Fic: I've Got My Health, and You
Title: I've Got My Health, and You
Author: kenshincha
Beta: marlee813
Series: STXI AU
Rating: PG
Length: ~3,300
Summary: Christmas is Jim's favorite time of year, but when he loses everything, Spock helps him get that spirit back. Written for ksadvent 2011.
As Jim walked down the street on the crisp, winter morning of December 24th, he couldn't help but feel happy. He loved the snow and the chill. Some people couldn't wait to take out their shorts when the weather was warmer, and Jim liked that too, but he really loved to take out his sweaters and jackets and scarves.
Jim hummed lowly along with Ol' Blue Eyes, his voice drifted out of a department store, about how it was the most wonderful time of the year. Because it was.
He loved everything about Christmas, and he always had a stereotypically joyful one as possible. The weather, the lights, the songs, the candy and cookies, the hot chocolate, the classic old Christmas movies. Even the horrible made-for-TV movie Rom-Coms.
The only thing that was a little unusual about his holidays was he was always alone. Whenever he told people that, they always looked so sad, as if there was no way to have a happy Christmas without family.
On the contrary, Jim always had a great holiday by himself. When he was younger, he always longed for a real family Christmas, but his mother never bothered, as if it wasn't worth it at all without Jim's father who died soon after he was born. But Jim was a determined kid. He never let something like that hold him back, and he learned early on not to rely on others for your happiness; he had to make his own happiness. So he always celebrated alone. When he went off to university, he always stayed there over the winter holidays.
Now that he was living alone in a one-bedroom in the city, while all his friends headed off to spend the holidays with their relatives, Jim stayed there, always declining when anyone offered to bring him. Based on some of the tales of drama his friends returned back with, Jim never regretted it.
Jim could see the sign of Scotty's Diner a block and a half away. It was almost exactly in the middle of his walk between the subway and work. The diner looked pretty much what you would expect. Retro and dirty-looking from age, even though it was clean. The booths were a little lumpier and very faded, but the food and service was always worth it.
A bell jingled as he opened the door to the diner. He grinned when he saw the man behind the counter.
Jim slid into the booth he usually sat. He wouldn't normally take up a booth all by himself, but the diner was pretty empty this close to Christmas. He set his messenger bag next to him and began to riffle through it.
"Good morning, James."
Jim looked up and grinned. "Merry Christmas, Spock."
Spock was a tall, lithe man. Or at least he always looked tall since Jim pretty much only saw Spock when Jim was sitting in a booth; he was sure they were about the same height. He wore his usual waiter garb: black slacks, a button-up shirt and a dark-green short apron. The bright green and red elf hat was definitely a new addition.
"I like your hat," Jim said, the grin on his face growing.
Spock reached up self-consciously to adjust it slightly. Under the hat, his hair was once again perfectly groomed in that weird haircut he always had. Jim used to think it was horrifyingly ugly, but after seeing Spock so often for a couple years, the look was growing on Jim. Now he just thought it was one of Spock's adorable little quirks. "Mr. Scott was in a more festive mood than usual, and he believed I was not 'spirited' enough."
Jim snorted. Scotty was the owner and cook of this diner. He had many moods, which affected how the food would turn out. It was always good, but sometimes it could end up being a little strange. When Scotty was in one of those moods, you didn't want to risk criticizing the cooking. Luckily 'festive' meant it would probably be better than usual.
"What would you like for breakfast?" Spock asked with his pen poised over the pad on the back of a tray. Jim knew for a fact that Spock could easily memorize any and all orders, but Scotty wouldn't be able to remember what he wanted for his own meal, let alone anyone else's.
"Orange juice, Blueberry pancakes and bacon."
Spock quickly wrote down his order before looking up at him again. "It will be about 13 minutes," he said. He didn't exactly smile (Spock never really smiled), but the quirk in Spock's lips was obviously meant to be one.
Jim grinned back as Spock walked away.
