fic: our first christmas
Our First Christmas (6706 words) by 
screamlet
Fandom: Star Trek (2009)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Joanna McCoy
Summary: For the K/S Advent (ksadvent) challenge, #50: Spock knows a lot about Christmas, but pretends he doesn't so Jim can teach him about the holiday. Jim finds out, and starts making things up. (Set at the end of the five-year mission.)
Notes: Thank you thank you thank so much waldorph for being an amazing lil' cheerleader AND hello, people from Twitter, thank you for listening to all the whining about this for the past like, month.
UPDATED: THERE IS ALSO SOME AMAZING ART BY pointe_dancer01 RIGHT HERE.
"Bones is late," Jim mused when they arrived at the Atlanta transport station. "He's never late."
"Perhaps now be a good time to discuss Christmas traditions I am not aware of," Spock noted. He sat on a bench with a view of the main entrance, but Jim chose to stand over him and muse.
"So you don't know thing one about Christmas?" Jim asked.
"This trip has informed me that it is celebrated in late December," Spock replied.
"Ha, okay, so," Jim began, and looked around the arrivals' hall for a moment. "Oh, there, see that wreath? Christmas wreath. It's made of evergreen to show… uh… resilience and shit, since evergreens stay green all year."
"There appear to be berries on that wreath," Spock said.
"Traditional thing, you know, to remind people spring is coming, berries and food will come back, blah blah blah," Jim said. "And, hm. Oh, there's -- gross, this is a public place."
"Yes?" Spock looked to where Jim looked, but only saw people milling about and a couple kissing in a doorway which, after five years on a ship with non-Vulcans, he no longer found shocking.
"Someone put mistletoe over there by that shop," Jim said. "People put mistletoe in doorways and when two people find themselves under the same sprig, they traditionally have to kiss."
"For what reason?"
"Who the fuck knows," Jim said.
"You should not feel obliged to --"
"No, no, it's okay, I just don't know why mistletoe when it's a fucking parasitic growth on trees and it's spread from tree to tree by bird droppings, but for some reason made it into homes and cute Christmas parties."
Spock heard Joanna McCoy screech and heard Jim grimace as she slammed into his side before he saw her, but Jim recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around her.
"Look at you, would you just look at you!" Jim said as she pried her arms off him and took a step or two back. "You're practically ancient, Joanna McCoy."
"Shut up, Jim," she laughed, and then she noticed Spock, who stood up and readjusted the strap of his bag across his chest. She smiled and said, "You must be Spock."
"I am," he said as they exchanged the ta'al.
"Right, right, I'm a jerk, hey -- Joanna McCoy, this is my boyfriend husband bondmate First Officer person, Spock. Spock, this is Joanna, the only known spawn of Dr. Leonard H. McCoy."
"Known?" Joanna asked incredulously. "That --"
"Forget I said anything."
"That is so gross, Jim," she sighed. "So gross. Come on, Dad's outside and refusing to pay parking when you've still got the ability to walk."
“I hope he’s not that stingy with his second family...”
“Jim!” Joanna shrieked. “I’m going to spoil all the presents. Every single one. Your friend Gary sent one and he told me it’s --”
“Not for little children’s ears because Gary is a sex fiend,” Jim sighed. He put an arm around Joanna’s shoulders and turned around, clearly looking for Spock, who quickened his step until he reached Jim. Spock was rewarded with Jim’s arm linking with his as they made their way to the car.
*
"I'm really glad you could come down for Christmas!" Joanna said from the front seat of the car. She was turned around to better address Jim and Spock, even though McCoy continually put his hand on her shoulder to forcibly turn her around, muttering about the ineffectiveness of a seatbelt when she wasn't really wearing it.
"We're not big Christmas people, but we're big McCoy fans," Jim assured her.
"Damn right you are," McCoy replied. "We're going to have a holly and jolly time if it kills us."
"No pressure, Dad," Joanna laughed.
"There really isn't!" Jim added. "I haven't actually celebrated Christmas since Iowa, and Spock's never celebrated, either, and doesn't have a clue about the holiday, so we're reclaiming Christmas and it's going to be awesome."
"Spock, really? Never celebrated?" McCoy asked with his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to look at Spock. "Thought your mother --"
"She was not a traditionalist," Spock said. "She did not appreciate the sentiment."
"Huh," McCoy said. "I would have thought you'd at least have read up on it, seeing as you know everything about everything in the known universe."
"Hm, yeah," Jim considered.
"I had little inclination or incentive to do so," Spock said, carefully omitting whether he actually did or didn't but stating a fact: he had little incentive or inclination to read on traditions, but did so anyway, and could tell Jim the origins of the mistletoe tradition, but it was much more revealing to allow Jim to interpret the holiday for him.
