Chapter Two

Soon enough, the Christmas holiday had rolled around, bringing with it the multitude of international holidays that fell within the same time-frame. Jim personally didn't celebrate Christmas, he hadn't since he was ten years old. At the Academy, he and Bones had exchanged small gifts but there had been no marked acknowledgement that it was Christmas. Unwrap their gifts, toast with brandy, and go to bed. But they were going to be away from home this year, and Jim knew there were people who would expect something. So, he started planning a Christmas party to ease the sting of being so far from home on the holiday.

During a stop-over at Alpha Centauri the day before Christmas Eve, Jim looked for a Christmas Tree he could put in the mess-hall. He finally found a big Douglas Fir and had it shipped. It took ten people to get it upright, and they spent the rest of the day decorating the tree. There were the traditional tinsel and ornaments, but strange little keepsakes started popping up. Jim realized that everyone had brought back their favorite ornaments from the last shore-leave at home six months ago. They had all known the Enterprise would be out for Christmas, and so they'd planned ahead. God bless them. They were almost done when Jim realized they didn't have a tree-top ornament. He was contemplating this from a ladder, sitting on the rungs as he stared at the ornaments already decorating the branches. Closest at hand was a small gold-and-blue Star of David. He took the ornament and turned it over to see the back, where an inscription was engraved into the bands.

"To Pavel, On Your First Christmas. Remember Where You Come From." Jim frowned, "Chekov? He's Jewish?" That wouldn't surprise him, really. He swore he'd seen the kid wearing a Star of David on a chain around his neck, but he hadn't been entirely sure of that. Thinking of Chekov, Jim felt a stab of guilt. How many people would be missing their families?

"Captain!" Spock's shout from below startled him and he almost fell off the ladder. He caught himself and exhaled sharply.

"For Christ's sake, Spock, would you mind?" he glared down at his First Officer, "What is it?"

"What are you doing?"

"It's Christmas Tree, Spock." He climbed off the ladder before he killed himself, "Haven't you seen one before?"

"Yes, I have, but…not in a very long time."

"You never celebrated Christmas growing up on Vulcan, did you?"

"Not often. Only when my father was off-world."

"Oh." And that was a fifty-fifty chance. Jim looked at the tree, which did look pretty good, "So, what do you think of our Christmas Tree, Spock?"

"I think my mother would have approved of it, Captain. She loved Christmas."

"You always get real quiet this time of year." Jim turned to Spock, "Nyota said you always got homesick around Christmas, now you just get real quiet. You miss her, don't you?"

"My mother was…a singularly wonderful woman, Jim. She would have loved you." It was close to smiling for Spock, and it occurred to Jim that Spock was hiding something behind his back.

"I wish I could have met her, Spock, I'm sorry she's not here to see the tree. What are you hiding back there?"

"I wished to add something to the tree, as it seems to be acceptable to add your own ornaments."

"That's most of what's up here, I just found Chekov's a minute ago." Of course, Chekov's hung right next to a ceramic Kanji character for Peace, that was Sulu's no doubt. Spock revealed the little box he'd hidden from sight. Jim took it and opened it to reveal the ornaments tucked inside. There were four. One ornament was absolutely stunning, and Jim fell in love with it.

"Oh, wow!" he lifted the ornament out of the box very carefully. It was a hollow orb of transparent blown glass, but inside the orb, carefully and meticulously formed, were fourteen tiny orbs. In the middle was an orange-yellowish orb, connected to the thirteen smaller orbs by slender veins of clear glass of varying color and clarity. He studied the details and looked at Spock, "Is this the Solar System?"

"Yes, Jim. It was a gift to my mother from my father one year we celebrated as a family."

"I'm almost afraid to hang this one." Jim turned to the tree and looked for a safe place to hang the glass miniature. There was a sturdy-looking branch at eye-level, so he found an ornament hook and carefully attached the ornament to the branch, making sure to put it far enough back it wouldn't fall off if someone brushed against the tree.

