Christmas in July. I for one could use some Christmas cheer in today’s world.

Jim was bored. This was supposed to be his magical snowy getaway for Christmas, but he’d gone and broken his damn leg and now wore a cast all the way up past his knee.

Of course they’d tried to talk him into leaving, going home, getting his broken leg fixed proper and all, but that would have ruined everything more than it already had.

So he sat in his wheelchair, staring out the window at the snow, a Christmas tree beside him with hundreds of tiny colored fairy lights.

His mother and Spock had gone out to the store to buy some food and Jim had to stay behind. He was glum and feeling sorry for himself. And even though his mom had left Christmas music on for him, he was lonely and sad and mad at himself for breaking his leg.

So much for being isolated in the mountains with only his two favorite people in the world there. Because on his very first day he’d gone and screwed up and the only place available put a cast on him. Which again, they could have left and Starfleet medical would have repaired his leg over a few days of a hospital stay.

That’s what his mother and Spock wanted to happen. But Jim hadn’t wanted to spend the holiday cooped up in a hospital.  Bad enough he’d have to cut his leave short to eventually go to that hospital. He sure as hell wasn’t going to start that way.

It didn’t matter that Spock didn’t even celebrate holidays or that he’d not had a cozy family holiday with his mom in decades. This had been what he wanted, damn it!

When Judy Garland came on singing the melancholy version of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ from the movie, Meet Me in St. Louis, Jim found himself singing along.

Shortly after it ended and before he could wipe the tears from his face, the front door of the cabin burst open and Spock walked in carrying many grocery bags filled with stuff.

“Jim? Are you crying?”

He wiped at his face. “No!”

Mom came in behind Spock. “You are too. We weren’t gone that long!”

Jim managed to squeak out a short laugh. “I was singing along to a sad Christmas song. That’s all. While feeling sorry for myself.”

Spock brought the load of bags to the kitchen.

“Well we got everything you wanted and more. We’ll have lots of fun stuff. Cocoa, Eggnog, cookies, cakes, roasted chicken, it’ll be just as much fun as you wanted it to be.”

Spock came to sit beside him. “Perhaps not quite as fun, but we will do our best.”

And just like that Jim felt like Scrooge himself. They were trying so hard and he was sitting (well he had to sit) mopping like it was the end of the world. He didn’t like sledding and skiing anyway and it wasn’t like he was going to have hot, heavy sex with Spock while his mom was in the same cabin.

Spock arched his brow.

Jim chuckled. Damn mind reader.

“You’re right! I’m sorry I’m being a pain the ass. Let’s put on movies and eat and drink until we puke.”

His mom smiled. “Sounds great. What movie shall we watch first?”

“Rear Window.”

“That’s not a Christmas movie!”

“No.” Jim grinned. “But Jimmy Stewart has a broken leg and sees a guy murder his wife from the apartment across the way.”

His mom shook her head. “Nope. There will be no murder shows. If you want to see Jimmy Stewart, it’ll be It’s a Wonderful life.”

She got up and headed for the kitchen.

Jim reached for Spock’s hand and held it. “It really is.”