OMS

Deck the Halls

Advent Day 8

“Jim.”

Jim put a nail in his mouth as he hammered the one he held into the rooftop. He did not look down. He was quite aware of the Vulcan standing at the foot of the ladder below. And though he was not looking, Jim absolutely knew he was getting the Vulcan version of the side-eye.

“Jim.”

To the untrained ear, the repeat of his name sounded just like it had before, but Jim heard the slight irritation behind the second time his name was said.

He removed the nail held in his mouth and hammered it in, stringing the line of lights across the latest two nails.

“Be right down,” he called, not looking. He’d been up in space for decades, had faced death and injury numerous times, fought and won against more foes than he could count, and even survived the death and resurrection of that Vulcan, his husband, waiting below, but he hated heights. He’d considered asking Spock to do this part, but Spock had a secret. He hated heights more than Jim did.

Well, and to say either of them hated heights was not exactly true. Jim enjoyed mountain climbing, after all. And Spock had those rocket boot things he’d used to reach Jim on that mountain. But there was something different about the roof of one’s house and Jim couldn’t say what.

“Can you turn them on so I see if they’re all lit up?” he called down.

He heard the definite huff from Spock, but a moment later the lights were lit and Jim leaned back slightly on his haunches to detect if every last light was on. He couldn’t see any that were out so he mentally patted himself on the back and then inched his way to the ladder.

Perhaps some of his trepidation was due to the fact he’d actually fallen from said roof the prior year. Thankfully, just like Humpty Dumpty, they’d been able to put him back together. Not that he appreciated the comparison.

When he landed on the ground below, Jim felt relieved, and offered a smile to his grumpy husband.

“All done with the roof.”

“I thought we had agreed last year that if you continued this ridiculous, illogical competition with Bob Jenkins and Doctor Morely, you would hire someone to get on the roof.”

“You mean someone younger and in better shape than me,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. “I thought about that but the rules are we have to do all the decorating ourselves.”

“Who decided these rules?” Spock asked pointedly.

“The three of us as a committee. It’s just in good fun, Spock. It doesn’t really matter who’s won. There’s no reward.”

“Except the bragging rights to use all year round that you had the best decorated house for the holidays.”

Jim smiled, and rubbed his hands together, moving farther out in the yard to survey his handiwork.

“Right! And I’m absolutely fine with not winning.”

Spock gave him that side-eye Vulcan thing again and Jim ignored him.

Shooting out of a giant menorah on the roof, placed there for Spock, were twinkling yellow lights that looked like candle flames. He’d just purchased that this year. Also on the roof was a life sized Santa and sleigh with reindeer. Actual reindeer or Caribou, not just the Bambi type substituted so often.

He had more reindeer, elves, and snowmen in the yard surrounding the house too. Candy canes. Snowflakes. Gingerbread men.

“Do you think I did enough?” he asked Spock when Spock moved to stand beside him as they surveyed their kingdom.

“You are serious?”

Jim chuckled. “Yes, of course.” He took out an apple from his pocket and took a bite. “I don’t like to lose.”

“You just said—”

“We both know I lied.”

Spock sighed and nodded. “I believe you will succeed in maintaining your winning record.”

“Now that’s what I want to hear. All right, Spock, let’s go inside where it’s warm. I want to contact Jenkins and Morely to tell them they’re going to lose again.”

Spock sighed even more dramatically. “Very well.”

Jim took Spock’s hand in his and led him to the door of their home. “Well, perhaps, I’ll wait to warm you up a bit first.”

“That would be most agreeable.”

December 8, 2021

Light One Candle

Advent Day 7

Spock went looking for Jim in the early evening on the first night of Hanukkah. They were visiting Spock’s parents on Vulcan during the time Hanukkah started and though Sarek did not care at all, Spock’s mother had been raised Jewish and enjoyed participating in many of the traditional celebrations.

That morning she had cheerfully served them all sufganiyot. On the menu tonight was potato latkes.

Jim had given to sitting outside in the evenings, the view of the city being one he was particularly fond of. He would sit outside sipping coffee and mulling over the fate of the Universe. Or so he would jest with Spock.