Jim went back to his messenger bag and found his grocery list. Most of the items were crossed out, but there were a few things that the store had been out of yesterday.
Cooking was what Jim did all on Christmas. After opening any presents his friends gave him or his family sent, Jim would cook all day. A large brunch, and then baking so many cookies there was no way he could eat them all himself. After that, filling his apartment with the wonder smells of cookies, he would cook a dinner, usually honeyed ham.
As Jim finished transferring the last items to a small post-it, Spock returned with a tray, setting down a large plate with his breakfast. Jim looked up with a smile. "Thanks, Spock."
Spock nodded. He hesitated as he wanted to say something. Jim looked at him expectantly, but Spock seemed to decide against it and turned away.
"Hey, Spock," Jim prompted before Spock could get far. Spock turned back. "Do you like cookies?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not indulge in them often," he said slowly, "however, I do find I enjoy them when I do eat them."
Jim grinned. Hand it to Spock to answer in a long complex sentence where a simple 'yes' or 'no' would do. "And when you do allow yourself to 'indulge,' what kind of cookies do you like best?"
Spock looked rather puzzled. "May I ask why?"
"I'm making cookies on Christmas. I figured if you had a favorite, I could bake it for you."
Spock's hands fidgeted on the tray and a blush began to grow on his cheeks. "You do not need to go to trouble on my account."
"I'm going to baking all day, and I never met a cookie I didn't like so it'll just help me prioritize which ones I should bake."
Spock thought, his head tipping downward as his eyes were directed but unfocused at the table.
Jim's grin softened. This was one thing he liked about Spock. (One of many things of he wanted to be honest.) He always deliberated and thought through everything he did. He didn't have a single flippant or spontaneous bone in his body.
"I... believe they are called... sugar cookies," Spock said.
"Pale and sweet?" Jim asked. He couldn't keep his smile from growing. He couldn't have picked a more perfect cookie for Spock.
Spock tiled his head, as if he wasn't sure why Jim looked more gleeful. "Yes."
"Toppings? Icing? Sprinkles? I'm going to be decorating them regardless," he added. "So it's not going to be any more trouble."
Spock once again seemed to deliberate. "They are not sprinkles... but they are tiny colored pieces of sugar."
"I think I know what you're talking about. Perfect."
The blush was back, stronger.
"I'll get them to you soon after Christmas, okay?"
Spock nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly. Jim thought he was going to say more, but he turned away again.
Jim smiled as he dug into his food. He would make sure to make them as wonder as Spock was.
=//\\=
Spock was disappointed in himself that evening. He had set a goal for himself that morning when he woke up, and he failed to accomplish it.
His goal: ask James on a date for that night.
Spock frowned to himself as he stood behind the counter, replacing the weekly specials for the holiday fare that was to be served tomorrow. He had allowed James to leave without asking him, and he would not be back again.
Spock had been too nervous. He was not used to uncertainty. He knew based on past conversations that James was going to celebrate Christmas alone, as Spock was, so he would not have plans with another. James was both wonderful and daunting. He was kind and friendly, always making sure to talk to Spock, who most people liked to ignore. The idea of asking him out, to see him outside the diner, was overwhelming.
If James were to decline, it would be devastating. Nothing would change, of course, but nothing would change. James would still come into the diner twice a week, and Spock would still pine for him.
"I thought you were goin' t'do it this time," Scotty suddenly said, as if reading Spock's mind. "You looked so determined, and you were even talkin' to 'im fer a while. I was sure you were askin' 'im then."
Spock looked back to his employer of three years. He was surprising calm, leaning on the small window that separated the kitchen and dining room. "I am afraid I lost my nerve."
Scotty gave him an affectionate smile. "Well, you can always ask 'im out fer New Year’s Eve. You'll be guaranteed a kiss at midnight, aye?" He gave a wink.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "You said the same thing about Christmas and mistletoe," he pointed out.
