Hey everyone! I'm back! So glad to be back with you guys and to be able to give you updates. So, I know this chapter is a little Christmassy... and I know that it's July... but you know - just go sit in front of your AC units, light an old balsam Yankee Candle and use it as an excuse to eat something highly caloric and probably bad for you and enjoy this little piece of Christmas fluff. If you guys have any little requests or something you'd like to see in the story, drop me a line. I'm always looking for new ideas! You all are the greatest. Enjoy!

I've never considered myself a religious person. My roommate at the Academy was raised Christian; She went to church on Sunday, read the Bible, and was a good person. But, I never participated in any faucet of religiosity. I always thought that religion was a little passé. I thought that if God or any type of god truly did exist, he would be benevolent and not allow the magnanimity of suffering that is only too evident in this world and on others now, but more so in the past.

Christmas, however, is a holiday that I've always enjoyed. I never truly delved into the reasons for Christmas. To me, it was always a time simply when gifts were exchanged and family and friends gathered in good spirit.

I remember Caldos would hold the most exquisite Christmas festivals and services. The festivities would start in early November and last all the way up to the 25th of December. In the center of the colony, a massive tree was erected with lights and ornaments. Also, the main square was adorned with small, twinkling lights and the shops would play Christmas music that could he heard all around. The weather control center was always programmed around that time to consistently give us a white Christmas. To say that it was an enchanted time would be an understatement.

At home, Nana always tried her best to make Christmas special. I think deep down she always felt guilty that I lost my parents. I remember, I laugh to myself, that she would always choose the biggest tree, even though it barely fit in her tiny living room. She and I would spend hours decorating it, agonizing over the placement of the ornaments and tinsel. We'd play carols and make hot chocolate. And then on Christmas morning, no matter how old I was, she'd make chocolate chip pancakes and we'd open presents together.

I regret that we lost a lot of our closeness when I grew older and started the Academy. The first few years I came back, but after I got married and started my residency, we lost some of that bond that we once shared.

I talk to Nana every once and awhile, but it's not the same. I know it sounds a little funny, but Nana's changed over the years. She's different now than she used to be. I saw her a year ago and I sensed that something wasn't right. She's become withdrawn, isolated. She spends her time alone in her cabin, journaling and reading. I have to make the time to see her soon. But things in my own life are busy. Still, I feel that's no excuse when it comes to the woman who raised me.

A slight squirming against my chest shakes me from my own thoughts. I look down at the tiny baby nestled against my ribcage. I smile and sigh; we missed Christmas this year.

I feel horrible. We were supposed to have Robert, Marie, and Renee come and spend the holiday with us. I had it all planned out. I wanted to be able to spend time with Marie and get to know her better. She and I have spoken a few times over the comm. And we've exchanged a few messages. She's such a fascinating woman and she has so much wonderful wisdom that she's willing and eager to share. She's a trained horticulturalist and one of her hobbies is plant species hybridization. I don't know a lot on the subject, but as a scientist, the genetics and the reasoning behind her own dalliances in research fascinate me.

I also feel guilty that Jean Luc and Robert haven't been able to spend time with one another. Their past is such a rocky one and they are both such opposites. But, that's been changing and slowly, I think that Jean Luc has come to understand Robert a little more now that he's settled and has his own family. When Jean Luc left for the Academy, he was fleeing his home. He had a choleric relationship with his own father who was unimpressed with Jean Luc's desire to roam among the stars. Robert, I think, began to begrudge Jean Luc. I think he resented his audacity and his spirit. But, Robert settled into a comfortable life and married Marie and had Renee. They seem happy enough. It's hard to tell with Robert sometimes. I smile; if I had thought that Jean Luc was subtle with his emotions, I would have likened Robert to a brick. But, he's quirky in his own way and his excitement for life and his passion is evident when he talks about his family and his wine. His voice fills with wonder when he talks about different vintages that he has bottled and saved in his special underground cellar. He and Marie have been experimenting with hybridizing several grape varieties and dabbling with some subtle soil enhancements. They're anxious for this year's harvest to see how the wine will accent the newness of their crop.

