Starfleet Academy, Second Year Christmas Eve

Spock

The computer screen flickered and buzzed, until an image of Spock's mother, Amanda Grayson, appeared on screen. Her blond, greying hair was pulled up in a bun, and she wore a traditional Vulcan garb – a shimmering midnight-blue robe shrouded within a black net.

Amanda's face lit up at the sight of her son. "Spock! It's been too long since I last saw you."

Spock tried to keep his face impassive, with little success. While he was raised on Vulcan, his mother was the only confidant he had.

"Hello Mother," he said slowly. He was unsure why he had decided to call her. Perhaps it was that human impulse to communicate with family.

His mother looked expectantly at him, and Spock eventually resigned. "I missed you, Mom." Why humans had several different phrases for the female parent intrigued him, though Spock suspected the term 'Mother' to be more formal. As it was, his human mother insisted he call her 'Mom', though Spock currently avoided using that term in public.

No doubt it would create some small gossip, due to the irritating human desire to interpret data inaccurately. In other words, to guess and presume.

"Spock, why didn't you call me earlier?" his mom – mother – asked.

"I was preoccupied by my new duties as a Starfleet Commander. For my next mission, I shall be assigned as First Officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, under the command of Captain Christopher Pike."

His mother beamed. Spock could see the two Vulcan moons rising on the horizon, as dusk bathed the planet behind Amanda in a fiery, dusty glow. "Spock, is that pride I detect in your voice?" she teased.

Spock raised his eyebrows. "Pride is a human emotion," he simply stated.

"Nevertheless, your mother is human."

"Perhaps I feel satisfaction in my next assignment. However, this would also be an excellent opportunity for me to obtain new experiences."

His mother held up her finger to her lips. Spock silenced himself, having learned as a boy what the human gesture for Be Quiet was.

"Spock, I want you to say out loud, 'I am excited for my next mission'."

Spock opened his mouth to protest, since there was no logic in stating that out loud, with human emotional terms. But his mother peered at him and reached over, out of the screen to grab a glass of what appeared to be milk. She took a sip, placed her glass back out of sight, and crossed her fingers in front of the camera with a slight smile.

"I am excited for my next mission, mother," Spock reluctantly stated.

"I'm proud, Spock. So, how's your live at the Academy?"

"My life has gone predictably well, seeing that I have not accumulated a great number of injuries during my stay here. I have an average of zero monthly visits to the hospi–"

"Spock, you know what I mean. Did you try to make friends with some of the students there?"

Spock hesitated. What to say? "It seems a large section of the cadets at Starfleet are upset over the difficulty of the exams I have given them in Linguistics, Engineering, and Computer Science. However, one of my best students in Linguistics seems to be persistent in establishing 'friendship' between the two of us."

Amanda's grin widened. "A girl?"

Spock wisely avoided the question. No need to bring Uhura up, there was no logic in that. "I have also been tutoring a cadet over the Vulcan ways."

His mother raised her round eyebrows. "Why is he so interested in this logical culture?"

Spock hesitated before answering. "He was an orphan, traveling alone with one of his friends. Fascinatingly, his father was a Vulcan, though his mother a human who perished in an earthquake."

"Spock, is the poor child alright? How did he get into Starfleet in the end?" his mother pleaded. She was always a sympathetic woman.

"The boy, now about sixteen years old, is currently with satisfactory health. I believe he and his female cousin were persuaded by Captain Pike to enlist in Starfleet, after the Captain had broken up a bar fight they had participated in."

Amanda pursed her lips, upset. "Spock, I'm sending over some oatmeal cookies with native Vulcan fruit, and I want you to give them to him on Christmas Day tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother."

"And Spock, do try to approach some of the other humans–" Someone knocked on Spock's door. "Spock, who's visiting you?"

Spock glanced at the door, raising his eyebrows in surprise – if Vulcans could experience surprise. "I was not expecting anybody at this time."

Spock's mother gave a dismissive wave. "Best not to keep them waiting. Peace and long live, Spock."

"Live long and prosper," Spock finished. His computer beeped, and his mother's image disappeared from the screen. Whoever was at the door knocked again.

The commander made his way to the door, and pressed the button. The door slid open, revealing one of his students from Engineering. Short, spikey shoulder-length hair, with a silver bracelet and those startling blue eyes under dark eyebrows.

"Cadet Grace." Spock was surprised. One of his better students in the class, always attentive and sharp. Quick to follow instructions, though Spock felt she would be just as good at delivering them as well.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Good evening, Commander. My friend Nico di Angelo and I have invited you to a Christmas party at our quarters. We would appreciate it if you could show up. If, of course, you don't have any obligations at that time. Nico would have been the one inviting you, but Cadet McCoy insisted he stay in the room. A rash was found on his leg, though McCoy knows it will go away in a couple of hours."

