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Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

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July Flashes

Christmas in July Flash Fic July 25, 2025

Here we are at the end of another Christmas in July. Next Friday is August. No particular theme.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re here.”

Jim chuckled for she’d said those words five times since he’d arrived in Riverside.

“Of course I’m here.”

Granted, he couldn’t blame his mother at her wonder for his being in Riverside, Iowa for Christmas. When had they all been together for Christmas? Certainly not since he was a boy and even then, he wasn’t sure it ever really happened despite vague memories.

It was actually just him and his mom at the moment, but later they would go to the shuttlebay to collect Sam, Aurelan, and their son, Peter, and daughter, Megan.

It was four days before Christmas and it was extremely unusual for Jim to have leave at this time. But there’d been an attack on the Enterprise that had damaged the hull enough to require some major repair and so they’d been given the time off.

His bridge crew had pretty much dispersed in all directions.

Bones to Georgia to see his daughter, Sulu to Yorktown to see his husband and daughter, Chekov to Russia, and Spock and Uhura to New Vulcan. To formally bond or marry. Whatever. Jim tried not to think too hard on that.

So here he was with the Kirk family Christmas. Weird but so far pretty nice.

“You don’t think it will snow, do you?” Mom asked hopefully.

Jim laughed again. “It’s a bit early for a snowstorm. We didn’t get much of those until January.”

She sighed. “I know. But I always wish. More coffee?”

“Please.”

She’d served him homemade waffles for breakfast and they were just finishing up. Behind him in the living room the Christmas tree shone brightly next to the lit fireplace. Maybe a little cliched and corny but it was all right. Jim could use a little bit of that now.

When the ship had been attacked, Jim had been injured badly. Cracked his head on his chair and he’d sustained burns over twenty-five percent of his body. He’d been repaired, obviously, but the memory of those injuries was still there and so he was very happy to have the distraction of Christmas with his family.

With his coffee refilled and not needing to leave to fetch his brother and his family yet, they adjourned to the living room to admire the tree. Jim was waiting for the moment his mom would ask about his love life. She usually got around to it at some point and generally she didn’t ask in front of others.

And here it came.

“So, honey, anyone special in your life?”

“Not really.”

She sighed softly. “Must be pretty lonely on the ship.”

“Sometimes sure. But being the captain, everyone is my subordinate. Makes it kind of hard to go there, you know?”

“I suppose.”

He didn’t need to tell her that even now the one he really wanted was even now bonding with someone else. He didn’t want to think about it himself. There had been times when he’d almost thought his feelings were not just his own but it was so fleeting he convinced himself he had imagined it.

“Anyway, let’s not spoil our time with talk about that.” Jim smiled. “Okay?”

She smiled back. “Okay.”

****

It was two days later, the house full of noise and family, when his mother kept looking anxiously out the window.

“What’s your deal? Still waiting for the snow to start?” Jim teased.

She laughed. “No. But, uh, we do need more firewood. I’d ask your brother but he and Peter are playing a game and—”

“Say no more. I can bring in firewood. I’m not a weakling.”

“I know you aren’t, honey. But you are still recovering from the attack and I worry.”

He kissed her forehead. “Don’t. I’m okay. The burns are gone without scars and almost all the headaches are gone. I’d be cleared for duty if the ship didn’t need repairs.”

She sniffed. “Bureaucrats know nothing.”

Jim chuckled. “Can’t argue there. Be back in a jiffy.”

“Take your time!”

Jim grabbed a coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck as it had become bitterly cold out even without any snow.

“Though the weather outside is frightful, here it’s so delightful, and since we’ve got no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Jim sang as he approached the door to outside.

“You sound like a moose,” Sam called out.

“He does not!” Aurelan exclaimed. “Don’t listen to him, Jim!”

“I usually don’t!” Jim called back as he opened the door and went outside.

He let out a long exhale as he watched his breath mist around him. Then he took several steps forward toward the wood pile before he noticed someone standing there dressed in a heavy coat with a hood.