“Jim, Mother is preparing to light the Shamash candle to begin the first night of Hanukkah,” Spock said as he found his husband sitting next to the wall that surrounded Sarek’s house.

Jim smiled. “Great. I meant to go in before. I got lost in thought. Help me up?”

Spock reached down and pulled Jim up from the chair. He had a feeling Jim was bored with their visit, but he never said so.

“Do I need to change?”

“Certainly not.”

They returned to the house where Mother waited. There was no sign of Sarek, which Jim commented on.

“Sarek doesn’t come for the lighting?”

Mother smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. At present he is in conference and we cannot wait.”

They gathered near the Menorah. Mother lit the candle in the middle, the Shamash candle.

“Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.” Mother spoke the first blessing.

“Amen,” Jim and Spock murmured.

“Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.”

Spock’s mother smiled at them.

“And now, since it is the first night, we say the Shehecheyanu.”

“Blessed are You, O Lord Our God, Ruler of the Universe, Who has kept us alive, sustained us and brought us to this season”, Mother said in standard this time.

“Amen,” they replied.

She used the Shamash candle to light the first candle on the left. She then picked up the Menorah and brought it to sit in a window to the left of the main door.

“There! Thank you, boys, for indulging me.”

“We are hardly boys, Mother.”

She laughed. “To me you are. Let’s have some wine. Well, you and me, Jim. Spock can have some if he wants.”

Spock inclined his head. “A small amount would be fine.”

She poured them all small glasses of red wine and they sat in the room overlooking the Menorah.

“Many Vulcans over the year have asked Sarek why he allows me to continue with these traditions,” she said, taking a sip.

Jim raised his brows. “And? What does he say?”

She smirked. “I do not allow her anything. She is free to make her own choices.”

Jim saluted with his wine glass. “Wise.”

“It reminds me of home, of my family. For years, when they were alive, we could participate in it together, over conferences, videos, that kind of thing. Once when I was quite young and Spock had been recently born, we were even on Earth at the time, and we spent that time with them in person.”

“I did not know that,” Spock replied. “I do not remember.”

“It was a lovely time. And you were a Kanbu.”

Spock sniffed.

“Now,” she said wistfully. “Most are gone and I do it to remember them. I’ll be following them soon enough.”

“Mother—”

“No one lives forever, Spock. Not even me. I am not saying I will pass tomorrow, but each Hanukkah might be my last.” She shook her head. “I don’t pretend to think you’ll carry on the traditions when I do, but it’s nice to be able to share it with you now, while we are both here.”

Jim reached over and squeezed Spock’s hand. He knew Jim was thinking of already having lost Spock once. And Spock did not look forward to the day he would face without Jim. Without them all, likely.

But for now—

“How about a toast?” Jim said, speaking up cheerfully. “To being together, to family, friends, to traditions. Happy Hanukkah.”

Mother smiled. “Happy Hanukkah.”

And they all took their sips. The potato latkes were particularly good that night.

December 7, 2021

Star Trek Day Flash

I didn’t think about writing anything for “Star Trek Day” September 8th until the night before so forgive me for this extremely rough short flash.

Spock hears the approach of Doctor McCoy, but he does not turn around. He suspects the doctor had been sent ahead to tell him the news about Spock’s husband. There is still so little they know to presume that he would not know. The instant he had been torn from the Enterprise Spock knew.

“Spock.”

McCoy’s voice is rough, hoarse, torn asunder with grief. Spock manages not to wince.

Spock’s silence encourages the doctor to continue though that was not Spock’s intention.

“Jim…”

Spock closes his eyes from the sight of the city lights outside their…his…apartment window. He straightens though he does not turn around.

“I know, Leonard.”

“Spock, Jim…”

“I know,” Spock says again.

“How? Who told you?” There are tears in McCoy’s voice. It sounds thick and unsteady.

“No one.”

“Then…”

He wants to sigh, but knows it is inappropriate under the circumstances. “The bond severed upon his–demise.”

Silence greets his words and though Spock still does not turn around it seems like an uneasy, stunned silence. Perhaps he imagines it. He is aware that McCoy does not fully understand the connection he has–had–with Jim.

“I’m sorry.”

So is Spock but he cannot make the words form let alone have them fall from his lips. He manages not to show that he is shaking. Or at least he believes he does.