"This is going to make everything exciting!" Joanna said. "Jim told me you were really literal about things, and Christmas is just full of ridiculous shit that's --"
"LANGUAGE," McCoy and Jim yelled simultaneously.
"-- Begging to be taken seriously," she finished. "And: wow! Swearing? Really? Especially you, Dad!"
"I am of the opinion that you should be free from the judgements of these hypocrites and use whatever language you see fit," Spock said.
"Logic: one. Reactionary overprotective patriarchs: zero," Joanna informed McCoy smugly.
"Did you forget the Dad Curve? In which I automatically have a trillion-point lead because I helped conceive you and raise you?"
"Maybe next year, Spock," Joanna sighed. "Anyway, Christmas traditions don't make any logical sense, like, at all. Like holly."
Spock could have chimed in with the history of the use of holly on Earth (because it was good to know the strongest natural materials available on any given planet at any time in case of emergencies and holly fell into that category), but he instead held back and looked to Jim, who smiled and put his arm around Spock's shoulders.
"Pretty much every natural thing used in Christmas traditions is used because it survives the winter," Jim said, and that explanation was good enough for Spock.
"Oh, really?" Joanna asked. "Like a partridge in a pear tree?"
"Eight maids-a-milking?" McCoy added.
"We're not singing the song," Jim laughed. "Come on, it's awful and none of us know the words."
"Speak for yourself," McCoy replied. "Okay, what about another Christmas song? 'White Christmas'?"
"No way," Jim said. "That guy was legendary for beating his kids. Not having it."
"Okay," McCoy said slowly, "What about… 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer'?"
"Has a reindeer ever been recorded as having a 'red nose'?" Spock asked.
"Never mind," McCoy grumbled. "What about 'Silver Bells'?"
"We're here, Dad," Joanna laughed as they approached the house.
"We're going to find a song to sing and it's going to be magical!" McCoy declared as he shut off the car. "Disbelief is officially suspended until December 26, got it?"
"Give it up, Bones," Jim laughed as he climbed out of the car and went around to grab their bags from the trunk. "We're too goddamn enlightened for Christmas, so let's just sit around and drink rum for a week, huh?"
"Can I join in?"Joanna asked.
"You're too young to want to give your mom an aneurysm this badly," McCoy commented. "So no, you're not having a rum-soaked Christmas."
"But it was Jim's --"
"Jim is a 30-year-old married starship captain," McCoy reminded her. "When you're any of those things, we'll talk about increasing your rum quota, okay?"
McCoy and Joanna went inside and Spock was about to follow, but looked back at Jim, who was still leaning against the trunk of the car, grinning. Spock went back down the stairs and stood in front of Jim, allowing himself a smirk.
"They are amusing together," Spock said.
"Aren't they," Jim laughed.
"I should take care to avoid being added to the doctor's list of those to smother with his care."
"Wow," Jim said, "You really think you haven't been on it this whole time? Go ahead, sprain your ankle and see how many milliseconds it takes you to be on bedrest with a crew of servants bending to your every whim."
"Humans cannot move that quickly, Jim --"
"Go ahead. I dare you."
They narrowed their eyes at each other and Spock ticked an eyebrow up momentarily before he nodded. "I will take your word for it."
Jim leaned in and kissed him quickly, laughed again, and led the way into the house, Spock watching him and glad that this Christmas was already looking to be an improvement on his previous ones.
*
Except, of course, Spock could only keep his extensive academic knowledge of Christmas traditions to himself for so long -- roughly two more hours, or until they were preparing unsynthesized family dinner according to McCoy's specifications.
"No, Dad!" Joanna realized. "We didn't buy any carrots and now we have nothing to leave the reindeer! And the stores'll probably be closed and the synthesizer --"
"You just wanna see if your dad still hates carrots," Jim laughed. "He does, by the way. Loathes them. So that's probably why we don't have any carrots."
Spock noticed Joanna grin as she continued chopping vegetables and knew Jim's claim was correct.
"They just taste awful," McCoy groaned. "Unless they're caramelized within an inch of their lives and then their nutritional value is totally gone, so what's the point?"
"I noticed many trees outside and on the road here covered in lichen," Spock added. "Donner, Blitzen, and the others will likely prefer that to store-bought carrots left unrefrigerated all night."
And as soon as he said it, Spock realized he hadn't been thinking, too caught up in watching McCoy and Joanna elbow each other for counter space and room on the cutting board, and too distracted by Jim pressed against his side as he sifted through green beans with one hand and let the other travel across the small of Spock's back and casually hang on to a belt loop.
Except as soon as he spoke, Spock felt Jim's arm tense up behind him and had to look around due to the sudden silence.
"Never celebrated Christmas, huh?" Joanna asked.
"Didn't read up on it?" McCoy added. "'Little inclination or incentive to do so,' I believe were your exact words?"
