I can now finally present my creation for this year's Kirk/Spock Secret Santa for Herenya_writes (on Tumblr and AO3)! And be sure to check out everyone else's wonderful works (collected on the kirkspocksecretsanta Tumblr)!

Many thanks are owed to my wonderful beta, Quill (on pillowfort; or starspotted on Tumblr), without whom this story would be significantly less coherent.

The first day of December was brisk and grey. All the deciduous trees were bare. Their brown leaves tossed and turned in the breeze, mingling with the flower petals of the native plants, now in full bloom. It had been raining on and off since Jim and Spock hurried to Starfleet Academy that morning, bundled against the sharp air. But as Jim stepped out for lunch that afternoon, and strolled across the courtyard, it wasn't even drizzling. It could have passed for a lovely fall day, perfect for lunch outside - as long as the gap in the rain lasted.

Jim waved off nervous salutes from young cadets and greeted his fellow faculty with a smile. Unfortunately, Spock's morning class didn't end until just before Jim's afternoon class began. If he strained his non-existent psychic abilities, he could just make out Spock's concentration on conveying some complicated equation to an attentive room of cadets.

Spock's attention briefly turned to him with an unworded question.

Jim quickly assured him that it was nothing - he had no intention of distracting Spock from his lecture - and returned to his own thoughts. He blinked his eyes open against the now overly bright daylight.

It was a shame Spock couldn't join him, but for Spock, the sharp breeze that Jim found so pleasant, and damp air were bitterly cold, even though they were wearing thicker uniforms. He never said anything, of course, but even without their bond Jim could always tell by how he lengthened his stride and stiffened his posture. Even inside the Academy, the atmospheric control was always kept a little chilly for a Vulcan, which, as Spock would say, was only logical, but Jim felt was hardly fair.

On his way back to his office, Jim took a little detour to the cafe on campus, crowded as always with cadets, talking and studying.

"Good afternoon, Captain Kirk," a woman about his age, whose uniform declared her to be a captain and fellow instructor, greeted him as they waited for their drinks.

"Good afternoon," he said with a smile. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

"Captain Becker," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I know you've had to get to know a lot of new names and faces recently."

"It's my pleasure to finally attach the face to the name."

Before either of them could say much more, their drinks were ready and for a little while they were occupied with picking them up. Jim exchanged a quick word with the cadet at the counter.

Finally, they started off back to the building together.

"Meeting up with a friend?" Captain Becker asked, indicating Jim's pair of insulated cups.

"Just thought I'd bring one back for Captain Spock," Jim explained.

She seemed surprised. "Oh, I'm glad everything's smoothed over between you. We all heard about the great rival captains of Starfleet, of course."

Jim had also heard those rumors, though it felt like he was the last one to find out about it. Apparently people thought that somehow there had been bad feelings between them when Spock had accepted a captaincy, which couldn't have been further from the truth—in fact, Jim was the one who had convinced Spock to accept it.

Jim quickly clarified, "There was no rivalry. I have nothing but the greatest respect and admiration for Captain Spock. And," he added with a grin, "no ship can compare with the Enterprise."

Over the bond, he could feel Spock's reply, Do not underestimate the Intrepid.

Meanwhile, Captain Becker seemed less than convinced. "I see… Well, I hope there's no trouble now."

That, at least, Jim could promise. "No need to worry, we're on best behavior."

They soon reached the building and amiably parted ways inside; Captain Becker returned to her office, and Jim took a detour on the way to his afternoon class to swing by the lecture hall that Spock was teaching in. The class was over by the time he arrived; there were just a few students left in the hall, lingering by the lectern with questions.

Jim waited by the door until they began to disperse, and only then made his presence known—not that Spock had missed his arrival.

Still, Spock raised an eyebrow at his unexpected appearance. "Captain Kirk, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Captain," Jim said with a wry smile, handing him one of the cups—hopefully the one containing Spock's preferred spiced tea and not Jim's coffee.

Spock took a deep breath of the aromatic steam. "Thank you, that is most considerate of you."

Jim shrugged it off. "Unless you'd prefer the mocha?"

Spock gave him a pointed look.

Only then did Jim notice that a few of the students had stopped gathering their things and were now observing the exchange with wide eyes. Not that it was altogether different from the looks Jim usually got. Even Spock, for all his aversion to the limelight, had begun to accumulate his own starstruck admirers.

"Your class, Captain," Spock reminded him.

Jim waved it off, but didn't linger as much as he wanted to. "Enjoy your lunch, Captain."

As Jim hurried back across the Academy campus, Spock projected over the bond, Thank you, Jim.

The next day was just as rainy. Jim was starting to long for flurries of snow.