Scotty shrugged. "Maybe you should 'ave 'ung mistletoe above 'is booth." He pointed a thumb behind his shoulder. "It's after the dinner rush. You mind takin' inventory? Yer always faster at it than me."
Spock nodded. "I am also far more accurate." Scotty grinned like it was a compliment.
Spock went back to the stock room, only taking an hour.
When he came back to the front, he heard a strange 'psst' noise. He looked over to Scotty, who looked at him wide-eyed and jerked his head towards the booths to the side.
Spock looked over to see that the diner was completely empty save for a blond man sitting at the booth. He was hunched over, his face in his hands. At first, Spock did not understand why Scotty had looked so anxious when he motioning to him, but soon his eyes widened in shock.
Spock walked slowly around the counter towards the booth.
"James?" Spock asked hesitantly.
James looked up, and Spock felt a strong ache in the pit of his stomach. All of the happiness and eagerness was gone from James' eye. All that was left was blankness. James had not been crying, but he looked very close to it.
"Are you all right?" Spock asked.
James exhaled sharply. "No," he said, still no hint of a smile on his face. Even when James had been having the worst of days, he could always muster some small smile. That he could not was unnerving.
"May I ask...?” Spock trailed off.
James bit his lower lip. He looked down and shook his head, but he answered regardless. "The apartment next to mine caught fire and it spread."
"Was there much damage?" Spock asked alarmed.
"Everything," James said, looking down at the table. "Fucking everything I owned."
Spock looked for words, compassionate words of comfort, but found none. "I do not know how to respond," he said, then internally winced. He had not meant to admit that.
James looked up, the first smile, small and nothing compared to the large smiles but still genuine, twitching onto his lips. Spock's heart jumped at the prospect that he had been the one to cause it. "I wouldn't either," James said. He looked down again.
"What shall you do?"
James shook his head again. "I don't know. I'll probably be... driving out of the city and spending it in a hotel. All of the places in the city are booked up, and there'd be no way I could find an apartment until after New Year’s." James slumped down in his chair, strangely calm for the tragedy that he was experiencing. He must have already contacted all of the hotels in the area, already experienced all of the devastating emotions. It is no wonder he looked so emotionally drained.
Spock knew little of emotions, usually choosing to ignore them, but he could not ignore the ache that he felt at the thought of Kirk being completely alone and unhappy. "If you wish, you could stay with me."
James looked as surprised as Spock felt. "What? Oh no. No, I don't want to get in the way of your holiday."
"You would not be," Spock quickly assured. "I had no plans over the holiday. I told you previously that I would be spending it alone, and that has not changed."
James glanced away. "It's not that I don't want to," he said slowly. "I just don't want to be any trouble." He smiled sadly. "I appreciate it, really I do, but I can't." He looked down at the table, as if signifying that this was the end of the discussion.
Spock's mind raced, trying to formulate any reason he could to convince James to allow him to help. Before he realized what he was saying be blurted out, "What about my cookies?"
James' head whipped up, and he stared at Spock, slack-jawed. "What?"
Spock was mentally berating himself, but while he was down this path, he might as well continue on it. "My cookies. You said you were going to make cookies for me. I was greatly anticipating them."
They both stared at each other. It was a horribly crass thing to say to someone who had just lost their apartment and items, leaving them virtually homeless. Spock could only hope James did not take it to mean he cared more about sweets than the state of his happiness.
It seemed like forever, but slowly a disbelieving smile crept onto James face. Spock prepared himself for the worst, but then James said, "You were really looking forward to them, huh?" His voice was soft and amused, as if he knew that Spock was using it as a feeble excuse to convince James to come home with him.
Spock nodded. "I would... I would be happy to allow you to use my kitchen. I do not often cook at home."
"Yeah, alright," James agreed, his smile growing. "I'd like that. When do you get off work?"
Spock opened his mouth to say he still have two hours left of his shift when he was interrupted.