"Lie of omission!" Jim realized. "Just because you had no incentive doesn't mean you didn't -- oh, you sneaky bastard."
"Jim, I --"
"No, it's okay," Jim laughed, and Spock was inclined to believe him when Jim leaned up and kissed his cheek and the side of the mouth. "McCoys, please take note: this day was the day we were all had by Spock. Never forget."
Spock looked around and thought he noticed McCoy and Joanna smirking to themselves before they turned back to their dinner preparations, and so of course, he turned back to Jim, usually the reason why they would be smirking or plotting against him.
Jim, of course, looked perfectly sweet and innocuous, which made Spock raise his eyebrow and instantly become wary.
"Well, these green beans are sifted," Jim said, meeting Spock's eyes coolly and just a little mischievously. "Need any more of my help?"
"I would prefer your presence in the kitchen in order to minimize the chances of your swift retaliation while I am off guard in assisting here," Spock said.
"Spock," Jim said sweetly, his hand traveling up to the back of Spock's neck. "Are you scared?"
"Cautious," Spock corrected. "Guarded. Vigilant."
"Cagey, leery, prudent, watchful," Joanna added, which earned her a kiss on the temple from her father.
"I'm just going to go get our other Christmas tradition," Jim said. "One of many, many, many to come."
Spock tilted his head and watched Jim smirk and walk away towards the guest room. Jim returned quickly with four brown headbands, all of which had strangely unrealistic antlers attached.
"I was saving those!" McCoy laughed, but Spock could only look from Jim to McCoy to Joanna and back to Jim.
"Just a typical Christmas tradition and luckily these were on sale at the place near our apartment," Jim said as he distributed the headbands. "Now, Spock, it's a holiday tradition --"
"Jim, will this be greatly exaggerated in an attempt to avenge --"
"What?" Jim asked. "Spock, everything we do around Christmas is about love and family."
"You'll find that the tie that binds Terran families together is embarrassment," McCoy added.
Spock reluctantly took a headband and held it carefully in his hands.
"So for those who don't know the rules," Jim said. "First one to take off the headband before Christmas morning has to wear it until New Year's."
"And what are the exceptions?" Spock asked.
"What do you mean 'exceptions'?" Jim asked.
"So this tradition started back when I was in residency," McCoy chimed in. "A doctor once delivered a kid while wearing his antlers."
"It wasn't you, right?" Joanna asked. "It wasn't -- I wasn't that kid, right? Because I think I'm kinda emotionally scarred enough for someone my age and --"
McCoy put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, which wasn't a 'yes' or 'no', but seemed to comfort Joanna anyway.
"Anyway," Jim said, and he met Spock's eyes. "Once the headband goes on, it doesn't come off until Christmas. Two days from now, buddy."
"And if I win?" Spock asked.
"You're the Christmas King and we pay you tribute," Jim said. "Goes both ways, of course. Also, pretty sure the Christmas King is an absolute monarch in these parts."
"Then I will endeavor to be a benevolent ruler," Spock said as he slipped the headband on.
Everyone laughed as they put on their headbands and McCoy snapped his fingers suddenly.
"Maybe Jim didn't mention this yet, Spock," McCoy began. "No sonic showers in the house."
Spock swallowed slightly as McCoy smiled and added, "And you really shouldn't get your antlers wet, so figure out a way to work proper hygiene into your situation. Unless, you know. You're five-year-old Joanna and want to win so badly you won't shower for a week and a half, but then I reserve the right to throw you in that stream out back."
"That may not be necessary just yet," Spock said.
"Dad, do you have to tell everyone that?" Joanna whined. "I'll be in my room."
"Remember to keep the door open so we can make sure you're not cheating!" he called out. "No honor amongst thieves and all that."
"Whatever, you're so embarrassing!"
The three of them looked down the hall and saw the door to her room slightly ajar, which McCoy deemed 'good enough.'
"Her mom tells me it's the beginning of those exciting years where she hates us all," McCoy sighed. "So everyone get ready for some mood swings!"
"She'll be fine," Jim said. "Now let's get out the tree skirt so Spock can put it on."
"I beg your pardon?" Spock asked.
"The tree skirt," Jim said, and he let out a sigh of his own. "Seriously, didn't you find that in your reading?"
"Tree skirts were used at the base of the pine tree to collect all the pins and needles that fall while it's out," McCoy explained. "Now that everyone's switched to artificial, they're just decorative. But --"
"But wearing the tree skirt is an old, old tradition," Jim interrupted. "People used to think forest spirits were still in the tree when they were brought inside, so people had to dress up as terrifying or ridiculously as possible to scare them out. This is where the ugly holiday sweater tradition comes from, too."
"I have no ugly holiday sweaters, Jim," Spock said slowly.
"Oh, I've got plenty," McCoy laughed. "Yeah, Jim. Go get the tree skirt, I'll go get our sweaters. Gotta keep the demons away."