“What do you need?”

“To be alone.”

McCoy is quiet though Spock knows he has not left. Then there is a hand placed on his shoulder and Spock cannot stop the flinch. Doesn’t try.

“I’ll leave you be then.” A long pause. “For now.”

He hears the apartment door open and close and then the fading of McCoy’s footsteps as he walks away to leave Spock alone.

Spock clenches his fists and curses Jim for dying.

I am soooooo sorry for this.

September 8, 2020

Flash Fic, August 28, 2020

Some OMS TOS

Spock found Jim sitting on the porch of his Riverside farmhouse at nearly eight-thirty at night. The sun was setting, as it was August, and nearly the end of their leave. Time to return to San Francisco and HQ soon enough. He was aware that Jim did not really look forward to it as he once did. They were older now and Jim spoke of retirement more than he used to.

Jim gave him a weary smile.

“Finish the dishes? Sorry, I meant to go in.”

Spock lowered himself into a chair beside his husband.

“It is fine. I did not mind doing it.”

Jim nodded, staring out into the yard. “Would you mind so much if we came here to live after we retire?”

Spock was aware that for Jim, Riverside was home. Outside of the Enterprise, which was no longer theirs to call it that way. For Spock, wherever Jim was, was home. It had taken him a long time to discover this, to admit to it, too long. But now he knew, now he accepted.

“I would offer no objections.”

Jim smiled. “Good. I like the idea of us living here, arguing over whose going to do the dishes that night…”

“I would not argue. I would do them willingly.”

“I know. But you get what I mean.” Jim continued to smile faintly, then he looked from the yard to Spock. “Or we could retire to Vulcan, if you’d rather.”

Spock did not say it, but he knew, there would be plenty of time, likely, for him to live on Vulcan once Jim passed away. Unless some odd tragedy occurred, Spock would outlive Jim by a good many years. It was not outside the realm of possibility, of course. After all, Spock had died once already.

“No, living here will be acceptable,” Spock replied. He put his hand out toward Jim who met Spock’s hand with his own, their fingers touching as they did, as once, long ago, when Spock’s mother still lived, she did with Sarek.

“I love summer,” Jim spoke after a few minutes. “Summer nights especially. Out here, anyway. You can see stars for miles and miles around. This…this I grew up with.”

“And made you wish to live among those very stars.”

Jim nodded. “Yep. Never imagined then that I’d meet someone like you, and you’d change every aspect of my life.”

Spock thought about all those years in the past when last he’d seen Michael and her words to him.

“As you have changed mine.”

August 28, 2020

Flash Fic, July 27, 2020

This one is a revisit of the TOS OMS in Every Hour Has Come to This

Jim slept in these days. More than he used to.

He remembered a time when he was up before the sun, and then with the sun, and often before his husband, Spock. But those days had faded away now. And often he woke long after the sun and his husband rose.

This time he got out of bed mostly because he was hot and sweaty. This promised to be a scorcher of a day. Not that surprising in July.

But it made for uncomfortable sleeping.

He went into the bathroom, peed, and then turned on the shower. He made it warm, because he didn’t particularly care for cool showers, even in summer.

Jim smiled to himself as he soaped up. Just yesterday they’d been in the main town doing their usual shopping and Spock had made rather derisive remarks about the store’s advertisement.

“Christmas in July.”

“It’s a gimmick, Spock.”

“Hmm.”

They’d passed by the display of fake snow, gnomes, and garlands. Later, Jim considered going back for one of the gnomes he’d thought was kind of cute, but he never got back over to the display.

He did pick up some gingerbread cookies, though. Since he’d gotten older, he’d developed a terrible sweet tooth.

After his shower, Jim put on some loose fitting pants, that sweet tooth did not help his waistline, and a T-shirt. No flannel in July, thank you very much.

He made his way down the stairs, using the bannister more than he used to, of course.

Spock was putzing around the kitchen. In a few days, Spock would be leaving for three weeks to attend to the duties that surrounded his ambassadorship. Jim didn’t look forward to it. He could handle the time alone, but yeah, he’d miss Spock. A lot.

As he approached the kitchen he spotted something on the dining room table.

His mouth broke out into a huge grin.