"Oy, Mr. Spock! Why don't you go 'ome?" Scotty suddenly shouted from the kitchen, trying to sound casual, but by the look on James' face he was not succeeding. "It's goin' t'be a slow night anyway."
"It appears, by a fortunate coincidence, that my shift ends early tonight," Spock said.
James' soft laugh filled Spock with warmth. Spock could only hope that he could do the same for James.
=//\\=
After they left the diner, James insisted on seeing the large light show that was set up in the large city park every year. Spock did not like walking around in this cold weather; however, even if James had been in a more favorable position, Spock would not be able to deny him.
The lights were bright and colorful, mimicking movement with their blinking. Poor quality speakers played music that was full of static and was slightly unpleasant, but James didn't seem to mind. He still sung softly along. Whether it was unconscious or not, Spock did not ask, afraid to break the happy mood James was thankfully in. And when James suddenly grabbed his hand half way through, the speakers could have been screeching cats and he would not have cared.
They needed to stop at three stores to get all of the supplies James needed. Spock attempted to keep James' spirits high; however, when he did become quiet, Spock became quiet as well, hoping that his presence was enough.
James would eventually begin to smile again.
Spock had been too distracted by conversation to be properly nervous when they climbed the stairs to his apartment. It was not until they entered his small studio that it all suddenly came back to him.
James was here. In his apartment. And he was going to sleep there. Spock kept himself from fidgeting as James looked around the sparsely decorated room. Spock did not have much in the way of Christmas items. A small rosemary plant trimmed to look like a pine tree was really the only indication that it was Christmas.
"I like it," James suddenly said as he placed the groceries down on the very small counter in the kitchen. "It's very... you."
Spock took it as a compliment.
The small space was filled with the smell of sugar cookies after James was done. Spock's place had never smelt so wonderful.
James asked if it was okay to turn the television on. Spock rarely used it, almost having forgotten it was there. James found the Muppet Christmas Carol just beginning and they sat on the cushions that surrounded Spock's low table. The cookies were warm and sat on a plate between them. Spock doubted he had eaten so many cookies in his life.
Spock glanced over. James' face was lit up by the large colorful lights on the TV. He had a calm expression, as if the values taught in the Christmas special were seeping into his skin and cleansing him. Spock crinkled his nose slightly at the horrible purple analogy. He normally found himself thinking poetically when he was thinking about James. Apparently he was a closet romantic.
Jim looked over to Spock. "What?" he asked amused.
Spock's cheeks flushed in his embarrassment at being caught. "You merely... seem very content for a man who just lost everything in a matter of hours."
Jim looked back to the show, it at a part of a large dance hosted by a strange bear. "Not /everything/," he said. "Got my health, right? I don't really have a lot saved up, but I had insurance on that apartment. And there's no way I'm losing my job any time soon." Spock was not sure if James could truly count on that in this economy; however, Spock wasn't sure what James did besides the fact that it involved computers. "True, it couldn't have happened at a worst time of the year, but you're here with me right?"
Spock's heart skipped. "I thought you preferred to spend the holiday season alone."
James shrugged a shoulder, his mood becoming sober again. "Usually, yeah. But you being here... Letting me be here, thank you, Spock."
"It is of no trouble. In fact, I had... I had meant to ask you for a date this morning."
James looked surprised. "Really?"
"Yes. However, I was too nervous."
Jim grinned affectionately. "I'm glad you overcame your nerves," he said before leaning forward and gently pressing his lips against Spock's.
Spock froze in surprise, not knowing what to do. Should he kiss back? Should he deepen it? Would that seem to fast? Was James expecting more? What if--?
James leaned back, a small laugh on his lips. "I'm not asking for any more than you're willing to give," he said.
Spock felt himself relax before he leaned forward himself to feel James' lips against his own again, allowing himself to enjoy it this time. Spock was sure he couldn't have asked for any more as he felt James grin against his lips. Spock heard the clock in the kitchen chime for midnight.
"Merry Christmas, Spock," James said, not breaking their contact.
