The First Noel, the angels did say…
Jim smiled faintly at the music playing from speakers as he walked along the sidewalk directly outside of the shuttle bay on his way to try to catch a shuttle to Riverside.
Admittedly it was last minute. Only two days until Christmas. He’d left it too late, he knew.
But he hadn’t known until very recently that Bones, his roommate at the Academy, was going to Georgia for Christmas, nor had he known the Vulcan he was sort of seeing, Spock, one of the instructors at the Academy, didn’t do holidays. Like at all.
Spock had explained, rather stiffly, that he didn’t believe in a deity, had never celebrated Christmas since his mother was Jewish, and he didn’t celebrate any Jewish holidays either. He planned on catching up on grading mid-terms and some research he’d wanted to do but hadn’t had time during the break.
Since theirs was a very new relationship (meaning they’d had sex twice), Jim chose not to push it.
He hadn’t really wanted to spend Christmas alone in San Francisco.
Jim had visions of the song “Mr. Lonely” in his head. Yeah, true, he could be overly dramatic sometimes.
Unfortunately, his mom wasn’t going to be on Earth for Christmas. And at first Jim decided he wasn’t going to go to Riverside after all. But then with nothing else to do and no one else willing to spend it with him, Jim had decided to try to get a shuttle to Riverside anyway.
And just as he did, he heard the weather was going to be terrible and the shuttle might not even depart.
So he entered the bay, waiting for a shuttle to depart that was more likely to be canceled than not. And if it was, Jim guessed he’d go back to his dorm and drink spiked eggnog until he passed out.
Well, maybe not.
With delay after delay, Jim found himself dozing off. He jerked awake when his communicator beeped.
Where are you?
And that was Spock.
He typed back, “Shuttle Bay waiting for a shuttle to Riverside.’
I did not realize you were going to see your mother.
Eh, I’m not. She won’t be there. But I had no other plans so I thought…why not?
I see.
There was nothing else for a while, so eventually, Jim typed, “I don’t think I’m going anywhere. Bad snowstorm. I’m just waiting for them to officially cancel.”
If you find yourself seeking an alternative plan, you could come to my apartment.
And honestly he almost typed back he wasn’t in the mood to be Spock’s booty call but he wasn’t actually sure if that was entirely true.
Sure.
Another hour passed before the shuttle to Riverside was officially canceled. He was told he still could get a seat on one going out the next day, so Jim departed and headed off to Spock’s apartment. At least he’d have something to do tonight and then he could try again the next day.
So Jim was pretty surprised when from the street in front of Spock’s apartment he could around the window was a string of old fashioned Christmas lights. The kind with bulbs rather than the tiny ones.
He rushed inside and up the stairs, since the lift was always breaking down, and to the door on the end of the third floor. He knocked.
A moment later the door opened, and Spock stood there. Beyond him, Jim spotted the lights on the window.
“Spock, what—”
Spock stepped out of the way and gestured for Jim to come in.
To his surprise, it didn’t stop at the lights on the window, but Spock also had a small, artificial Christmas tree decorated with lights and red bows.
“I…”
“You said you wished to observe the holidays,” Spock explained quietly.
“Yeah but you said you didn’t celebrate. Or anything,”
“And I never have. However you wished to and I am not opposed to indulging your preferences.”
Jim smiled, suddenly feeling warmth in his chest. “You did this all for me?”
Spock tilted his head. “Who else, Jim?”
Jim stepped into his arms and Spock closed his arms around Jim, holding him close.
“I have mulled wine.”
Jim laughed and pulled away slightly. “Yeah?”
“Indeed. Do you…are you still going to Riverside when you are able?”
“No. I’m staying right here with you.” Jim kissed him. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, Jim. Come let me get you that mulled wine.”
Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto) 