He had been running late that morning, his raincoat forgotten in the apartment with no time to rush back and get it. By the time he made it to his office, he was soaked, bitterly half-wishing he had taken advantage of his renown and demanded to be transported directly into the academy. Spock had little sympathy to share, already preoccupied with an experiment he'd gone in early to work on, and Jim wasn't about to bother him when he would dry off soon enough.

It wasn't the best way to start the day, but he put it out of his mind and got to work. His uniform did dry out eventually, leaving it a little stiff but serviceable. He'd all but forgotten about the inconvenient weather by the end of the day. He was going through his students' latest assignment while he waited for Spock to finish checking up on his experiment. It was far from the most exciting part of his work at the academy, and eventually his eyes started to glaze over as he looked through yet another set of mostly identical responses. He wasn't sure if the sentences didn't actually make sense, or if he had just lost track of the words.

Finally, he put the rest of the stack aside for later—it wouldn't be fair to him or his students to keep grading in this state. He pushed away from his desk and leaned back to stretch out his no longer so limber back. He could distantly feel Spock stepping away from his own work and preparing to leave for the day.

Jim gathered his things, mentally preparing for the run back to their apartment through the rain. At least Spock would be just as eager to get out of the weather.

He stepped out into the hall to lock up his office just as Spock rounded the corner.

"Good evening, Captain." Spock greeted him formally, as though they weren't the only ones around, if not in the whole building. But Jim could see the affectionate smile teasing at his lips.

"Good evening, Captain," Jim responded in kind. He reached out to brush Spock's fingers with his own and, at the same time, leaned in for a human kiss—just a peck.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the display of affection, but Jim could feel Spock's own warm affection sparking across their bond.

As Jim pulled away, Spock slipped an umbrella into his hand.

"For me?" Jim asked, surprised. Although their minds were one, Spock still managed to keep his secrets. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Mr. Spock."

"You would quickly become drenched."

Jim gave Spock a look and let their shoulders gently bump together as they started off down the hall, ready to brave the weather at last. When they stepped outside, Jim waved for Spock to join him under the umbrella, even though he was already bundled up in his heavy raincoat. Spock obliged, and they hurried home huddled together, dry and comfortable in a little shelter of their own, as they watched and listened to the rain falling all around them.

A week or so later, Jim returned to his office after his first class in the morning to find a parcel sitting on his desk. It was precisely in the center and, if he had measured it, he was sure he would have found that it was exactly level with the sides of the desk. It was neatly wrapped in plain brown paper, addressed in beautiful, sweeping Vulcan calligraphy.

Careful not to tear the paper too much, Jim unwrapped the parcel to reveal an antique book, a copy of the classic Silmarillion, bound and printed on real paper with genuine ink. It looked like an early edition, old and a little faded, but still legible and not too much worse for the wear.

For the new year, Spock projected over their bond. Jim could distantly sense the class he was lecturing, not missing a beat as he conferred with Jim.

Jim conveyed as much of his gratitude as he could as he leafed through the weighty volume of legends of another world.

Jim had reluctantly put the book aside and gotten on with his work for the rest of the day. Some hours later, he was meeting with a cadet—bright but a little scattered. She had just gotten up to leave when she stopped short.

"Is that an original, Sir? I knew you collected antique books, of course, but I read Tolkein in school and he was a favorite of mine."

"It's a New Years present from Captain Spock. I just found it on my desk this morning, in fact."

"Oh!" She seemed surprised.

"Is there anything else?" Jim asked, perhaps a little pointedly.

"Oh, no, thank you!" she said and hurried to her next class.

Just a few days later, Jim and Spock were at home, sitting by the fire. Outside, a chilly mist hung over the city and clung to the window in droplets and rivulets, but inside they were cozy and warm. There was a bright, hot flame going, crackling around the logs. Jim was comfortable sitting a little ways out, doing a bit of reading and occasionally sipping a mug of hot cocoa. His free arm was wrapped around Spock's waist, keeping him close even as his legs stretched toward the fireplace, seeking the dry heat. Contentment radiated off of him as he quietly sorted his thoughts for the day, a cup of Vulcan spice tea cradled in his hands.

Jim was treacherously considering standing and stretching his sleeping legs when Spock remarked, his eyebrow raised, "It may be advisable for Starfleet to teach its cadets that not all species share humans' advantages and disadvantages."

"Hm?" Jim asked, putting aside his book.

"I overheard some of your students speaking in the hall this afternoon. Apparently word has quickly traveled that I had given you a New Years present. It has become a subject of much debate.

"Have they finally figured us out?"

"Not precisely. Instead it has been speculated that we are engaged in a competition over a New Year's gift exchange."

Jim groaned. "That rival captains nonsense again?"

"It appears to have taken a largely benign form. The cadets have concluded that we must have drawn each others' names in a faculty gift exchange and are competing to determine which of us can give the most impressive gift."