As McCoy ran down the hall to the master bedroom, Spock turned to Jim, who was still smirking, but tried to smooth it into an innocent smile when Spock raised his eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"Jim, I apol --"
"You don't have to apologize!" Jim said a little too eagerly. "So you read up on Christmas and let me yammer on about shit you already knew about -- business as usual, right? But there are lots of traditions that haven't been put into the Federation cultural data banks, and you're going to discover them."
"How old are these traditions, Jim?" Spock asked, his eyebrows raised again.
"Now that's unimportant," Jim said. "What's really important is finding that tree skirt and making sure it fits around your hips."
*
"Wow," Joanna said to Spock later. "Your hips really are the perfect width for that tree skirt. And like, you’re really tall, so it’s a good length, too.” Joanna was sitting on the floor in front of the tree, a mug of cider in her hands, and she looked at Spock appreciatively as he modeled the tree skirt for his audience. “Dad, Jim, this a really good outfit!”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Jim said. “Your dad and I aren’t just pretty faces.”
McCoy drank a mug of eggnog at the kitchen table, his eyes glassy and puffy from rubbing tears away when he had seen Spock emerge from his and Jim's room in the tree skirt.
"I am so sorry, Spock," McCoy said, his thumbs running along the rim of his mug. "That I couldn't find any old fashioned petticoats anywhere in the house. I thought Jocelyn might have kept her Lil' Bo Peep costume from years ago and stuffed it into storage with all my stuff."
"You and Mom dressed up?" Joanna asked. "Like, together? As a couple?"
"Sure we did," McCoy replied. "I was the sheep."
"That is so cool," Joanna said. "I want pictures."
"You'll have to pry them out of your mother's cold dead hands, since we probably looked happy in them and you know that's impossible."
Jim sat on the couch examining ornaments for the tree and glanced up at the mention of petticoats, then spent the rest of the time considering Spock, who clasped his hands at the small of his back and looked at Jim expectantly. Jim looked at Spock's face and asked:
"Is this a sexist tradition?" Jim tilted his head a little and added, "Am I sexist for finding Spock in a skirt really kind of amusing?"
"It is not malicious in intent," Spock noted.
"I think I'm more amused at the fact that it's a tree skirt, not just a skirt," Jim said. "It's not the skirt element I'm laughing at --"
"But the tree accessory part," Joanna finished.
"Are all Christmas traditions performed at the expense of newcomers?" Spock asked.
"Well, yeah," McCoy said. "Correction: are all traditions in general designed to include newcomers in on the fun of being a family and hassling them? Then, yes."
"Jo, you better get that eggnog away from your dad," Jim warned. "It's only about four o'clock and he's already admitted Spock is family. Drunk as shit right there."
“Hypocrite!” Joanna said, but no one paid her mind except Spock.
"Take my eggnog and there will be pain," McCoy replied. "Non-replicated magic right here, everyone, and I bought chocolate syrup to surreptitiously pour into Spock's."
"I want chocolate in mine, too," Joanna said. "Also, I think Spock needs more chocolate because his sweater is the ugliest of all of them, Dad. That's so mean."
"I am sure your father chose this sweater because it compliments my coloring and not for any other --"
"I chose it because it's a blue sweater with Christmas monkeys on it, and I find that fucking hilarious, Spock," McCoy replied from inside his mug of eggnog.
“Hypocrite, Dad!” Joanna cried, but McCoy only toasted her with his mug and smiled smugly.
"Well, there is that," Spock said, looking down at the monkeys some more.
*
Spock woke the next morning, Christmas Eve, to an empty and cold bed, indicating Jim had already been up for some time. His next question re: Jim's location was answered when there was a small cracking sound from the kitchen and McCoy's deep laughter and swearing floating down the hall.
Spock also sighed deeply when he felt the crook in his neck due to sleeping strangely with the antler headband still on -- and he would have certainly cheated or forfeited had Jim not slid into bed last night and insisted on a silent blowjob with the antlers on, an event that certainly entered itself as one of the more surreal experiences in his life.
He emerged from the guest bedroom and wandered down into the kitchen, where Jim (antlers still on) was mopping something from the floor and laughing while McCoy and Joanna sorted through… eggs. At least two dozen of them, Spock counted.
"Oh, you're awake!" Joanna said, her head whipping around to look at him and the antlers moving slightly with her movement. "Good morning!"
"Morning, Spock. Sorry if we woke you -- you always wake up this late?" McCoy asked. McCoy had never, ever suggested himself to be what Terrans coloquially referred to as a “morning person”, but now, this morning, McCoy seemed.. happier, certainly consistently happier than Spock had ever seen him on board the ship (and therefore ever, period), and looked excited as he greeted Spock with antlers drooping slightly into his face due to sleeping on them all night.
