when I told Mama about it last night, she said she'd help me do it, too – so now you'll get to see me every day, Daddy! Even when you're back up in space and really far away!"

McCoy slowly closes the cover of the book, looking down at the floor to avoid the eyes that are upon him from all around the room. Finally, he looks back up at Jim, and his eyes are shining with unshed tears.

"Every day, Jim?" His voice is barely more than a whisper.

"Your mom helped a ton, just like she said she would – and Joss really was good about it, too. Jo-Jo would do an audio recording at some point during the day, somebody would take the pictures, and then either Joss or your mom would send them to me in a digital file every week or so."

Jim shrugs his shoulders slightly. "It wasn't really hard to put them all into this kind of a format… but I thought maybe you'd like to be able to go back and see Joanna and listen to her talking, just whenever you wanted to."

There is only a long silence in reply, and Spock can feel Jim's body tensing next to him again. "It is okay, right, Bones?"

Wordlessly, McCoy stands – placing his book onto the chair as tenderly as if it were Joanna herself – and seizes Jim's hands, pulling him into a standing position before wrapping him in a crushing embrace.

"You know it's okay, idiot." He draws a deep, shuddering breath, and lets it out again with an odd, strangled sound as he buries his head onto Jim's shoulder. "It's the most amazing damn thing I've ever seen – and I haven't even really seen it yet."

Straightening up again, he squeezes Jim once more before patting him on the back and releasing him. Now, it's McCoy who has an oddly tentative look on his face.

"What's more, you giving me this – well, it's kind of ironic, all things considered."

Jim sits back down on the bed – and if anyone notices that he is now even closer to Spock, they do not mention it. Spock, of course, notices; he is almost hyper-aware of the warmth of Jim's leg through his thin flannel pants as their knees touch inadvertently.

Spock does not move to discontinue the contact; Jim does not, either.

Meanwhile, neither McCoy's words nor his tone have been lost on Jim.

"Ironic? What's that supposed to mean?" He looks quizzically at his best friend, and the room is silent as everyone awaits the doctor's reply.

McCoy leans down to pull what looks to be the last package from under the tree, handing it to Jim with a smile that none of them besides Jim has ever seen – it is small but genuine, and Spock notes with some surprise that the expression transforms his entire face.

"Hope you like this, kid – I… well, you know." The doctor sounds flustered, and as though he might be having a hard time handling the emotional nature of this gift exchange.

Spock finds that feeling easy enough to understand.

Not taking his eyes off his friend, Jim begins to remove the wrapping paper from the gift – looking down in surprise when he realizes that he has unwrapped what looks to be an album that is very similar to the one that he has just given to Dr. McCoy.

"See what I mean?" The doctor smiles wryly. "Great minds, or something. But… well, this one's a little different – you'll see." He waves a hand at Jim as though to hasten his actions. " Just open the damn thing."

Jim does so – and Spock can feel Jim's sharp intake of breath rather than hearing it. He would gladly allow Jim to examine his gift in private, but the fact that they are sitting so close means that the book in Jim's lap is essentially in Spock's as well.

It is, as he had expected, a book of photos. This first one seems to have been taken quite some time ago, based on the clothing styles being worn by the people in the picture. There is a couple – a young man and woman – in front of a large Christmas tree, surrounded by two little boys and a tiny girl.

Jim looks stunned. "Bones?" He looks back down at the picture as though it might have disappeared when he had looked away. "Where… where did you get this?"

"Long story, kid – real long story. Let's just say it turns out you've got some distant cousins who managed to hang onto stuff."

Jim turns his attention to Spock, who is watching him intently. "These are my Grandma and Grandpa Kirk – and that little guy there…" he trails off, swallowing hard before speaking again. "That's my dad when he was – oh, I don't know, maybe five or six?"

"Who are the other children, Jim?" Spock hopes that his curiosity is not inappropriate.

"My uncle and aunt. Uncle Tib died in a shuttle accident when he was in high school, and Aunt Laura…" Jim seems unable to continue for just a moment, but then finishes the thought. "Aunt Laura was one of the original colonists on Tarsus IV. She was there when the famine hit… and she was one of the unlucky ones who didn't make it."

McCoy is looking stricken, and there is pain and remorse in his voice. "Jim – oh, God, Jim... I didn't think. I'm sorry."

Spock cannot help but think that there is something unspoken going on between the two friends that nobody else knows about. He wonders what it might be; he is privy to so many of Jim's secrets that he finds himself feeling somewhat disconcerted to be, in Jim's own words, "out of the loop."

"Are you kidding, Bones?" Jim leans forward to grasp McCoy's arm reassuringly. "This – this is fantastic. You know it is."

He turns to the next page in the album. The same couple is in front of another Christmas tree in the same room – although they appear to be significantly older this time, and are joined by another couple as well. A smiling young man who looks startlingly like Jim is holding a young boy in one arm; his other arm is around a beautiful – and visibly pregnant – young woman.

Jim smiles up at the doctor again. "Wow," he says quietly.

Gesturing to Spock, he points to the photo. "See that?" He points to the woman's gently rounded belly, smiling. "That's me in there. Dad's holding Sam – that was the Christmas before Mom and Dad were both assigned to duty on the Kelvin."