Startled, Jim stopped, realizing there was something familiar about the way the figure stood. He glanced behind him, back to the house, and noticed his whole family, kids included, had their face plastered to the window staring out at him.

“What the hell?”

Pursing his lips, Jim moved forward toward the person and the wood pile. Now quite convinced he knew their identity. His heat pounded so hard in his chest he thought maybe he was having a heart attack.

“Sp-pock?” he asked, his voice faltering. Hope was not something he gave into.

The figure lowered the hood and he came face to face with Spock.

“Captain. Jim.”

“What?” Jim paused, gathered his thoughts. “What are you doing here? Is Uhura here too?”

Spock moved forward, closer to him. “Negative. I…we are not…we are no longer together.”

Jim blinked. “You aren’t?”

Spock shook his head. “We could not continue our romantic pairing when it is you that I love.”

“You…I’m sorry?”

Spock looked vaguely devastated as he took the last step to stand directly in front of Jim.

“If you cannot return my regard—”

Jim threw his arms around Spock and kissed him silent. He could swear he heard cheering from the farmhouse.

“Do they?”

Spock nodded. “They were aware I was arriving today. Your mother made arrangements.”

Jim laughed. “I see.”

“Jim, does this mean that you do return my regard? Your mother anticipated so, but I would not force you to feel something you do not feel.”

“Yeah, you know what? Know when to keep quiet.”

“Jim—”

But he shut Spock up with another kiss. This one so thorough if Spock didn’t get it, he was just being stupid.

Jim then kissed Spock’s nose. “Your nose is frozen.”

“It is unbearably cold out here,” Spock replied, clutching Jim to him.

“Okay. But if we go inside there’s no avoiding them.” Jim gestured with his thumb toward the farmhouse.

“Is that not the point of these holidays? To spend time with family?”

Jim laughed. “Is that the point? I wondered. I’m kidding. Yeah. It is. You may as well be tortured and meet them.”

“Why would they torture me?”

Jim shook his head. “Never mind. Just a few more kisses out here first.”

“Very well. That will be tolerable.”

Jim grabbed the hood of Spock’s coat and raised it up over his head. “Cover those ears, Pointy.”

Christmas in July Flash Fic July 04, 2025

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.”  

Christmas in July #13

This one might be a little simple but given that we’re almost at the end I have written 12 others I decided I’m good with that.

Photo by Lum3n on Pexels.com

Jim had been sitting by Spock’s biobed for hours, actually possibly almost a day. It was a slow time, now that Spock had been rescued from a disastrous mission, and the Enterprise docked at the nearest Space Station for repairs.

Spock’s eyes finally flew opened and Jim leaned forward.

“Spock, how are you feeling?”

“Captain?”

Jim smiled faintly. “Yeah. Bones says you’re going to be fine but I want to know how you feel.”

Spock blinked but did not respond at first which concerned Jim. He rose from his seat and approached.

“Spock?”

“I am well, Captain. I was merely taking a moment to process the situation. I do not remember how I got here.” Spock frowned slightly. “This does not look like the Enterprise.”

“We were on Dravos 2 and the inhabitants attacked. Your actions prevented them from killing Sulu but you got injured in the process. Sulu is fine. The Enterprise was damaged in a battle with the Klingons as we were escaping. They were behind what went on down there. We’re at a Space Station for a week to do repairs and you’re in the hospital here. Most of the crew is at the holiday celebration.”

Because before all that happened, the Enterprise rec room was hosting a big holiday party combining Christmas and Hanukkah and anything else anyone wanted to observe.  They switched it all to a hotel ballroom instead.

“You did not have to stay here with me, Captain. I know you intended to attend the party.”

Jim brushed that off. “Your well-being is more important than that.”

“You yourself said McCoy said I would be all right. It makes no sense to watch me sleep and miss out.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“That is not my intention. But neither do I wish to be responsible for you missing out on an activity you had been looking forward to.”

“I don’t care about it.”

“Captain, there is no need to be here.”

Jim sighed, squelching down his disappointment. “Okay. I get it. You don’t want me around. I thought, well, maybe, yeah, never mind. I’ll just go.”