Spock opened his mouth to decline. But then he saw her shining, eyes, startling blue. Eyes that looked like they would understand what an outcast's life was like. Not that he cared. Besides, he was bonded to a Vulcan female named T'Pring. Oh, wait, she dissolved the bond a year ago after finding her T'hy'la, her soulmate, in a young Orion ambassador.

Besides, his mother would have wanted him to attend a celebration such as the one he was currently invited to.

"I accept," he stated. Cadet Grace's smile twitched with what Spock suspected to be enthusiasm.

Nico

Nico would have welcomed any help he could get.

He woke up on Christmas morning, feeling considerably better that he had the day before. Checking his leg, he was happy to see that there were no more ugly, green spots.

And now that he was fine, the next logical course of action was to decorate the room.

Which, of course, revealed the real problem to Nico. He forgot to buy some decorations, mistletoe, and most importantly, chocolate!

Someone burst through the door. Nico didn't see who it was, since the table blocked his view from the bed. But nobody else insisted on pressing on the floor with seven point two pounds of force for every stride.

"Hey Neeks, Merry Christmas!" Kirk was wearing his regular Starfleet uniform, and he was chewing on a pen.

"That can't be too good for your teeth," Nico pointed out.

"Hey," Kirk complained. "My teeth have the strength of dilithium crystals. Besides, I was studying."

"Since when did you study on holidays?" Nico scoffed.

"Be nice to your elders," Jim said, waggling his finger threateningly, though Nico could plainly see he was holding back a smirk. "I'm studying drawing. Making a masterpiece."

Nico rolled his eyes. "Hey, can you buy some tinsel, mistletoe, and some baubles, please? I forgot to get them yesterday. Besides, I have to cook, and I'm counting on Leonard to help me not burn up the food."

"Am I invited?" Kirk asked innocently.

"Sure, just as long as you don't bring too much alcohol with you. You'll just frighten off the guests. If so, I'll just have to incapacitate you with my Vulcan nerve pinch."

Kirk's eyes widened and he laughed. "You wouldn't dare!"

Nico scrambled off the bed and headed for the room's mini-kitchen. "I won't if you get out of here and buy some chocolates and ornaments."

"No need to tell me twice," Kirk agreed, and strode out the door.

"Don't forget a tree!" Nico hollered at him last minute.

When he was out of sight, Nico frowned at a bowl he was going to crack some eggs into. Now that he thought of it, he didn't know what to cook. Maybe he could do pasta? It was an Italian thing, and simple enough. Maybe he could also make some cranberry pudding and trust that the doctor knew how to roast a turkey.

Nico started pouring the pudding mixture into the pot. Back home at camp, he might have just pulled up the skeleton of some pastry expert for assistance. Now he had to stay at the pot and continuously stir the milk. Otherwise, Nico was pretty sure the milk would curdle and burn. Not too appetizing.

Fortunately, McCoy took this moment to burst through the door and take over the spoon.

Later that evening, time is 1900…

Kirk

Nico and Thalia knew how to organize a real party.

Of course, he had a big part in helping with the decorations. Joshua, from room 3872 had a big sale of tinsel, baubles, and some empty phasers that have been painted gold for the occasion. And Professor Jackson was kind enough to supply a small pine tree. Though he insisted not to chop it down, but to keep its roots in a pot.

And Kirk brought back some special chocolates. They were filled with marzipan, or almonds, and some coconut. He had several boxes of them, which he hoped Thalia would enjoy. And Nico and McCoy too, of course.

So in Thalia and Nico's room, they had invited several people. There was Professor Jackson himself, and a Vulcan guy, probably Nico's tutor. They were talking in a corner, Jackson animatedly waving his hand about and holding a glass of Perinea rum and olives. The Vulcan just watched him speak with raised eyebrows; hands clenched and back ridiculously straight.

The food was excellent, credits to McCoy and Nico. Kirk wondered where Nico learned to cook pasta. Probably not while on the run, maybe he learned during his time at the academy?

Then there was the lively music. Hikaru Sulu, one of Thalia's friends had provided an antique radio. Apparently, it made the atmosphere more romantic.

Kirk spotted Uhura chatting with Thalia. "…he's so charming, though it's hard to get him out of his shell sometimes…" "C'mon, Nyota, if anyone can become his friend, you can." Kirk heard them say.

"So, your first name's Nyota?" Kirk asked them, making the two women jump. Nyota glared at him.

"It isn't polite to eavesdrop," she chastised him.