Spock looks over Jim's shoulder as he looks at the next photos; he does not comment, but it is clear that the pictures are of Jim himself as a small child with his brother Sam – and that all of the photos had been taken at the home of the elder Kirks over the course of various annual family Christmas celebrations.

"Do I catch a theme here, Bones?" Jim's words are teasing, but he is obviously deeply touched by his friend's gesture.

"Well, hell, Jim – it is Christmas, after all. I know you think I'm the biggest damn Grinch in Who-ville – but I do have my occasional redeeming qualities. And one of those is knowing you well enough to know that you'd probably want some family Christmas pictures if there were any to be had."

McCoy shrugs self-deprecatingly. "Turns out there were some to be had, that's all."

Jim turns a page now to a photo that is obviously much more recent, though it is still highly reminiscent of the ones before. A young man and a woman – evidently his wife – are sitting together on a sofa, each balancing one of two little boys on their laps. The lights of a Christmas tree softly illuminate the scene.

"Bones – that's… that's Sam, isn't it?" Perhaps Jim does not notice, but Spock notes the muted shock of the others that Jim would not readily recognize his own older brother.

"Yep – that's Sam. With his wife Aurelan, and his boys Peter and James."

"James? Seriously?" That information – that his brother has sons, and has named one of them after him – seems to slam into Jim, leaving him somewhat breathless. "Which one?"

McCoy smiles, then. "The little guy – Aurelan's holding him."

"Whoa." Jim studies the little boy in his sister-in-law's arms. "I'm an uncle – who knew?"

"Yeah, kid. Who knew?" The doctor leans forward, patting Jim's knee again. "Sam told me to tell you 'Merry Christmas' – he's gonna call himself later today."

That information sinks in for a moment before Jim asks another question. "I don't suppose I want to know what you had to do to find him, do I?" He is watching McCoy carefully, as though somehow he might be able to read the truth on the doctor's face before he speaks.

"It wasn't a big deal, Jim."

He sounds uncomfortable taking any kind of credit for his actions – though Spock, who is indirectly in charge of monitoring transmissions from the Enterprise to Earth and other planets, happens to know that McCoy had in fact spent months and devoted great effort to finding George Samuel Kirk before finally locating him in a small colony on the outskirts of the Alpha Quadrant.

Jim seems to understand this without being told. "Yeah, except it was. I know it was, because of all the times I tried to find him when we were still on-planet, and I was never able to do it."

He looks back down at the image of his brother's family – and only Spock is close enough to realize that Jim is trembling slightly now.

"You got me my family Christmas pictures, Bones – I don't know how to thank you." Jim sounds as though he is speaking through an unusual tightness in his throat.

"It's no more than you did for me, infant – but you're welcome, all the same." McCoy taps the page of the book in Jim's lap. "That's not all your family Christmas pictures, though – look at the rest of 'em."

Spock already knows what will be on those last pages, because he was present when many of the photographs had been taken. There are a number of shots of the Command crew preparing for this very celebration –and Jim seems especially amused by the photos that had been taken in Spock's quarters when the room was being used as a "staging area."

"How did you tolerate that mess, Spock? It had to have driven you nuts!" Jim's laugh is genuine enough, but somewhat shaky, all the same.

"It was, to use the doctor's words, not a big deal, Jim." As has been Spock's intention, Jim laughs again.

On the next to last page of the album is a collection – almost a collage – composed of many smaller photos. In the combined photos is, in one place or another, every member of the crew of the Enterprise.

"It's not just us who are your family here, Jim." McCoy sounds more sincere than Spock can recall having ever heard him sound. "There's not a soul on this ship – not one – who doesn't feel as though you're part of their family, and if you don't know it, you ought to."

He blows out a quick breath, as though is impatient with himself for getting so sentimental. "Look around this room, Jim – look around this ship. There are a lot of people who love you around here – probably some of 'em more than you even realize." If McCoy glances sideways at Spock after that particular comment, Spock chooses not to notice.

Jim swallows hard, tries to answer – but instead, ends up wordlessly dropping his head into his hand. The events of the morning – joyous as they have been – seem to have taken their toll on him, and it is obvious to Spock that Jim is becoming somewhat overwhelmed.

Without considering his actions, Spock reaches over to put a reassuring arm around Jim's shoulders, much as Jim had done for him earlier in the morning. Instead of shaking Spock's arm away as Spock had rather expected him to do, Jim stuns him by leaning into the gesture – and Spock instinctively pulls him closer still. He knows it is only a matter of seconds that they remain in that position, but the sensation of Jim's warmth pressed against his side is marked indelibly into Spock's sensory memory.

"I'm sorry, guys." Jim sounds more than a little embarrassed – he knows that everybody here knows him well enough to realize that has become far more emotional than is his habit. "It's just that you all have done so much, and I don't know what to say – or honestly, quite how to process it all. It's… it's just all so much."

"Yeah, it's been a pretty eventful morning." Hikaru is rising from his spot on the floor, and reaching down for Pavel's hand to haul him up as well. "Probably not a bad idea for us to clear out and let you have a little down time before everything else that's going to be happening today."