“Wait,” Spock called. “What were you going to say?”

Jim turned back. “With you no longer with Uhura, I was hoping you’d get that I wanted to spend time with you and that maybe you might reciprocate. But if you’re tired and just want to get rid of me, I’ll go to the party.”

“I do not want to be rid of you and I do reciprocate…Jim.”

Jim moved closer. “Yeah?”

“I genuinely did not wish for you to be disappointed to miss the holiday festivities.”

“That’s cool and I get it. But…I would rather be here with you.”

“Are you sure?”

Jim held up a twig of mistletoe and leaned in to kiss Spock. “I’m sure.”

Christmas in July #12

This is a sequel of sorts to 2016’s I Heard the Bells (that can be found in my holiday collection on AO3)

Spock woke early, ready to prepare for the day ahead of him. He generally rose long before his husband and mate, Jim.

But it was not an ordinary day.

Over the years of being with Jim, Spock had learned to embrace the illogical celebrations of Terran holidays. His own mother had been raised Jewish. He was not unfamiliar with such traditions.

Jim was expecting a big day. He had invited everyone he knew. Even Jim’s mother and Spock’s father were coming. That had surprised Spock. Sarek had stated it was all illogical but he would be there anyway.

Both of their remaining parents were aged and fading before their eyes. This might be their last holiday season to see them, Jim kept saying, and Spock could not disagree.

He left Jim sleeping and went down to begin the preparations. He stopped in the living room to turn on the lights on the trees, two of them, and light the fire.    

It was still a few hours until everyone arrived, but Spock started Jim’s coffee, and started getting ready to cook the food.

He’d been up for an hour when Jim came down, showered, and dressed and still looking gorgeous.

“Been up for a while, honey?” Jim asked, after giving him a kiss.

“A bit. Did I wake you?”

“No. I’m just anxious for the day. And your surprise.”

Jim had been talking about his surprise for a while now and Spock inwardly rolled his eyes. Jim meant well but Spock could not imagine what ‘surprise’ was supposed to be so wonderful.

“I am sure it will be well-received,” Spock said indulgently, though somewhat absently as he stirred a sauce.

He was a little surprised when Jim chuckled, kissed Spock’s nose, and then went outside to mess with the outdoor decorations.

It was several hours into the celebration when Spock commented to Jim.

“My father has not arrived yet.”

Jim smiled. “I think he’s here. I’ll be right back.”

And once more Jim went outside.

It was ten minutes later before he came back inside, bringing with him Sarek.

“Father, there—”

And then Spock saw her. Behind his father was his daughter, whom he had not seen in many years.

“Jim,” he whispered, knowing well that was who was responsible.

“Mm.” Jim kissed Spock’s cheek. “Happy Holidays. Surprised?”

“Yes.” Spock stepped forward to greet his father and daughter, unable to form words of gratitude for his mate.  

Christmas in July #11

Appropriately this is taking place on Christmas Eve, 5 months exactly from today!

Photo by Barry Plott on Pexels.com

Now that Jim sat alone in the café on Starbase 13 he felt foolish.

He wasn’t used to being stood up. But this hadn’t been a “usual” meeting. This had been important. Too important and it hurt.

He gazed down at the sparkly green wrapped present on the table in front of him and felt more foolish still.

It was Christmas Eve and he had impulsively prepared the gift, a holo photo of them together, happy once, long ago, presented in a gold-rimmed frame and placed in a velvet lined box, then wrapped in Christmas green with a red bow.

It likely wouldn’t have been appreciated, but now he felt extra idiotic for even making the effort and he eyed the nearby trash.

“Want another drink, sir?” An Andorian woman, his waitress, asked, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Another George Washington Eggnog?”

He’d arrived early, too eager to wait any longer.

He eyed the remnants of his extra boozy eggnog, a recipe attributed to George Washington, but without much evidence he had ever been the creator of it.

“Mm. And some of those fried mushrooms with extra ranch dressing.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

Just before he sat across from Jim, he’d felt the concern flash through his mind. He hadn’t had time to reassure Spock.