“Spock!”

It was the ridiculously cute gnome he’d considered at the store, sitting on the table next to Jim’s coffee cup.

Spock turned and arched a brow. “A poor substitute for my company for three weeks, but…”

Jim came to him and gave him a big kiss. “Still. I love you. Thank you.”

“You are welcome Jim.”

July 27, 2020

Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah

TOS OMS

Kirk had not really grown up with much religion. His mother had told him about several and encouraged him to investigate them and their beliefs as he saw fit, but he really hadn’t delved too much into it.

He knew a lot from reading, of course. And being a fan of Dickens, he’d read A Christmas Carol a time or two.

By the time he had become a young man in Starfleet he didn’t give much thought to any of it. His mind had been on other things.

Even when they’d been on the planet in system 892, it had taken Uhura to correct his perception that the inhabitants were “sun” worshipers when in fact they had worshipped the “Son of God”.

Even after he and Spock had bonded, retired for the most part, and settled at his family’s old farmhouse in Riverside, Iowa, Kirk didn’t give it much thought.

When he’d been captain of the Enterprise, the ship had festive events surrounding the holiday season. He’d participated in those he thought he should and excused himself from those he thought he could get away with.

To his knowledge, Spock had participated even less than he had, though Kirk knew that Spock had been very private before they’d fallen in love and bonded. Even now, there was so much about his husband he didn’t really know.

So when he came down rather late for breakfast one December morning, he was surprised to see Spock performing a ceremony with candles, and chanting in a language unfamiliar to him.

“Spock?”

“Good morning, Jim.” An eyebrow shot up. “Or rather, Good afternoon.”

Jim smiled sheepishly. He’d been feeling a bit under the weather lately, plus he seemed to need more sleep the older he got. “Morning.” He snagged a cinnamon roll from a basket of them and tore off a hunk.

“What are you doing? Jewish, right?”

“Affirmative. As you are aware, ashal-veh, my mother was Jewish.”

“Sure. But I was unaware she was practicing,” Kirk admitted, feeling embarrassed. He should know this.

“When she was able to, she did. My father of course preferred the Vulcan way and discouraged her from sharing much of it with me. But when I was very young, she would celebrate Hanukah with me. Even give me small gifts.”

Kirk frowned. “Why didn’t I know this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no reason you would know nor a reason for me to tell you,” Spock replied. “I have not observed it myself for many years, but with the recent death of my mother, I find myself thinking of her and of it.”

He moved closer to Spock, surveying the candles. “And you’ve had these all this time?”

“Negative. My father presented me with them after her death when you and I were on Vulcan. He saw no purpose in keeping them.”

Kirk met Spock’s gaze. “He really is never going to be warm and fuzzy is he?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Yeah. I mean things can’t really take the place of the person we lost, I get that, but it’s…nice to have something, you know?”

Spock nodded. “I know. She used to sing songs too. One was ‘Hanukah, Oh Hanukah’.

Kirk searched his memory, trying to remember the song. He shook his head. “Can you sing it?”

For a moment, Spock simply stared at him. But then very softly he sang,

O Hanukah O Hanukah, Come light the menorah

Let’s have a party, we’ll all dance the hora!

Gather round the table, we’ll give you a treat

Driedels to play with & latkes to eat

and while we are playing, the candles are burning low

One for each night, they shed a sweet light, to remind us of days long ago

Kirk hugged Spock. “Thank you for sharing that with me. Your mom with me. I’m very glad I got to know her.”

“Me too.” Spock lit a candle.

Latke Recipe

December 22, 2019

White Christmas

TOS OMS

“I want to go to Riverside for December.”

Spock paused in reading the missive he’d been sent by the Federation. He glanced up from his PADD. “What was that, Jim?’

He had, of course, heard what Jim said, but he was still having trouble processing the idea. Iowa was cold in December and sometimes even had…

“Snow, Spock.”

He stared at his husband.

Who smiled.

Jim sat in his favorite chair, sipping at a glass of brandy in front of a fire in their San Francisco apartment. It was November and to Spock it seemed pleasantly cozy there without having to add something like cold and frost in Iowa.

“I do not understand.”

“Of course you do.”