"Now that's what I call a Christmas Tree!" Bones' hail didn't really startle Jim, "Where did you find this thing?"

"Alpha Centauri, Bones. You're welcome."

"I'll be damned." Bones came up to join them, "Never let it be said Jim Kirk did anything small-scale."

"I'll let you two finish hanging Spock's ornaments, I've got to figure out what the hell I'm putting on top of this damn thing." Jim wanted to let Bones and Spock do this little thing together, they deserved it. He went around the tree to see how things looked all around, wondering why he still felt bitter when he saw them together. After a while, it just became too overwhelming. Jim made sure no one saw him leave as he snuck out of the mess hall alone. So much for the Christmas Spirit. Fuck that. Thankfully, the bridge was quiet and he collapsed in the command chair. Or he would have if he hadn't noticed something on it just in time shy of sitting on the damn thing. Jim picked up a little box wrapped in silver-foil paper and a red bow. Hmm. It looked like the kind of gift Bones used to leave out for him. He turned the tag over: "Merry Christmas to the one who forgot how to smile." What the…who was this from? Was his mood really that obvious? He'd tried, really he had, but apparently not hard enough. He unwrapped the box carefully and opened it. Inside were two things: a set of keys, and a model motorcycle turned into an ornament. He held up the ornament, "Wow, this looks like my old bike back home!" Which, by the way, Jim hadn't owned for eight years. He'd given it away the day he left for Starfleet and never once had he regretted it. What were the keys for? Deciding to keep the gift safe, Jim got up and left the bridge.

When he got to his quarters, he stopped dead in his tracks. He noticed a few things right away. First, the lights were down to about fifteen percent, just enough to see by. The rest of the lighting came from the tiny, multicolored lights strung up onto a small, rather scrawny-looking Noble Fir. Christmas carols played softly from the audio-system, "I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas" was the song of the hour as he walked in. Besides the tree and the music, there was no other sign of Christmas in his quarters. He went to investigate the Christmas Tree and took note of the ornaments. Jim recognized several of his ornaments, though he hadn't the faintest where they'd come from or how they'd gotten aboard the Enterprise. He certainly hadn't brought them. They were all ornaments from the first ten Christmases he remembered, mostly home-made ornaments or collected ornaments his mom would put up. Popsicle-stick snowflakes covered with glue and lots of glitter, the kind that shed like crazy if you touched them, papier-mâché ornaments shaped like who knew what those were supposed to be, and then the old-fashioned ornaments from his mom. On a whim, Jim added the motorcycle ornament. He put the keys in a safe place and lay down on his bed, listening to the carols and wondering who the hell had done this. He wasn't angry, despite his hate of the holiday for obvious reasons, but curious. He knew it wasn't Spock or Bones. Jim sighed and closed his eyes as the door opened.

"You know I hate Christmas, Eni."

"That's why I only did a tree. Don't be mad at me, Jim." She came to the bed. Jim opened his eyes as Nyota joined him on the bed and held out one arm.

"Where did you find my sorry excuse for a collection?"

"I asked your mom if she had any Christmas ornaments she wouldn't mind giving away."

"I'm surprised she kept any."

"You always get angry when you talk about her."

"She was never a real mother, she ran away and left us kids. Until I was ten, we would stay with my uncle. But then she married that loser and things just went downhill. For some reason, she thought it was okay to abandon her sons to her second husband, who beat the shit out of us for no good reason. I hated him, I hated her." Jim frowned, "Not a happy childhood."

"Jim, I want you to enjoy this. We have a chance to make our own Christmas, bad memories adieu." Nyota rolled over so she straddled him and looked him straight in the eye.

"Eni…"

"No, I mean that. I won't force you to enjoy it, but I really want you to try."

"But how can I enjoy something that never made me happy? I haven't celebrated Christmas since I was ten years old!" Jim frowned at the ceiling, "I hate Christmas."