"And you're winning?"

"I appear to have the advantage."

"Well, we can't have that, can we, Captain?"

"I see no objection. I have a unique insight that makes me particularly suited to discerning the perfect gift."

Jim grinned back. "I'll have you know, I have ways of my own."

"Yes, Jim, I am well aware of your many gifts."

Jim kissed Spock on the lips and then finally forced himself upright on protesting legs, taking both of their mugs with him to refill them.

It wasn't easy to hide anything from his telepathic husband, but Jim tried. He went out on one of his free mornings, while Spock was busy teaching. The whole way there, he kept an eye on Spock's side of the bond just to be sure that he was still in class, and wasn't so much as thinking about what Jim was doing.

Eventually Spock asked, more affectionate than exasperated, Yes, Jim?

Just thinking of you, Jim answered with an easy smile, doing his best to focus on the words without giving any indication of what he was up to, which was easier thought than done.

Jim felt Spock's disbelief and could almost see his pointed expression, but he only replied, And I of you.

After that, Jim did what he could to keep his thoughts away from Spock, but he didn't entirely succeed.

So, Spock inevitably knew Jim was up to something. At least he was quiet about it, with only a quirk of his eyebrow and turn of his lips. Jim could only hope that Spock hadn't guessed what the gift was.

Then, on the morning that Jim had in mind for bringing his plan to fruition, they walked to the Academy together. When they arrived, Spock quietly went to his office, leaving Jim to his own devices. Jim did what he could to shield his side of his bond as he made his way to the lecture hall where Spock taught his first class. It was empty, as Jim had made sure it would be, and he quickly set the package, wrapped in bright silver, on the lectern and casually hurried from the room, back to his own office as though nothing had happened.

He spent the next couple of hours determinedly thinking about anything else, which wasn't so difficult with all the work he had to do, and only intermittently checking Spock's side of the bond. Spock seemed not to object too much to the occasional interruption.

Finally, Jim could feel Spock leaving his office for the lecture hall. As always, he arrived before the first students filtered in. And sitting in the center of the lectern where Jim had left it, he found the silvery package.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the object that was precisely in the way of where he meant to set up his padd.

Meanwhile, the first students started to arrive.

Go on, Jim nudged him.

Spock's eyebrow may have risen even further.

"Captain Spock," one of the older students spoke up, "I can take that to the office. Someone must have forgotten it here yesterday."

"I regret not, Cadet," Spock said, "But your conscientiousness is commended."

With that, Spock finally put aside his padd and picked up the parcel. Jim could feel him weighing the heft in his hands—it seemed like he really didn't know what it was. As far as Jim could tell, Spock couldn't hear anything rolling around inside.

He carefully, efficiently unwrapped it to reveal a fashionable case, inside of which was a small eyeshadow palette, mostly in blues and purples, with a few more unusual colors just in case.

This is very kind, Jim, Spock projected over the bond as he closed the box and stowed it away in his bag to begin setting up for class. Jim could feel his genuine warmth and gratitude alongside fond exasperation.

It didn't take long. By the time Jim arrived at his first class for the day, even he could hear a few students whispering about what sounded suspiciously like the supposed faculty gift exchange and all the accompanying drama between himself and Captain Spock.

Jim gave the cadets a little while to talk over the implications of his first gift and let the furor die down. Only then did he make his next move. On one of the few days when their lunch breaks overlapped, he dropped by just as Spock's last class of the morning was ending. While the cadets packed away their padds to go on to their next class, or to the mess for a hurried lunch, Jim went up to the lectern.

The whole class immediately stopped what they were doing and stood at attention.

He waved them down. "At ease."

Still, they took a moment to settle—this was one of Spock's younger classes and still a little jumpy.

Over the bond, Jim could pick up a snatch of conversation from the back of the room; "Do you think Captain Kirk's here about that competition they have going?"

Another student whispered in reply, "Who gets into a competition over a gift exchange? All that tension, they've got to be into each other. Just look at them."

"No way, Kirk was just being petty about Captain Spock's promotion."

"And…? Why else would he take it so personally?"

Another student frantically shushed them. "Captain Spock'll hear you - he's Vulcan, remember!"

Jim and Spock exchanged a look as Spock's attention turned away from the students and their conversation.

"Captain," Spock said in greeting. Even after all these years, it still sounded like an endearment when Spock said it. Jim could feel his affection echoing over their bond.

Jim smiled back, ready to give them something more to talk about. "Captain. Would you care to join me for lunch this fine afternoon?"

"I must return to campus by fourteen-hundred hours," Spock reminded him.

"That should give us just enough time. I've whipped up a few Vulcan delicacies. It should be better than the replicator, at least."