"Merry Christmas, James."
Author: kenshincha
Beta: marlee813
Series: STXI AU
Rating: PG
Length: ~3,300
Summary: Christmas is Jim's favorite time of year, but when he loses everything, Spock helps him get that spirit back. Written for ksadvent 2011.
As Jim walked down the street on the crisp, winter morning of December 24th, he couldn't help but feel happy. He loved the snow and the chill. Some people couldn't wait to take out their shorts when the weather was warmer, and Jim liked that too, but he really loved to take out his sweaters and jackets and scarves.
Jim hummed lowly along with Ol' Blue Eyes, his voice drifted out of a department store, about how it was the most wonderful time of the year. Because it was.
He loved everything about Christmas, and he always had a stereotypically joyful one as possible. The weather, the lights, the songs, the candy and cookies, the hot chocolate, the classic old Christmas movies. Even the horrible made-for-TV movie Rom-Coms.
The only thing that was a little unusual about his holidays was he was always alone. Whenever he told people that, they always looked so sad, as if there was no way to have a happy Christmas without family.
On the contrary, Jim always had a great holiday by himself. When he was younger, he always longed for a real family Christmas, but his mother never bothered, as if it wasn't worth it at all without Jim's father who died soon after he was born. But Jim was a determined kid. He never let something like that hold him back, and he learned early on not to rely on others for your happiness; he had to make his own happiness. So he always celebrated alone. When he went off to university, he always stayed there over the winter holidays.
Now that he was living alone in a one-bedroom in the city, while all his friends headed off to spend the holidays with their relatives, Jim stayed there, always declining when anyone offered to bring him. Based on some of the tales of drama his friends returned back with, Jim never regretted it.
Jim could see the sign of Scotty's Diner a block and a half away. It was almost exactly in the middle of his walk between the subway and work. The diner looked pretty much what you would expect. Retro and dirty-looking from age, even though it was clean. The booths were a little lumpier and very faded, but the food and service was always worth it.
A bell jingled as he opened the door to the diner. He grinned when he saw the man behind the counter.
Jim slid into the booth he usually sat. He wouldn't normally take up a booth all by himself, but the diner was pretty empty this close to Christmas. He set his messenger bag next to him and began to riffle through it.
"Good morning, James."
Jim looked up and grinned. "Merry Christmas, Spock."
Spock was a tall, lithe man. Or at least he always looked tall since Jim pretty much only saw Spock when Jim was sitting in a booth; he was sure they were about the same height. He wore his usual waiter garb: black slacks, a button-up shirt and a dark-green short apron. The bright green and red elf hat was definitely a new addition.
"I like your hat," Jim said, the grin on his face growing.
Spock reached up self-consciously to adjust it slightly. Under the hat, his hair was once again perfectly groomed in that weird haircut he always had. Jim used to think it was horrifyingly ugly, but after seeing Spock so often for a couple years, the look was growing on Jim. Now he just thought it was one of Spock's adorable little quirks. "Mr. Scott was in a more festive mood than usual, and he believed I was not 'spirited' enough."
Jim snorted. Scotty was the owner and cook of this diner. He had many moods, which affected how the food would turn out. It was always good, but sometimes it could end up being a little strange. When Scotty was in one of those moods, you didn't want to risk criticizing the cooking. Luckily 'festive' meant it would probably be better than usual.
"What would you like for breakfast?" Spock asked with his pen poised over the pad on the back of a tray. Jim knew for a fact that Spock could easily memorize any and all orders, but Scotty wouldn't be able to remember what he wanted for his own meal, let alone anyone else's.
"Orange juice, Blueberry pancakes and bacon."
Spock quickly wrote down his order before looking up at him again. "It will be about 13 minutes," he said. He didn't exactly smile (Spock never really smiled), but the quirk in Spock's lips was obviously meant to be one.
Jim grinned back as Spock walked away.
