“Why don’t you ask him?” Bones wondered. He had that kind of bug-eyed look he got when he thought Jim had lost his rocker.

Come to think of it, Jim saw that look a lot.

Bones took a large gulp of his brandy laced eggnog.

“You’re supposed to sip it.”

“What?”

“The eggnog. It’s best sipped. It’s not a beer chugging contest.”

There was that look again.

In the background Jim could hear the strains of a Christmas song sung by an ancient Earth crooner from the twentieth century. They were seated in the rec room as members of the crew had a holiday party.  

“You think it’s true?”

“Doubtful from what I’ve heard about the hobgoblin.”

Jim frowned. “What have you heard?”

“Focus, Jim. Where exactly did you hear this anyway?”

“I read it about some old Vulcan well before I was born. She claimed it. T’Pol or something.”

“And what was the exact thing again?”

“Vulcans only mate seven years.”

“Well.” Bones smirked. “Do you think Uhura would have put up with no sex the whole time they were together? Did you ask her?”

“Get real.”

“Then you are back to asking Spock. You two just started seeing each other, what a week? Has he shown that kind of interest?”

“We’ve kissed.”

Bones nodded. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this but did he, er, show any interest down there?”

“Aren’t you a doctor?”

“So?”

“I’m just surprised you’re embarrassed by that,” Jim said.

“Not ordinarily but this is you and Spock.” Bones straightened. “Saved by the entrance of the hobgoblin himself. I suggest you speak directly to him.”

Sure enough Spock had entered the rec room, immediately located Jim, and headed in their direction.

As Spock reached them, Bones stood. “I’m going to mingle.”

“Don’t leave on my account, Doctor.”

“Trust me on this, Spock. You’ll want me to.”

Spock arched a brow at the departing Bones and then turned his attention to Jim.

“You are not with the rest of the party?”

“Don’t feel much like it, I guess. Have a seat, will you? I want to talk to you.”

Spock dutifully took up the chair Bones had recently vacated. “How many of those have you had?”

Jim looked down at his empty eggnog and then set the mug aside. “Too many I think. Listen, I have a weird question.” He paused. “Or I think it’s weird.”

“Go on.”

“Do Vulcans have sex?”

“Yes.”

“No. I mean, yeah, I know they must as there are little Vulcans, but…you know, other than when Pon Farr hits.”

“I have a cousin who has a brother who is only fifteen months younger than himself. They have the same mother.”

Jim thought about that. “So they do?”

“Indeed. We do. Do you ask because we have not yet engaged in coitus?”

Jim was glad he’d finished his eggnog or he would have choked just then. Even then he sputtered.

“Er. Not really. I mean I’m fine to go at whatever pace you want. I just read about some old-time Vulcan once claiming that Vulcans only mated every seven years.”

“Vulcans undergo Pon Farr every seven years. The need to…mate…” Spock looked uncomfortable and blushed. “But we are able to engage in sexual activity whenever we wish as most humanoids can. There may be certain Vulcans who only participate during their time, but that is not common.”

“Why would she say that?”

“Likely she was, as Humans would say, pulling someone’s leg. Or deliberately provided wrong information. I cannot speculate. In my own case, I am also half-Human and therefore have normal Human urges.”

Jim felt a little giddy with relief. Not having sex for seven years hadn’t been a deal breaker or anything, but he couldn’t help feeling glad it wasn’t something he truly had to consider.

“In fact, if you are no longer interested in the holiday party, perhaps we could—”

Jim stared at him. “Are you saying—”

“I am not certain I could make it any plainer.”

“Hot damn.”

Jim stood and then grabbed Spock’s hand to pull him up out of the seat and toward the exit.

“Merry Christmas to me!”

“Captain?” Sulu asked as he entered the rec room. “Are you and the commander leaving so soon?”

“Uh.”

“Ship’s business, Lieutenant,“ Spock said, smoothly.

“Enjoy the party!” Jim called after him.

“Right,” Sulu muttered after they left. “Ship’s business.”