Advent Day 23
“I hear something.”
Spock looked up from his PADD. “Like what?”
Jim frowned. He took a long sip of his coffee. He was seated at the dining room table. He was still wearing his pajamas and robe. His hair was adorably rumpled and at present he wore a pair of wire rimmed spectacles that only seemed to enhance the shade of the blue of his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know you hear something?” Spock went back to his messages.
“Hmm. It sounds, I don’t know, like a faint rustle. Or scratching maybe.” Jim nudged his foot against Spock’s. “Whatcha reading?”
“One is a message from my father.”
Jim’s lips twitched. “What does dear old dad have to say?”
“He intends to retire his ambassadorial duties,” Spock said, musingly. “And is considering recommending me to replace him.”
“Oh?”
“Only if I am interested,” Spock clarified.
“And are you?” Jim put his coffee down. “You heard that, didn’t you?”
“What, Jim?”
“Maybe we have a rat!”
“On the fourth floor of a high rise apartment building?”
“Well. Come on, you didn’t hear what I heard?” Jim pushed away from the table and stood, taking his coffee with him to the living room. He stopped before the Christmas tree that had been situated by the picture window of their apartment.
Spock sighed and put his PADD down, following Jim. “Do you think I should say no?”
“If you didn’t hear it, yeah.”
“No, ashayam. To Sarek about the ambassadorship.”
Jim, hands on hips, turned to face him. He had removed the glasses and stuck them in the pocket of his robe. “What do you want to do? Do you want to say yes?”
“It would mean brief periodic separations between us.”
“You aren’t answering the actual question, Spock. Do you?”
“I do not know,” he admitted. “It is worth considering. But I do not wish to be parted from you for excessive lengths of time.”
“I don’t want that either but we’ve survived worse.” Jim turned to face the mantle of their apartment where two stockings had been hung.
Spock watched him carefully as Jim walked toward the stockings.
“It’s coming from here, I know it. I’m telling you somehow a rat got into one of these.”
Spock arched a brow.
Suddenly Jim yelped and jumped back as something squirmed in the stocking with the name Jim stitched on it.
“What the—?”
A moment later a furry black head with slightly rounded ears with tufts of hair coming out of them appeared and mewled.
“Oh my God!” Jim rushed to the stocking and scooped up the fluffball kitten, who immediately began to purr at being held.
Spock smiled. “Do you like her?”
“Do I like her? Are you kidding? She’s the cutest thing ever!”
“Merry Christmas,” Spock said. “I put her in there this morning. I was surprised you did not realize sooner.”
“You devil!” Jim grinned. “She’s so sweet. I love her. And I love you.”
He came to kiss Spock, who kissed him back ignoring the paw that came out to swipe out at his chin.
“You should say yes,” Jim said, softly.
“To?”
“Your dad. We’ll work it out, Spock. Whatever it takes, we’ll always work around everything as long as we are together.”
“Yes, we will,” Spock agreed.
“And I now have this adorable companion. I think I’ll call her Holly.”
“That is purrrfect.”
Jim laughed. “You are.”
Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto) 