Jim went back to his messenger bag and found his grocery list. Most of the items were crossed out, but there were a few things that the store had been out of yesterday.
Cooking was what Jim did all on Christmas. After opening any presents his friends gave him or his family sent, Jim would cook all day. A large brunch, and then baking so many cookies there was no way he could eat them all himself. After that, filling his apartment with the wonder smells of cookies, he would cook a dinner, usually honeyed ham.
As Jim finished transferring the last items to a small post-it, Spock returned with a tray, setting down a large plate with his breakfast. Jim looked up with a smile. "Thanks, Spock."
Spock nodded. He hesitated as he wanted to say something. Jim looked at him expectantly, but Spock seemed to decide against it and turned away.
"Hey, Spock," Jim prompted before Spock could get far. Spock turned back. "Do you like cookies?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not indulge in them often," he said slowly, "however, I do find I enjoy them when I do eat them."
Jim grinned. Hand it to Spock to answer in a long complex sentence where a simple 'yes' or 'no' would do. "And when you do allow yourself to 'indulge,' what kind of cookies do you like best?"
Spock looked rather puzzled. "May I ask why?"
"I'm making cookies on Christmas. I figured if you had a favorite, I could bake it for you."
Spock's hands fidgeted on the tray and a blush began to grow on his cheeks. "You do not need to go to trouble on my account."
"I'm going to baking all day, and I never met a cookie I didn't like so it'll just help me prioritize which ones I should bake."
Spock thought, his head tipping downward as his eyes were directed but unfocused at the table.
Jim's grin softened. This was one thing he liked about Spock. (One of many things of he wanted to be honest.) He always deliberated and thought through everything he did. He didn't have a single flippant or spontaneous bone in his body.
"I... believe they are called... sugar cookies," Spock said.
"Pale and sweet?" Jim asked. He couldn't keep his smile from growing. He couldn't have picked a more perfect cookie for Spock.
Spock tiled his head, as if he wasn't sure why Jim looked more gleeful. "Yes."
"Toppings? Icing? Sprinkles? I'm going to be decorating them regardless," he added. "So it's not going to be any more trouble."
Spock once again seemed to deliberate. "They are not sprinkles... but they are tiny colored pieces of sugar."
"I think I know what you're talking about. Perfect."
The blush was back, stronger.
"I'll get them to you soon after Christmas, okay?"
Spock nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly. Jim thought he was going to say more, but he turned away again.
Jim smiled as he dug into his food. He would make sure to make them as wonder as Spock was.
=//\\=
Spock was disappointed in himself that evening. He had set a goal for himself that morning when he woke up, and he failed to accomplish it.
His goal: ask James on a date for that night.
Spock frowned to himself as he stood behind the counter, replacing the weekly specials for the holiday fare that was to be served tomorrow. He had allowed James to leave without asking him, and he would not be back again.
Spock had been too nervous. He was not used to uncertainty. He knew based on past conversations that James was going to celebrate Christmas alone, as Spock was, so he would not have plans with another. James was both wonderful and daunting. He was kind and friendly, always making sure to talk to Spock, who most people liked to ignore. The idea of asking him out, to see him outside the diner, was overwhelming.
If James were to decline, it would be devastating. Nothing would change, of course, but nothing would change. James would still come into the diner twice a week, and Spock would still pine for him.
"I thought you were goin' t'do it this time," Scotty suddenly said, as if reading Spock's mind. "You looked so determined, and you were even talkin' to 'im fer a while. I was sure you were askin' 'im then."
Spock looked back to his employer of three years. He was surprising calm, leaning on the small window that separated the kitchen and dining room. "I am afraid I lost my nerve."
Scotty gave him an affectionate smile. "Well, you can always ask 'im out fer New Year’s Eve. You'll be guaranteed a kiss at midnight, aye?" He gave a wink.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "You said the same thing about Christmas and mistletoe," he pointed out.