I wanted Renee to be able to spend time with Wesley and Saoirse and now Aaron. Renee idolizes Wesley even though he's never met him. Wesley's been so kind in writing to Renee and making an effort to reach out to him. Renee asks about the stars all the time. I think before Wes' fallout with the Academy, he had been pushing Renee to start studying for the Starfleet Entrance Exam. But, now, he's relayed to me that he's become hesitant to do so. He doesn't want to discourage Renee from following his dream, but he can't in good conscience encourage application to what he now feels is a corrupt institution.

I'm mostly ashamed, though, because it's been almost two years since Jean Luc and I married and we haven't been able to spend time with his only surviving family. It's insanity! They're always busy with the vineyard and we're too busy with work. It's no excuse, though, and family should come first. Since I had the baby prematurely, Marie and Robert cancelled their visit out of concern. But we promised to see them in Labarre in the New Year. Now we just have to make sure that the guarantee that we made to see them wasn't an empty one.

I turn my head and survey the room. What a mess!

I smile when I see Wesley playing with Saoirse at the foot of the tree. She's decorating his head with discarded present-bows and he's doing the same with her. He's got his holo-camera and he's taking photos every moment that he possibly can. Jean Luc is just amused by their antics as he sits on and placidly watches.

It's hard to buy Christmas presents for Wes now that he's older. It's easy to buy them for Saoirse because she's so young. Truthfully, she doesn't fully grasp what a present is yet. But, she's so amused by the process of unwrapping. She's very tactile and active so and we tried to buy her gifts that would appeal to that faucet of her personality. But, in the wake of her opening the gifts, the actual presents lie strewn around her as she finds herself amused with strings and shards of discarded, colourful paper.

For Wesley, Jean Luc said he wanted to give him his own gift. He said he wanted to make it special because this was the first year that we've had Wes with us; last year he was on an away mission for training purposes. He still hasn't told me what the gift is, so I'm just as eager as Wes is to find out.

I got him an original antique warp engine conduit. I wanted him to have it just for its significance. Maybe he'll put it in Jean Luc's office and it'll be something that they can enjoy together. When he opened it, his eyes lit up. "Mom," he said. "I've only seen diagrams of this in books! Thank you!" He and Jean Luc spent the next hour marveling the old design and juxtaposing, in haute terms, what each of the requisite parts did. It was nice to see them so boyishly excited; they were like to young kids marveling over an electric train set.

Is it horrible that I didn't get Jean Luc anything or that he didn't get me anything in return? We've known each other for 25 years and we've been married for nearly two and we're already getting lazy in the gift department. It's not something, though, that bothers either of us. We're content with what we have. We're content with each other and the gifts that life has given us. Nothing material will augment the happiness that we've been bestowed. Our gift is one another and this family and that truly is more than sufficient.

"Papa!" Saoirse looks at her father and crawls over to him. He smiles at her newfound ability to say words. She's beginning to say sentences, but still her favourite words are 'Wessy', 'Mama', 'Papa', and 'Kitteh', which she says with great pride when referring to herself. She picks herself up and ambles over to him as he moves to intercept her.

Jean Luc is the quintessential proud father and he has been since the day that she was born. He's mesmerized by every little thing she does. He praises the smallest successes and overlooks all of her minute failings. Her temper tantrums are excuses for him to show patience and love. Her laughter is an incentive for his own. Their bond is one that I hope always remains. I never want Saoirse to endure the adolescence that I experienced; I felt alone as I ambled through without a strong familial bond. I remember being angry and sullen and though Nana understood, I know that I hurt her. I want this little girl to be shielded – though not overly so. I want her to avoid hurt unnecessarily. I want her to guard her own heart and I want her to hold onto what is good and pure for as long as she can. I grin at the realization of the fact that I know that she'll be well guarded by the three men in her life. Saoirse will always know the meaning of true love.

Even though Christmas is late this year and even though it hasn't gone according to plan, it's still perfect. It's snowing outside and the faint shadows of snowflakes dance on the dim walls. Laughter circulates through the room, weaving a spell around all of us. I look at my family, starting with the small, inquisitive bundle cradled against me. For a moment my ears don't hear anything as I watch their smiles. Slowly, the combined harmonization of their mirth draws me in and I can't help but mimic their joyous chorus.

Yes, it might have been traditionally imperfect this year, but to us perfection isn't defined by a number on calendar or Christmas card. To us, fulfillment is found in each other and the joy that is brought by us being together as a family.