"Jim kept me up," Spock said slowly, aware he was still slightly groggy and very intently focused on Jim kneeling on the floor with a towel, his antlers moving as he scrubbed. "Why do we have so many eggs?" Spock asked the floor.
"Jim reminded us of the sacred holiday of Happy Kisseggmas," Joanna informed him.
"I was woken from an unusually deep sleep cycle and find I can barely pronounce your portmanteau," Spock replied. "Please explain this mysterious newly discovered tradition."
"Well," Jim said from the floor, and Spock sat on a tall stool at the kitchen island to continue the awakening process. "You know how the spring holiday of Easter has a rabbit and chocolate and stuff?"
"I have been vaguely acquainted with that holiday, yes," Spock said.
"Well," Jim began. "Here on Earth, after First Contact, when Earth made the shift from fierce religious sectarianism to a more global culture, the rabbit kind of got shoved into every holiday. So now there's eggs at Christmas, like for Merry Kisseggmas."
"And how does it work?" Spock asked. "How many eggs will I be forced to eat this holiday season? I do not even like eggs."
"That's up to you," Joanna chimed in as she lined eggs up in halved cartons, one half of a carton for each of them. "The tradition goes that when someone tells you 'Merry Christmas', you return the sentiment and either kiss them or give them an egg."
"And what is the purpose of the egg? Or the kissing?" Spock asked.
"The kissing's your run-of-the-mill tactile human affection," McCoy said. "The eggs, well. Gift-giving. I can't kiss you but I will give you this egg. Maybe harkening back to wanting to do something nice for someone. Also, when hard-boiled? Delicious."
"Every day," Spock informed them, "I am more and more surprised that your species did not have widespread plague more often than it did when so many of your traditions revolve around --"
"Spock, they can be kisses on the cheek," McCoy sighed. "If you feel like turning this into a game of oral spelunking with Jim, that's your business."
"I can't remember," Jim said as he joined them at the kitchen island on a stool next to Spock. "Does anyone win Merry Kisseggmas or is it just for love of kissing and eggs?"
"Depends on how you feel about eggs and kissing, I think," Joanna said. "I mean, I want lots of eggs so I can boil them and dye them and then eat them."
"And if I do not want to be kissed by anyone but my spouse?" Spock asked with a careful look to McCoy.
"Then initiate," Jim realized. "There we go, it has to be mutual. If someone initiates with a kiss, you have to return that; if someone --"
"Merry Christmas to you, McCoys," Spock interrupted as he grabbed two eggs from Joanna and placed them both in front of her and her father.
"Oh, this is going to be amazing," Joanna said. "I'm so sorry, Spock, but you're never going to sleep again while you're here. Also, Mer --"
"Merry Christmas, Joanna," Spock repeated as he handed over another egg. Jim laughed and kissed Spock until McCoy sighed and grumbled something about losing his appetite.
*
The hour of 1 PM to 2 PM on Christmas Eve was the most hectic of Spock’s life as he assisted with Christmas Eve lunch, anticipated the various greetings being chimed in his ears (particularly when Joanna realized she could say ‘Merry’, get an egg from Spock, and then say, ‘had a little lamb’, so he was quickly left without eggs), and dodged kisses from McCoy, Joanna, and eventually even Jim, who was taking a turn for the obscene just to make Spock blush harder.
“No one,” Spock announced, “Is getting a single sandwich. I am eating all the sandwiches, and should anyone like one, it will cost you two eggs.”
“Steep,” Jim commented. “I don’t care, though, I like kissing you, and I don’t mind kissing them.”
“Wow, thanks,” McCoy commented automatically as he eyed the sandwich platter Spock had abducted and taken to the living room couch.
“Aw, Bones, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jim said, and then he clapped and looked at Spock. “Hey. I kiss Bones, you give me half a sandwich.”
“You are selling your sexual integrity for half a sandwich, Jim -- I hope you realize this,” Spock said carefully.
“Dad, I’ll make you a sandwich if you kiss Jim,” Joanna said as she rushed into the living room and sat at Spock’s feet. “I’ll make you like, I don’t know, a meatloaf. I’ll make anything. Dad, I’ll build you a robot.”
“Hold out for... actually, I don’t think you can get better from an 11-year-old than a robot,” Jim considered. “Robots are awesome. Time to kiss me if you want a robot!”
“Do you have the parts to build a robot?” Joanna whispered to Spock. “Also, do you know how to build a robot?”
Spock was about to reply, but then looked up so he could watch McCoy enter the living room and stand in front of Jim, who put one hand on McCoy’s hip and pointed to Spock. “Half a sandwich for every second we kiss.”