“Hey,” he whispered, not trusting his voice to speak any louder without him crumbling.

Spock, dressed in a burgundy sweater that looked amazing on him, reached over and took Jim’s hand. He almost joked about how pathetic he must look if Spock was willing to show affection in public, but the lame joke never materialized.

“He is late.”

Jim shook his head. “He’s not coming. I should have known better.”

“I do not understand. It was your brother who contacted you.”

“Sam has never made any sense my entire life.” He gestured to the present. “I guess I’ll trash that.”

“You should keep it yourself as a memory of what you once were to each other. Right now you are thinking with your wounded heart but in a few hours you might change your mind.”

Jim nodded. “Maybe. I feel stupid.”

“Wanting a relationship with your family is not stupid, ashaya.”

“Sam’s never wanted to be my brother.”

“Jim.”

“It’s true, and I just need to accept it.”

The Andorian arrived with his eggnog and mushrooms. “Something, sir?”

“Cranberry tea, please. With an Orange scone.”

She nodded and hurried away.

Jim smiled faintly. “That sounds downright festive for you, babe.”

“It is Christmas Eve.” Spock shrugged. “While I did not celebrate holidays growing up, I am happy to observe them with you.”

“And Uhura before me.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“Ah well, at least I have the best husband in the universe to be with me.”

“I am fortunate to have the same.”

Jim laughed. He picked up a mushroom and ate it. “These are really good.”

Spock’s lips curved. “I will take your word for it.”

A moment later he had his tea and scone and they ate and drank in companionable silence until Jim received a message.

“I’m sorry, Jim, I’m not going to make it,” Jim read, rolling his eyes. “No kidding.” He set his communicator down.

“Will you respond?”

“I think I may just block him.”

Spock shook his head. “You will not.”

He sighed. “I know. Anyway, we have that holiday party tonight with the crew. What do you want to do before then?”

Spock arched a brow. “I can think of a thing or two that will keep us occupied.”

Jim laughed, leaned over and kissed Spock.    

Christmas in July #10

Everyone needs a little Vanik, he is featured here.

“Can you have butter?”

Spock glanced up from grading tests for summer make up classes to see Jim standing next to his desk with his nephew, Vanik, standing just behind Jim.

The question seemed out of place but Spock got why it was asked. He followed a vegetarian diet as most Vulcans did, Sybok being one who did not.

“Yes, I can consume food that includes butter as I am not vegan.” Spock arched a brow. “Why?”

“We’re making Christmas cookies.”

Jim said it as though it was completely logical.

Spock nodded. “Yes, of course you are. It is one hundred degrees outside.”

“AC, babe.”

“I wanted to make sugar cookies,” Vanik interjected, “but Jim thinks they are boring and wants to make shortbread cookies into shapes instead.”

Jim smiled. “We’re going to do Santas, reindeers, trees, and nutcrackers.”

“And candy canes,” Vanik reminded him.

“Yes. Whatever cookie cutters I can find.”

Spock sighed and leaned back. “I thought I had convinced you not to do a Christmas in July party this year.”

Jim patted Spock’s arm. “We’re not. Totally not the same thing. We’re just making cookies.”

Vanik agreed. “And perhaps making a few savory dishes to enjoy. But not for a party but for dinner.”

“Right,” Jim said, his smile widening. “It’s just you, me, Vanik, and Bones. Hardly a party.”

Spock frowned. “The doctor is coming over?”

“Of course. We can’t have a Not a Christmas in July Party without Bones.”

“I believe Doctor McCoy might be bringing a plus one,” Vanik said after clearing his throat.

“Oh, right.” Jim laughed. “Just a small gathering.”

“But it is not a party?” Spock asked.

“No, of course not.” Jim leaned down and kissed Spock’s forehead. “Vanik, help me with the decorations.

Spock sighed and gritted his teeth, returning to grade the tests.   

Christmas in July #9

“I do not understand why you are crying.”

Jim sniffed and wiped his eyes, smiling through his tears at his Vulcan boyfriend as they sat on the couch in the sitting room of Jim’s quarters on the Enterprise.