Scotty shrugged. "Maybe you should 'ave 'ung mistletoe above 'is booth." He pointed a thumb behind his shoulder. "It's after the dinner rush. You mind takin' inventory? Yer always faster at it than me."
Spock nodded. "I am also far more accurate." Scotty grinned like it was a compliment.
Spock went back to the stock room, only taking an hour.
When he came back to the front, he heard a strange 'psst' noise. He looked over to Scotty, who looked at him wide-eyed and jerked his head towards the booths to the side.
Spock looked over to see that the diner was completely empty save for a blond man sitting at the booth. He was hunched over, his face in his hands. At first, Spock did not understand why Scotty had looked so anxious when he motioning to him, but soon his eyes widened in shock.
Spock walked slowly around the counter towards the booth.
"James?" Spock asked hesitantly.
James looked up, and Spock felt a strong ache in the pit of his stomach. All of the happiness and eagerness was gone from James' eye. All that was left was blankness. James had not been crying, but he looked very close to it.
"Are you all right?" Spock asked.
James exhaled sharply. "No," he said, still no hint of a smile on his face. Even when James had been having the worst of days, he could always muster some small smile. That he could not was unnerving.
"May I ask...?” Spock trailed off.
James bit his lower lip. He looked down and shook his head, but he answered regardless. "The apartment next to mine caught fire and it spread."
"Was there much damage?" Spock asked alarmed.
"Everything," James said, looking down at the table. "Fucking everything I owned."
Spock looked for words, compassionate words of comfort, but found none. "I do not know how to respond," he said, then internally winced. He had not meant to admit that.
James looked up, the first smile, small and nothing compared to the large smiles but still genuine, twitching onto his lips. Spock's heart jumped at the prospect that he had been the one to cause it. "I wouldn't either," James said. He looked down again.
"What shall you do?"
James shook his head again. "I don't know. I'll probably be... driving out of the city and spending it in a hotel. All of the places in the city are booked up, and there'd be no way I could find an apartment until after New Year’s." James slumped down in his chair, strangely calm for the tragedy that he was experiencing. He must have already contacted all of the hotels in the area, already experienced all of the devastating emotions. It is no wonder he looked so emotionally drained.
Spock knew little of emotions, usually choosing to ignore them, but he could not ignore the ache that he felt at the thought of Kirk being completely alone and unhappy. "If you wish, you could stay with me."
James looked as surprised as Spock felt. "What? Oh no. No, I don't want to get in the way of your holiday."
"You would not be," Spock quickly assured. "I had no plans over the holiday. I told you previously that I would be spending it alone, and that has not changed."
James glanced away. "It's not that I don't want to," he said slowly. "I just don't want to be any trouble." He smiled sadly. "I appreciate it, really I do, but I can't." He looked down at the table, as if signifying that this was the end of the discussion.
Spock's mind raced, trying to formulate any reason he could to convince James to allow him to help. Before he realized what he was saying be blurted out, "What about my cookies?"
James' head whipped up, and he stared at Spock, slack-jawed. "What?"
Spock was mentally berating himself, but while he was down this path, he might as well continue on it. "My cookies. You said you were going to make cookies for me. I was greatly anticipating them."
They both stared at each other. It was a horribly crass thing to say to someone who had just lost their apartment and items, leaving them virtually homeless. Spock could only hope James did not take it to mean he cared more about sweets than the state of his happiness.
It seemed like forever, but slowly a disbelieving smile crept onto James face. Spock prepared himself for the worst, but then James said, "You were really looking forward to them, huh?" His voice was soft and amused, as if he knew that Spock was using it as a feeble excuse to convince James to come home with him.
Spock nodded. "I would... I would be happy to allow you to use my kitchen. I do not often cook at home."
"Yeah, alright," James agreed, his smile growing. "I'd like that. When do you get off work?"
Spock opened his mouth to say he still have two hours left of his shift when he was interrupted.
"Oy, Mr. Spock! Why don't you go 'ome?" Scotty suddenly shouted from the kitchen, trying to sound casual, but by the look on James' face he was not succeeding. "It's goin' t'be a slow night anyway."