“Dad, don’t be too gross,” Joanna whined.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” McCoy asked, stopping his gradual leaning in towards Jim. “Too gross? Know what, all of you are being a little too --”
And Jim, with that... Jimness of his, grabbed McCoy’s jaw, turned his face, and pressed their lips together until McCoy floundered and pulled away.
“No, you can’t just --”
“That was three seconds,” Spock interrupted, “Which means one and a half sandwiches for all of you. Thank you for playing. I will now eat all the sandwiches.”
“Nope, more sandwiches,” McCoy announced. “Merry Christmas, Jim -- cover your eyes, Jo.”
“What why -- ew Dad,” Joanna said as she folded an antler down to cover her eyes from her father grabbing Jim by the belt loops and kissing him hard, a real kiss that had Spock tightening his hold on the edges of the serving tray as he stared.
“Is it over yet?” Joanna asked. “Didn’t anyone tell my dad parents making out is gross?”
“It is not over yet,” Spock commented curtly. “Twelve seconds,” he added, hoping to break them apart. “You have run out of sandwich halves to win.”
“I’ve run out of barf,” Joanna added, still hiding behind an antler. “Can I look yet?”
“No. Jim holds the record on the ship for holding his breath the longest underwater.”
“Where’s my dad on that list?” Joanna asked.
“High enough that I am beginning to question how they each cultivated that particular skill,” Spock replied.
Jim breaks the kiss and he and McCoy laugh and gasp, then look to Spock expectantly.
“Thirty-two seconds,” Spock said.
“Can I look yet?” Joanna asked. “Dad, I’m gonna look.”
“Yeah, Jo, the world is safe from your dad’s mouth,” Jim said as he sauntered over to Spock’s spot on the couch, flopped down next to him, and took a sandwich off the platter. “Merry Christmas, Spock?” he asked, his mouth full of food. “Kiss me?”
“Can I say ‘ew’?” McCoy asked as he walked over and grabbed a half sandwich. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Think of the children.”
“I’m thinking of sandwiches,” Joanna said.
“And thanks for your support back there, kid,” McCoy said. “It’s your job to automatically assure your parents that they’re the best at everything.”
“Parents don’t kiss, ugh, that’s so gross,” Joanna shuddered. “I was made in an artificial gestation unit, not as a result of kissing and other -- cheater!!” For her patience, Joanna was rewarded with McCoy gently yanking the antler headband off her head and letting it topple to the floor.
“Cheater!!” Joanna laughed. “I don’t -- so not fair! Come on! Someone had to have seen that!”
“I apologize,” Spock said. “Jim had finished chewing and... occupied my attention until just now.”
“So not fair,” Joanna whined. “Like women haven’t been oppressed enough and now I have to be someone’s serf for Christmas! Dad!”
“It’s character building,” he assured her. “Now come on, grab some more sandwich and let’s go watch a movie.”
When they were alone, Spock looked over at Jim, who was still chewing but managed to give him a smug grin all the same. “Are we having fun or are we having fun?”
“You should stop speaking with your mouth full,” Spock commented. “I can see the particles flying out of your mouth.”
“Me and Bones didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did we?” Jim asked as he moved along the couch, his head closer to Spock’s lap every second. “Because I think it should have.”
“Are you done eating?” Spock asked. “I would like us to return to our room so that I may reclaim every inch of your skin, if you are amenable to such a suggestion.”
“Um.” Jim took another bite of his sandwich and added, “So you like, said that. Out loud.”
“Merry Christmas, Jim,” Spock replied. “Watching you engage in a highly sexualized, though not actually sexual, kiss with another man has inspired me to feats of verbal communication you, apparently, never thought possible.”
Jim’s mouth hung open and Spock tucked it closed with one finger, but then it just fell open again.
“Talk dirty to me and I will never, ever ask for anything ever again, ever, really seriously ever,” Jim said.
“Are you quite done with eating, then?”
Jim put the rest of his sandwich on the tray and rushed from the couch to their room. Spock set the tray aside and followed Jim, and managed to lightly pick the antlers off the top of his head, which Jim didn’t notice until they had already tumbled off and hit his back. Jim stopped in the hall and looked around, and then glared at Spock.
“You know what,” Jim said, “They would have poked you in the eye anyway, so it’s for the best and I don’t even care. I don’t! I really don’t!”
“I can see how much you care eating away at you like a bacteria,” Spock said, trying not to smile, but Jim caught that anyway and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth where the smile was lurking.
“Come on!” Joanna cried suddenly, and Jim and Spock backed away from each other. “If I knew it was a couples’ retreat, I would have invited my boyfriend!”
“You’re eleven, what -- you know what? Never mind,” Jim said. “We’ll take it to our room.”
“Thank you,” she sighed. “Dinner’s at six. Me and Dad are cooking.”
Spock tugged on Jim’s cuff to bring him into their room, but Jim leaned out again and yelled down the hall and up the stairs, “And stop letting her watch The Golden Girls! She’s eleven, what the hell does she know about couples’ retreats?”