Of course he did. He knew what Jim said. OF course. But that didn’t mean he agreed with the idea.

“My ambassadorial duties…”

“Can be done from the farmhouse. You aren’t due to go off for any conferences or meetings until after the first of the year, Spock.”

“But—”

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas. Like the ones I grew up with.”

Spock opened his mouth.

“The trees glisten with that white stuff. Like sparkling diamonds.”

“The temperature drops to freezing,” Spock said dryly.

Jim chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, it does. Sweetheart, you don’t ever have to leave the house if you don’t want to. I’ll happily pamper you and allow you to take up the sofa wrapped in luxurious blankets and sipping tea and eating sugar cookies as you please.”

Spock had to admit that did sound rather nice. Perhaps his little Vulcan heart was melting to the idea.

He opened his mouth.

“We leave in the morning.”

“What?”

Jim smiled slyly and sipped his brandy. “I figured you’d agree. It’ll be great, Spock. You’ll love it. And I’ll take care of all the outdoor stuff. Firewood, shoveling snow, whatever.”

Spock inwardly sighed. “Very well, Jim.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

He shook his head and went back to his missive, but he could not concentrate, and instead got up to pack whatever passed for warm clothes in his wardrobe. He packed for Jim too.

December 20, 2019

Try to Remember

More OMS

Though there was much Spock did not recall about his previous life still, he was beginning to remember larger pieces, thanks in part to melds with Jim as well as ‘reminder’ stories from Jim and others, including Spock’s parents.

And though Jim seemed more reluctant to travel these days, he still accompanied Spock on a trip back to his home planet of Vulcan.

Spock had relayed that Jim did not have to accompany him if he preferred not to, but Jim had balked at that, getting that look on his face that was a cross between disappointment, resignation, irritation, and indulgence. Spock didn’t know anyone else who wore that expression, but it seemed to be a favorite of Jim’s.

“No,” Jim had said. “I’m coming.”

Spock was glad, though, because he’d had no particular fondness for making the trip by himself. It was reported that his mother was not well and might not live much longer. Having Jim by his side was desirable under those circumstances, but he would rather Jim was comfortable than not, which was why he did say that Jim could avoid it if desired.

Jim was quiet on the shuttle ride there, and though Spock was not entirely certain, given his patchy memory, he suspected that was not usual for him.

“You are pensive,” he finally said.

Jim glanced at him, a small toothless smile appearing. “Am I? I don’t mean to be.”

Spock hesitated. “If your preference was to stay in San Francisco, I would have made no objection.”

Jim shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just…my parents have already passed on, and now, maybe your mother.”

“Yes.”

Jim shrugged. “Makes me think more about…mortality, I suppose.”

“You fear death?”

The smile grew crooked. “It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”

“Marcus Aurelius.”

“Yes,” Jim said, seeming surprised Spock could remember that.

Spock supposed it was surprising. “I do not think you need to worry about a life not well-lived, Jim.”

“Perhaps not. Anyway, I know that I will die alone.”

“And how do you know this?”

“A feeling.”

Spock wondered where he himself would be that Jim would die alone, but decided not to dwell on this rather morbid declaration at this time. There we other considerations.

“Likewise, I do not think that my mother has any regrets for the life she has led.”

“No,” Jim agreed. “I imagine not. Still, when she does pass, I’m not sure how your dad will handle it.”

“I suppose he will handle it like a Vulcan.”

Jim snorted at that, though Spock did not know why. “How about you, Spock? Will you be all right?”

“One expects one’s parent to die before them.”

Jim sighed. He got that look again. “Yeah I know.”

There was no one else around them on the shuttle and Spock found himself reaching over to take Jim’s hand. Jim glanced at him in surprise, but he willingly took Spock’s hand in his.

“If you are by my side, T’hy’la, I can handle anything.”

Jim swallowed, nodded, and squeezed Spock’s hands. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. Thank you, Spock. And I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not without you.”

“Good. Then we are agreed. And whatever we face on Vulcan, it will be together.”

“Always.”

Jim leaned against him then and fell asleep and though there was much that was still lost to Spock, this-this was not. And he was filled with gratitude.

November 20, 2019

Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Fan Fiction and Personal Ramblings

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Star Trek Day Flash

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