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“This is just great. Stuck in our quarters for a week while I miss all the holiday festivities.”

Spock leaned over on their bed to tuck blankets around his husband.

“It is indeed, unfortunate.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Jim grumbled, glaring at him. “Why are you in here anyway? Don’t you have a ship to command?”

“At present, Captain, Commander Scott is on the bridge. And I am here because my husband in ill in bed.”

“Mm. But you aren’t sick. You could be out enjoying the rum punch.” Jim sighed. “Well, not that, but you know what I mean. Mistletoe and holly. Forget the mistletoe too.”

“How could I possibly enjoy the festivities without you by my side?”

“Well.” Jim sort of shrugged, but he looked pleased with Spock’s statement, nonetheless. “Stupid creature with a stinger.”

Because yes, Jim’s current “illness” was caused by an attack by an alien creature on the last planet they visited. He had been poisoned and while Doctor McCoy had developed an antidote, Jim was still weak, nauseous and sometimes feverish. And quite grumpy. Especially after Leonard had advised he was to stay in bed and off duty for a week.’

“No, seriously, Spock. You should go to the parties and leave me to suffer here alone.”

Spock almost rolled his eyes. He only just stopped himself.

“I will not, so you are illogically wasting your breath. It is time for you to have the tea that the doctor prescribed for you.”

Jim made a face. “It tastes like licorice.”

“It is supposed to help with the nausea.”

“Pish. It makes me want to barf.”

“Jim—”

“Fine.”

Spock rose from the bed and went to get Jim’s tea. When he returned he handed the steaming cup to Jim, who immediately sniffed and frowned.

“This smells different.”

“Taste it.”

Jim took a tentative sip. “It tastes like vanilla and caramel.”

Spock nodded, pleased. “I was able to have the replicator reprogram the taste from licorice to something more to your liking.”

Jim’s eyes widened and he took another sip. “Wow. This is good. Really good. It reminds me of a drink my mom made us for Christmas when we were kids.”

“Yes. She described it for me when I contacted her.”

Jim’s eyes unexpectedly watered.

Spock could not help but express his confusion. “I thought you would be pleased.”

Jim sniffed. “I am. It’s just so sweet.” Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“The tea is too sweet?”

“No, no. The gesture. Sorry, babe. This thing is making me really emotional.”

Spock exhaled. “Clearly. When you sleep, I will meditate.”

Jim smiled through his tears. “Thank you. I love the tea.”

“You are welcome, Jim.”