“It’s classic television!” McCoy shouted back. “Bring cookies, Jo!”
“There’s a marathon,” Joanna explained as she grabbed more cookies and retreated back to the bedroom.
“Have you ever seen this show?” Jim asked Spock. “It’s --”
“Shut up,” Spock said as he dragged Jim inside and closed the door.
*
After dinner, McCoy declared an antler headband showdown, as it was just him and Spock left and, clearly, he felt threatened.
“We wrestle,” McCoy said as they stood in the middle of the living room, “And then --”
“REVENGE!” Joanna cried as she jumped up and snatched the headband off her father’s head. “Spock is Christmas King!”
“Traitors don’t get dessert!” McCoy yelled.
“I will grant you asylum,” Spock assured her. “In a spirit of good will, which I am informed is also the spirit of Christmas, my Prince Consort and I will serve dessert to you losers.”
“This is humiliating,” McCoy sighs. “Jocelyn and I once kept them on for a week and now --”
“Oh wow can we just eat our pudding and watch that clay reindeer be hassled and outcast by his emotionally abusive dad already!” Joanna asked.
“Should I be worried that’s your favorite traditional cartoon special?” McCoy asked.
“I like reindeer?” she replied.
Spock looked at Jim as they prepared the dessert and serving dishes, exchanging a smirk as they listened to them bicker.
“That’s the real language of love,” Jim said. “Nonstop bitching and complaining.”
“Apparently,” Spock replied. “Have I told you recently that you are in need of a haircut because it resembles badly maintained plant life?”
“It’s not supposed to be true,” Jim sighed. “But it’s nice of you to make the effort.”
“I will endeavor to do better during my reign as Christmas king,” Spock said.
“And the rest of our lives,” Jim said. “Pudding!”
*
Spock woke up in the middle of the night, Christmas morning, to Jim slipping out from beneath his arm. “Jim?”
“Get back to sleep,” Jim whispered.
“Where are you going?”
“Last Christmas tradition,” Jim said. “Mom and Dad get up in the middle of the night and play Santa, sneaking presents under the tree and eating the cookies left for Santa.”
“Can I come?” Spock asked, vaguely aware he was half-asleep and sounded too childlike, something that was confirmed by Jim grinning brightly in the darkness and leaning in to kiss Spock on the forehead. “But why are you the mother?” Spock asked as Jim edged away.
“Go back to sleep.”
*
Spoke woke up what felt like a short time later to find Jim under his arm again and fervent knocking at the door to the guest room.
“What is it?” Jim called out, pulling the blankets and Spock’s arm tighter around him.
“Come on, get up, I want some presents,” Joanna whined. “Get up and let’s open some presents.”
“Are there presents as well?” Spock asked the back of Jim’s neck, impressed on some level with his grasp of irony after such frequently interrupted sleep. “This has been exhausting holiday. I am not sure I want additional surprises.”
“Come on, come on, she can’t open presents until everyone is there,” Jim sighed.
They left their room and entered the living room, where Joanna was already sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, her face buried in her folded arms and her stocking on the table, condoms littered all over it.
“This is so embarrassing,” she sobbed. Spock looked at McCoy, who was watching her and looked... many things, mostly annoyed and pained, simultaneously.
“She didn’t like the practical aspect of our gifts,” McCoy explained to Jim.
“What? I thought that was the best part!” Jim said as he plopped down next to her at the low table.
“It’s just -- ugh, why do you all have to be like this?!” she cried. “Can’t you just be normal?”
“Normal?” McCoy asked. “You mean not tell you jack shit and let some boy control your life because you were too ‘embarrassed’ to learn how to buy and use a condom?”
“Also, remember,” Jim added, “Families are bound together by embarrassment, and we thought this was really funny and useful.”
“So help me, Joanna McCoy, you are going to be a responsible adult while I have a say in it,” McCoy warned her.
“Oh, responsible like leaving the planet for five years at a time?” she spat back as she wiped her eyes.
“Hey now,” Jim began.
“Responsible so when that happens you can take care of your damn self,” McCoy replied.
Spock swallowed thickly and tugged at Jim to return to their room for a while longer, and Jim finally did when McCoy nudged him aside to sit next to Joanna on the floor and hug her tightly until she hugged him back.
*
Joanna invited them back to the living room a while later, at which point Spock announced, “The Christmas King requires cookies for breakfast, if you please.”
“The lone girl in the house isn’t getting them for you, sorry,” Joanna said as she sorted the presents into their respective piles. “I declare myself Prime Minister and too good to --”
“Blah blah blah, I want presents,” Jim said as he sat down in front of the tree. “Which pile’s mine? I want.”
“Wait a second,” Joanna asked as she opened her third box of clothing. “Did we all get each other clothes?”