“Because Clarence got his wings,” Jim attempted to explain. “And George realized how important he was to the lives of those he loved and that it was okay to ask them for help.”

Spock shook his head, looking bemused. “You also cried during The Muppet Christmas Carol.”

“Well,” Jim said defensively. “It was sad when Belle dumped him. And even Rizzo cried.”

“A fake rat.”

Jim sniffed. “Tiny Tim didn’t die and Scrooge was saved.”

“And in the other one—”

“His heart grew twelve sizes.”  

His boyfriend shook his head. “If they make you cry, why do you watch them?”

“Because I love them.” Jim smiled. “I haven’t seen them in years. I used to watch them every year but not for a while. A lot of people think I’m weird for loving them so much.”  

“I am not sure weird is the term I would use, but I am not sure I quite understand it myself. You have, by your own admission, seen them dozens of times, yet you continue to watch them again and again.”

“Yep. I’m sure it’s quite illogical to Vulcans.”

“Hmm. My mother was Jewish, but we didn’t observe any holiday on Vulcan and I do not believe she did while on Earth before my father.”

Jim nodded. “My mother’s father was Jewish. But we really didn’t follow any specific religion when I was growing up. We treated everything kind of secular.” He leaned over and kissed Spock on the cheek. “Thanks for indulging me. Not only did you let me watch Christmas movies but in July. Or what would be July on Earth, anyway.”

“As illogical as you are, you are still my illogical Jim and therefore, of course, I indulge you.” Spock’s lips curved upward.

Jim glanced toward the little decorated Christmas tree in his quarters. “Even that?”

Spock nodded.

Jim laughed. “Come on. It’s time for bed.”

Spock sighed. “Do you still intend to wear the Santa hat?”

“You bet. Ho ho ho.”  

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

Christmas in July #8

Spock was coming around the corner when he heard his father’s voice. He was aware his father intended to speak to their temporary guest, Jim Kirk, a Human boy of fifteen, who had recently been rescued by the Federation from Tarsus IV.

Spock had met Jim and quite liked him. He was attractive and kind, though sad. Spock couldn’t blame him considering the circumstances. While Spock was aware eavesdropping was not admirable, he found he could not turn around and walk away.

“On Vulcan, the Terran holiday season, including Christmas, is not observed. I realize it is December and you are generally used to holidays, Vulcans are not. Since you are currently on Vulcan until you can be safely transferred to your mother’s care, you must accept how matters are done here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If all goes as planned, you will be able to observe your celebration at this time next year in your Terran home.”

“I understand, Ambassador.”

“Good. Now, my wife is Human, and is experienced in cooking meals that will likely appeal to your palette and the replicators have also been programmed to offer meals you would likely appreciate. Given your lack of proper nutrition recently, I suggest you begin to make use of the replicators to eat until dinner later provided by my wife.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If there is anything else you require, you know how to reach me. I have a meeting to attend to, so I will see you at dinner.”

And then Spock’s father left, leaving the far too thin teen standing there staring after him.

Jim’s sandy colored hair was an unruly mess and there were dark smudges under his blue eyes, but he had been provided with trousers and a sweater to wear. They were too big, but it was more than he had arrived with. Due to his immediate rescue, he had come with nothing.

“Jim,” Spock called softly as he approached.

Jim turned and gave him a sunny smile. “Hey, Spock.”

Spock looked in the direction Sarek had gone. “I apologize for my father’s gruffness.”

“No, it’s all right. I’m the one who brought up Christmas. I should have known better.” Jim lowered his gaze shyly. “I mean, I knew there wouldn’t be like presents or whatever, I just wanted a bit of something normal and fun after everything.” His gaze rose. “I get it though. Of course you guys don’t do Christmas.”

“My mother was raised Jewish on Earth,” Spock told him. “But we do not observe any Jewish holidays either.”

Jim smiled and nodded. “Makes sense. Well, I think I’m going to go to my room for a bit, if you don’t mind. Probably take a nap. I’m pretty tired.”

“Yes, of course. I will see you soon.” And Spock was already formulating a plan.