"It appears, by a fortunate coincidence, that my shift ends early tonight," Spock said.
James' soft laugh filled Spock with warmth. Spock could only hope that he could do the same for James.
=//\\=
After they left the diner, James insisted on seeing the large light show that was set up in the large city park every year. Spock did not like walking around in this cold weather; however, even if James had been in a more favorable position, Spock would not be able to deny him.
The lights were bright and colorful, mimicking movement with their blinking. Poor quality speakers played music that was full of static and was slightly unpleasant, but James didn't seem to mind. He still sung softly along. Whether it was unconscious or not, Spock did not ask, afraid to break the happy mood James was thankfully in. And when James suddenly grabbed his hand half way through, the speakers could have been screeching cats and he would not have cared.
They needed to stop at three stores to get all of the supplies James needed. Spock attempted to keep James' spirits high; however, when he did become quiet, Spock became quiet as well, hoping that his presence was enough.
James would eventually begin to smile again.
Spock had been too distracted by conversation to be properly nervous when they climbed the stairs to his apartment. It was not until they entered his small studio that it all suddenly came back to him.
James was here. In his apartment. And he was going to sleep there. Spock kept himself from fidgeting as James looked around the sparsely decorated room. Spock did not have much in the way of Christmas items. A small rosemary plant trimmed to look like a pine tree was really the only indication that it was Christmas.
"I like it," James suddenly said as he placed the groceries down on the very small counter in the kitchen. "It's very... you."
Spock took it as a compliment.
The small space was filled with the smell of sugar cookies after James was done. Spock's place had never smelt so wonderful.
James asked if it was okay to turn the television on. Spock rarely used it, almost having forgotten it was there. James found the Muppet Christmas Carol just beginning and they sat on the cushions that surrounded Spock's low table. The cookies were warm and sat on a plate between them. Spock doubted he had eaten so many cookies in his life.
Spock glanced over. James' face was lit up by the large colorful lights on the TV. He had a calm expression, as if the values taught in the Christmas special were seeping into his skin and cleansing him. Spock crinkled his nose slightly at the horrible purple analogy. He normally found himself thinking poetically when he was thinking about James. Apparently he was a closet romantic.
Jim looked over to Spock. "What?" he asked amused.
Spock's cheeks flushed in his embarrassment at being caught. "You merely... seem very content for a man who just lost everything in a matter of hours."
Jim looked back to the show, it at a part of a large dance hosted by a strange bear. "Not /everything/," he said. "Got my health, right? I don't really have a lot saved up, but I had insurance on that apartment. And there's no way I'm losing my job any time soon." Spock was not sure if James could truly count on that in this economy; however, Spock wasn't sure what James did besides the fact that it involved computers. "True, it couldn't have happened at a worst time of the year, but you're here with me right?"
Spock's heart skipped. "I thought you preferred to spend the holiday season alone."
James shrugged a shoulder, his mood becoming sober again. "Usually, yeah. But you being here... Letting me be here, thank you, Spock."
"It is of no trouble. In fact, I had... I had meant to ask you for a date this morning."
James looked surprised. "Really?"
"Yes. However, I was too nervous."
Jim grinned affectionately. "I'm glad you overcame your nerves," he said before leaning forward and gently pressing his lips against Spock's.
Spock froze in surprise, not knowing what to do. Should he kiss back? Should he deepen it? Would that seem to fast? Was James expecting more? What if--?
James leaned back, a small laugh on his lips. "I'm not asking for any more than you're willing to give," he said.
Spock felt himself relax before he leaned forward himself to feel James' lips against his own again, allowing himself to enjoy it this time. Spock was sure he couldn't have asked for any more as he felt James grin against his lips. Spock heard the clock in the kitchen chime for midnight.
"Merry Christmas, Spock," James said, not breaking their contact.
"Merry Christmas, James."