Spock had carefully scheduled some late evenings in the lab while Jim had worked on his latest gift. Jim could tell he had been expecting something elaborate, but not this.

"Don't worry, I've improved since last time," Jim said encouragingly.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him but, after all the students had reluctantly filtered out, allowed Jim to lead him out of the lecture hall.

"The rumors hardly require additional fuel," Spock remarked as they wound through the halls, but Jim could tell he was more amused than exasperated.

Jim grinned and shrugged. "What rumors? Can't I give a New Year's gift to an old friend?"

He detected the word incorrigible crossing Spock's mind.

Jim led Spock up to the courtyard on the roof. It was a rare sunny day, a little chilly for Spock, but the garden was climate controlled. They went straight for the desert section. Jim could feel Spock relax as they stepped into the warm, dry air.

"I should have gotten you thermal underwear," Jim suggested, only partly teasing, as he set out their lunch on a little blanket on the ground.

"My wardrobe is sufficiently warm," Spock insisted, sitting down beside him on the ground, his legs naturally folded as though to meditate. "However, this is a welcome respite from Earth's colder climate."

"One day I'll get you out to the cabin in Idaho for New Year's."

"That is very kind, Jim, but I regret that, despite its charms, it is hardly suitable for a Vulcan."

"There's nothing like sitting, cozy by the fire when it's snowing outside, drinking a cup of hot cocoa—or tea." Jim tried to project the image and all the accompanying sensations over their bond: the warmth of the two of them huddled by the fire, the rich smell of the smoke, the crackling of the logs, and the sweet taste of the cocoa.

"Perhaps," Spock relented at last, and Jim could tell that it held some appeal for him.

Their hands brushed together, sending a rush of affection across their bond.

And then they set about lunch.

"It appears much more edible than your previous attempt," Spock remarked after taking a bite.

"I told you I'd get it eventually."

"It looks like I win, Captain," Jim remarked, sidling up to Spock at the annual Starfleet New Year's party.

It was one of those big public to-dos, but Jim didn't mind it too much, especially not with good company. And they had a lovely view atop Starfleet Headquarters, looking out over the Bay. It was a nice night, if a little chilly. Spock was even more thoroughly bundled up than he was, but Jim knew he was still cold.

"You really had to turn it into a competition?" Bones said, joining them at the table. Jim had managed to convince him to come along, although he generally avoided Starfleet events - he insisted he didn't want anyone getting any ideas about dragging him back into space.

"We were not the ones who declared it to be a competition. I simply fear that Captain Kirk is susceptible to rumors, even about his own person."

Bones made a noise of disbelief.

"You didn't put up much of a fight," Jim acknowledged.

Spock raised an eyebrow, but did not protest. Jim, however, could tell that he was planning something—but with all of Spock's careful mental shields, he just didn't know what.

They milled around a bit as the evening wore on, mingling with the other captains and affiliated personnel. They had gotten separated around eleven but, as midnight approached, Spock found Jim in a prime spot by the railing, looking out over the water, waiting for the final countdown and the fireworks that would follow.

"Captain Kirk," Spock greeted him. "I would like to convey my regards to you for the new year."

"Thank you, Captain," Jim said with a smile, though he could tell there was something more on Spock's mind.

"As the year has not yet ended, I believe I still have time to present you with one additional gift." He drew a plain package out of his robes—it was amazing how much space they had, much better than pockets—and handed it to Jim.

It was a flat rectangle, about a square foot in size, and surprisingly soft. Jim glanced to Spock for a clue, but his only response was a silent, Go on.

So Jim did. He tore open the paper to reveal shimmering golden cloth that skimmed the ground as it unfolded. It was a robe, Vulcan of course, made of a heavier material for those cold desert nights.

"It's beautiful," Jim said.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement and helped Jim drape it across his shoulders, so he glowed like the sun.

Flatterer, Jim teased.

Spock brought their fingers together in a Vulcan kiss as the first fireworks sounded over the Bay, erupting in a shower of colorful sparks, reflected in the water below. They stood side by side, Jim's head on Spock's shoulder and their arms wrapped around each others' waists, watching the brilliant display and seeing in the new year.

-.

People milled about after the fireworks ended, getting in a few more New Year's greetings as they all filtered out. Captain Becker made her way over to Jim.

"I just wanted to wish you a Happy New Year and congratulate both you and Captain Spock," she said. "I'm glad you were able to finally sort out everything that was... going on between you. I hope you'll be very happy together."

Bones, who had been talking with Jim before she walked up, nearly choked on his drink.

"Thank you," Jim said. "It's been a lovely New Years back on Earth."

Bones shot him a glare as he regained the ability to breathe.

"Yes," Spock said, coming up from behind him—his hand naturally found Jim's—"It has been a most pleasant New Year indeed."