"Everything else? What are you talking about?"

"Christmas dinner tonight, Jim – among other things," Nyota explains. "Everyone who traditionally celebrates Christmas – and anybody who doesn't, but wants to hang with us anyway – we're all getting together for a big dinner of all the traditional favorites."

She winks conspiratorially at him. "That'd be everybody's traditional favorites – no matter what tradition – so I'd say it's going to be a pretty big dinner."

"I'd say it's going to be a heart attack on a plate, times four hundred," McCoy grouses half-heartedly – and Nyota laughs at him outright before continuing.

"We're going to have some carols, too ; you probably don't remember the women's choral group we had at the Academy, but most of the former 'Madri-Gals' are actually stationed on the Enterprise, and we've got a whole repertoire of some of the really good old Christmas songs."

Jim nods appreciatively. "Sounds awesome, but I'll only be able to stop in for a little while – I'm on Beta this evening."

"In fact, Jim, you are not," Spock interjects. "With prior knowledge of the events that would take place today, I took the liberty of removing you from today's scheduled roster."

"But Hikaru's right," says Scotty, rising from his chair. "Probably time to let you have your room back for a little while. Been a busy morning for all of us."

"Too true," says Nyota, taking the hand Scotty offers to help her out of her seat. "And some of us still have to help get everything ready in Ten Forward for the get-together tonight." She attempts to glare at the others, though the effect is entirely ruined by the smile she is fighting – unsuccessfully.

"You end up needing help, Nyota, just give me a call – I'm not on duty today at all, and except for my call with Joanna, I've got nothing on the schedule." McCoy looks almost surprised at himself for having offered assistance, but seems pleased when she turns that bright smile toward him.

"Thank you, Doctor – I'll do just that, if you don't mind."

He is blushing bright red, now. "My friends – or at least some of them – call me Leonard, if you're not in the mood to keep callin' me 'Doctor.'"

Scotty turns on his way out the door. "Seems to me that some of his friends call him 'asshole,' as well – though I don't hear him recommending that you call him by that nickname."

"Ah, fuck off, Skirt-Boy." McCoy smacks Scott along the side of his head with a gentle cuff of an open palm – though he is smiling as he does so.

"We'll see you later, Keptin – thanks again for my present!" Chekov is clutching his glass St. Basil's in one arm, with the other arm wrapped possessively around Sulu's waist. Sulu nods a farewell, and they are both gone – with Scott and Nyota right behind them.

"I'm outta here, too, Jim," McCoy says, stretching with a groan before standing up again. "Much as I like that easy chair of yours, spending two nights in it in a row isn't what I'd call restful. And if Uhura's going to lasso me into the party plans, I'd better go catch a nap."

Jim smiles affectionately up at him. "Or maybe you'd better go back to your quarters and get started listening to your baby girl and her book – right?"

The doctor laughs softly. "You've got me pegged, as usual." He reaches down to ruffle Jim's hair – leaving Spock fighting the urge yet again to restore it to order by running his fingers through it as well.

"I don't know how you came up with that idea, Jim, but seriously – it's the most wonderful thing you could have possibly ever done for me, and I think you know that."

Picking up the book, McCoy makes his way to the door before turning around to face Jim again - and though he is barely smiling, he somehow seems to radiate happiness. "In case you don't actually know it, I love you – you stupid little prick."

He is out the door before Jim can respond. Now, Spock and Jim are alone in the room – and Spock finds himself wondering how he should proceed.

"I am certain that, as the others have said, you would benefit from some time alone, Jim." Spock makes a move to rise – but is held down by Jim's hand planted firmly on his shoulder.

"Not so fast, Spock." There is a light in Jim's eyes that was not there even a moment ago. "I haven't given you your Christmas gift yet."

Spock's eyes drop to focus on his clasped hands. "It was not necessary to procure a Christmas gift for me, Jim."

"It was, Spock – but I know you don't do Christmas, so if you're worrying that you don't have anything for me, please don't. I'm not expecting anything."

"It is not that, Jim – I do indeed have a gift for you to honor the celebration of this holiday, and have had for some time now." He hopes that he does not look as supremely uncomfortable as he feels. "I simply meant that…" He realizes helplessly that he actually has no idea exactly what he'd simply meant.

"Spock." Jim's voice is as warm as the look in his eyes, and Spock feels drawn to him like a magnet. "You're trying to tell me that you don't want me making a big fuss over you – not for Christmas, not for anything." Spock nods briefly, and Jim shakes his head in reply.

"You don't get it, do you?" When Spock does not respond, Jim shakes his head yet again. "I think it's time we came to an understanding, you and I. Past time, really. But... first, there's this – here."

Reaching under the bed for a large, flat package, he hands it to Spock. "This is for you. I… I hope you like it."

~o0o~


As you've gathered, Spock's gift - and then some - in the next chapter.

(Just a heads-up - as I've gotten going with it, Chapter 8 is starting to go "M-rated" on me...)

Meanwhile - you know what? I'm not even going to bother to ask. You already know what I'd love for you to do.