"You're exhausted, Jim, and over-stimulated. My cabin's empty, go and get some sleep." Nyota, god bless her, pulled him off the bed and pushed him out of his quarters. He didn't have the strength to argue with her, and did as she told him. Collapsing on her narrow bed, Jim buried his head in her pillow and cried himself to sleep. Why did he hate Christmas? Why did he hate that everyone else was so happy when he was so depressed? When he woke up the next morning, she was there behind him, just holding him. It was sweet, but it made him feel guilty.

The Enterprise docked at Starbase 2-14 three days later and the crew got ready for shore-leave and their party. Jim was there to give them shore-leave, told them all to enjoy themselves and please stay out of trouble.

"Aren't you coming, Captain?" Sulu asked as the Senior Officers prepared to leave the Enterprise. Jim shook his head.

"Not this time, Sulu. You enjoy yourselves, don't worry about me." Of course they would, he knew they would. When a look was traded, he frowned, "Do I really have to make that an order?"

"No, sir."

"Good. I'll be fine, I promise." He sent them over himself, and did a sweep of the Enterprise. There was something seriously wrong with him, but…who could he talk to? His officers were gone, not that he'd talk to any of them about this problem. Oh, Sareil! Could he talk to the Ambassador? That was an idea, maybe the old man could help him out. He ran to the bridge and brought up Nyota's station. He got the right frequency and sent a hail to New Vulcan.

"This is James Kirk for Ambassador Sareil." He turned to the screen and waited. To his relief, Sareil answered.

"Jim?"

"Hey, old man. How's New Vulcan?"

"Peaceful. Is something wrong? You look ill." Smart man, observant. Jim sighed and sat down in the command chair, knowing Sareil could see him.

"Yeah, something's wrong. I'm alone right now, everybody's on shore-leave at Starbase 2-14."

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"Didn't want to." He looked up, "Spock, did I always hate Christmas? Or is this unique to just me?"

"Hate Christmas? Oh no, Jim. Christmas was your favorite holiday. Why?"

"Well, I hate Christmas. We're nowhere near home, so I did the crew a favor and decided to throw a party tomorrow, but it just made me upset. And since Spock and Bones are a thing now, it's kind of hard."

"But as I recall, you are not alone."

"Nah, but we're not established, really." He leaned his elbows on his knees, "I don't want to hate Christmas, Spock, it's wrong. But…I don't know how to not hate it, I have no fond memories of the holiday from my childhood and we never really celebrated at the Academy."

"I wish I could help you, Jim, but anything I might tell you would only serve to make you more upset and defeat the purpose." Sareil looked sad, "Christmas was a very special holiday for my Jim and I, and I wonder if you wouldn't be happier if things had turned out differently."

"I can't wish for something that wasn't meant to be. You're a great friend, and one hell of a First Officer, but…I don't think you were meant to be more than that." Jim knew it hurt to hear that, it hurt to say it. He wouldn't look at the screen.

"Jim, does Spock know you feel this way?"

"Hell no! I can't even look at him without getting moody! He's happy, Sareil, I can't take that away from him just because I have this misplaced notion of possession. You know as well as I do, Spock made his choice and it wasn't me."

Sareil shook his head sadly, "I cannot force you to join in the festivities, but please do not think you must suffer this alone."

"It sure feels that way sometimes."

Sareil looked off screen for a moment, "Jim, I apologize, but I must go. Will you be alright?"

"I think I'll manage. Thanks for listening, old man. It was good to see you. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jim, be well." Sareil signed off first and Jim was left sitting in the command chair on an empty bridge on an even emptier ship. A saying came to mind that fit the occasion a little too well: "People only spend Christmas alone because they think no one loves them." He wasn't entirely alone, but it sure felt that way.

"Computer, play Program Kirk 2 Alpha." He stared out at the stars wheeling past the Enterprise as the first strains of "What Hurts The Most" by Rascal Flatts filled the bridge.

Sorry it took so long! I'm on an update streak and thought I'd give Dancing Barefoot some TLC. Chapter One has been edited! And kudos and cyber-cookies to anybody who picked up the "Bones" reference!! Review, my loyal readers! I thrive on reviews!