Jim just grinned wider. "Where you just saying I'm charming?" he teased.

The African rolled her eyes. "She wasn't talking about you," Thalia spoke up. "She does have her own crush."

Nyota blushed, and lightly slapped Thalia's face. Cadet Grace feigned innocence.

Kirk may or may not have had too much onion beer. "Thalia, why don't you try to grow your hair out?" he asked. Her short, ear-length punk hair had fascinated him before, but he longed to see it grown out. But that was a question he hadn't dared ask before.

Thalia looked at him, surprised. "I never really thought of it much. I'm just used to short hair, I guess."

Kirk cursed himself for his actions, and nearly embarrassed himself in front of her. He made a quick excuse to escape for the bathroom. Uhura watched him with a knowing, almost pitying look.

Kirk didn't go to the bathroom, but snuck around to reach Bones.

"Now what, Jim? You can't even talk straight to her when you're drunk? You've got it bad, kid." McCoy drawled and took a sip of his Georgian Mint Julep.

"Aw, come on Bones. She just is…" Jim fumbled with his words.

Leonard raised his eyebrows. "Is what? Too pretty, too deadly?"

Kirk just shook his head and didn't say anything. He watched the Vulcan talk to Professor Jackson a bit more. Those two teachers were tasting some of the chocolates Jim bought, and he hoped they enjoyed it.

Jim glanced back at his best friend. McCoy was glancing down at his PADD; someone just sent him a message.

Then Nico came up to them, with a lopsided grin on his face. "Hey, Nico," Kirk greeted.

Nico made a large waving gesture toward Leonard and Kirk, that strange grin still on his face. "Hey, Jim."

Kirk felt a bit happy. "So you finally decided to call me 'Jim'?" he asked gleefully.

The half-Vulcan laughed. "Sure. Hey, did you spike that chocolate with some alcohol? I'm feeling a bit lightheaded."

Kirk felt McCoy glaring at him from the side, and felt a bit defensive. "No, I didn't."

McCoy suddenly gasped and grabbed Jim's shoulders, shaking them hard. "Jim, there's a certain chemical in chocolate that intoxicates Vulcans."

Kirk tried not to panic. "So is it like giving Nico a beer?"

Nico scowled. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here, guys."

Jim tried his best to put on a smile. "Hey, Nico, why don't you walk around and talk to some pretty girls?"

Nico stuck his tongue out. "That'll be illogical for me. I'm gay, and I like talking to the two of you better."

McCoy face palmed at this new revelation. "Kid, why don't you go get Thalia, we have something to discuss." Nico didn't like that idea, but he left.

Leonard shook his head. "Dammit, Jim, we're in trouble. It's like giving the boy a few shots of whiskey. And his Vulcan professor ate them, too…"

Jim paled considerably. "The pointy-eared guy won't sue us, would he?"

Just them, there was a loud crash on the floor. It seemed that Nico's teacher had tripped on the edge of the carpet.

"Bones, maybe you should bring the Vulcans to the hospital wing."

"Absolutely, Jim. Just remember that you started this."

"How was I supposed to know Vulcans got drunk on cocoa?"

Bones shrugged, and called for Thalia. "Help me bring these two to the infirmary, will you Grace?" he asked, pointing toward Nico, who was staggering under the bright lights, and Spock, who lay on the floor and stared at the celling.

"What did you do to them?" she asked, alarmed.

McCoy snorted and pointed at Kirk. "You can ask Tiberius here later."

Jim intended to be locked into the room by the time Thalia came back to the party. Hopefully, the guests would be able to manage themselves for a short while.

Thalia

Vulcans were pretty muscular, but were also surprisingly light. Must be those alien fibres.

Leonard insisted on taking Nico, leaving Thalia to figure out a respectful way to bring Professor Spock to the infirmary. She knew very well she couldn't drag him there.

Eventually, she propped him up. Spock still had some proper consciousness, and would be able to walk if supported. Thalia slung his arm over her neck, and together, they followed the doctor through the brightly-lit hallway.

"Dang Bones, of course you chose the lighter one," she grumbled under her breath.

Spock stirred slightly. "C'mon Spock, we're almost there. What could've happened to you, bringing a logical, stoic Vulcan into this state?"

The half-asleep Vulcan twitched his mouth. "T…hy…la.." he mumbled.

Thalia raised her eyebrows. "No, Professor, my name is Tha-li-a. Thalia," she pronounced slowly.

"T'hy'la", he insisted.

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Since when did Vulcans have trouble pronouncing things?"

Spock didn't reply. He curled his fingers around Thalia's hand. She didn't know what to make of it.

"I hope there's an antidote," she muttered.

And so the story goes on...