Jim had just awakened from his nap when there was a noise at his door. Not a tap, more like a kick.

He rose from the bed and opened the door. Spock stood there holding about a two-foot pine tree decorated with lights and silver and gold balls.

“Spock, what—”

“May I come in?”

Jim stood back and let Spock inside. The Vulcan, aged eighteen he’d been told, stepped inside, not only carrying the tree but also a wrapped package and a filled red and green stocking.

Spock placed the tree on the desk in Jim’s room, and then set the package and stocking down.

“Mother assisted me with the present and stocking. I was able to replicate a small pine tree and decorations,” Spock said. “Since this is your room for the foreseeable future, I thought you should be able to have Christmas here if you wished.”

Jim’s eyes filled with tears, and overcome, he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

Spock frowned. “I do not understand. I thought this would make you happy.”

“It does. It’s just…it’s been a really long time since anyone has been…since anyone has been this nice to me.”

Spock knelt on the floor in front of him. “The package is more clothes for you. But in the stocking there are things like cookies and candy and oranges. Mother helped me research what would normally be included.”

Jim laughed and wiped at his eyes. “That’s pretty cute.”

Spock shook his head. “No one has ever called me cute.”

“I doubt that,” Jim said, shyly.

Spock did not argue. “And we have added some additions to the replicator including a drink called eggnog and gingerbread.”

“Wow. That’s-that’s more than I could have ever wanted. Won’t your dad be mad?”

“He is not. We advised him of our plan and he said because it would all be in your room, he saw no reason not to indulge your Humanness.”

“That’s awesome! Thank you so much.” He quickly hugged Spock, but did not linger, knowing it would make the Vulcan uncomfortable. He then went to his stocking, tree, and present.

It would be a merry Christmas after all.

Flash Fic, July 31, 2023

And so we come to another conclusion of Christmas in July. It definitely had its up and downs (and a promise of a full-blown fic related to amnesiac Jim who Spock finds friendless and alone in the hospital) but all things must pass. Here you go.

Jim wiped his mouth as he threw up for the fourth time. He looked pale and miserable.

“Daddy’s sick,” Amanda whispered to Spock. In each hand she clutched her stuffed reindeers she’d received earlier in the year, Martin and Cornelius.

“Yes,” Spock replied. He had his suspicions.

Spock had just hung the family stockings over the hearth. Christmas Eve was tomorrow and naturally, according to Amanda, their stockings needed to be ready for Santa when he came.

Jim came fully out of the bathroom where Spock and Amanda hovered anxiously. He smiled weakly.

“I sure hope that’s it.”

“Why don’t you sit on the couch, Jim, while Amanda and I continue getting the house ready for Santa tomorrow.”

Jim nodded. “Good idea.” He walked stiffly into the living room and lowered himself down to the couch. “That is better. Sorry about that. I don’t know what’s wrong. Must have been something I ate.”

Amanda went over to sit next to him. “Not the cookies I helped Father make.”

“No, of course not those. They were delicious.”

“Amanda, will you put your reindeers in their pen for now as we will be doing more baking soon,” Spock told her. “Wash your hands too.”

“Okay!” She scrambled up and ran toward her room.

Spock took the seat directly next to Jim and reached for his hand.

“I’m fine, Spock. Like I said, probably just—”

“Jim, I suspect you might be expecting another child,” Spock said quickly.

Jim closed his mouth. “What? No.”

Spock arched a brow.

“No,” Jim insisted.”

“It is quite possible. Still. As you are aware.”

“I know but…” Jim huffed.

“I suggest it is time to book an appointment with the doctor.”

Jim made a face. “It’s Christmas.”

Spock’s lips curved. “I mean after of course. Would having a brother or sister for Amanda be so bad?”

“You’re not the guy who’s pregnant,” Jim said, as he had the first time. “If I am.”

“If. You may sit there and rest while we bake the Christmas cake.”

Jim leaned back and closed his eyes. “I might take a nap.” “Probably for the best.” He leaned over, kissed Jim’s cheek, and rose to get the kitchen ready for his daughter.  

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