“I believe so,” Spock said as he examined the pair of jeans that were technically his size, but still looked far too constricting to be comfortable in any sense of the word.
“I got everyone clothes,” Jim said as he put on every hat, sweater, jacket, and sock he received. “Clothes can come with you where ever you go. And, you know, your PADD, but we have those already, so.” Spock watched him glance to McCoy, both of them in their stupid animal-themed earflap hats (a tiger for McCoy, a rooster for Jim).
“That’s fucking sad, guys,” Joanna said as she pulled out her own hat (an owl).
“Language!” McCoy and Jim yelled.
“Hypocrites,” Spock added as he took his similarly-shaped box and opened it. “What animal is this?”
“A deer,” Jim said.
“A reindeer?”
“Oh. I wasn’t even thinking of that. No, just a regular deer.”
“A female deer, judging from the lack of antlers,” Spock said.
“Or one at the end of their mating season when the antlers fall off,” Joanna pointed out.
“Or,” Jim began, “It’s a fucking hat and the antlers aren’t pictured because it’s a two-dimensional representation of a deer.”
“But your logic is flawed,” Spock said. “These tiny flaps that would sit on the crown of my head are supposed to represent eyes -- also completely inaccurate according to the photos I have seen of Terran animals in the Cervidae family -- and by that logic, there should also be antlers represented in a --”
“Christmas is over, I’m going back to sleep,” Jim declared, but only got to plant his hand down on the floor before Spock wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist and pulled Jim to him again.
“Thank you,” he muttered against the shell of Jim’s ear.
“You also have big deer eyes -- I was going for that mostly,” Jim admitted as he pressed back against Spock.
“But, again, they are not protruding from the top of my head --”
“Let me go,” Jim whined. “I don’t want to be here in the land of free-falling disbelief.”
“I’m going to go over here where it’s less creepy,” Joanna said as she edged towards her father. “At least he’s a creep I can handle.”
“Now how did I ever,” McCoy said as he hugged her tightly in a sweet, familial headlock, “Ever end up with this darling little angel, this sweeter than artificial chemical sweetener sweet girl, this --”
“Gonna puke, I promise,” she laughed.
“Come on, you can take the antlers off now,” Jim said as he reached back and slipped them off Spock’s head. “Now it’s time for the traditional Christmas earflap hat, and you have to wear this one until the new year.”
“You made that up.”
“Do you care?”
“Not particularly.”
screamlet
Fandom: Star Trek (2009)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Joanna McCoy
Summary: For the K/S Advent (ksadvent) challenge, #50: Spock knows a lot about Christmas, but pretends he doesn't so Jim can teach him about the holiday. Jim finds out, and starts making things up. (Set at the end of the five-year mission.)
Notes: Thank you thank you thank so much waldorph for being an amazing lil' cheerleader AND hello, people from Twitter, thank you for listening to all the whining about this for the past like, month.
UPDATED: THERE IS ALSO SOME AMAZING ART BY pointe_dancer01 RIGHT HERE.
"Bones is late," Jim mused when they arrived at the Atlanta transport station. "He's never late."
"Perhaps now be a good time to discuss Christmas traditions I am not aware of," Spock noted. He sat on a bench with a view of the main entrance, but Jim chose to stand over him and muse.
"So you don't know thing one about Christmas?" Jim asked.
"This trip has informed me that it is celebrated in late December," Spock replied.
"Ha, okay, so," Jim began, and looked around the arrivals' hall for a moment. "Oh, there, see that wreath? Christmas wreath. It's made of evergreen to show… uh… resilience and shit, since evergreens stay green all year."
"There appear to be berries on that wreath," Spock said.
"Traditional thing, you know, to remind people spring is coming, berries and food will come back, blah blah blah," Jim said. "And, hm. Oh, there's -- gross, this is a public place."
"Yes?" Spock looked to where Jim looked, but only saw people milling about and a couple kissing in a doorway which, after five years on a ship with non-Vulcans, he no longer found shocking.
"Someone put mistletoe over there by that shop," Jim said. "People put mistletoe in doorways and when two people find themselves under the same sprig, they traditionally have to kiss."
"For what reason?"
"Who the fuck knows," Jim said.
"You should not feel obliged to --"
"No, no, it's okay, I just don't know why mistletoe when it's a fucking parasitic growth on trees and it's spread from tree to tree by bird droppings, but for some reason made it into homes and cute Christmas parties."
Spock heard Joanna McCoy screech and heard Jim grimace as she slammed into his side before he saw her, but Jim recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around her.
"Look at you, would you just look at you!" Jim said as she pried her arms off him and took a step or two back. "You're practically ancient, Joanna McCoy."
"Shut up, Jim," she laughed, and then she noticed Spock, who stood up and readjusted the strap of his bag across his chest. She smiled and said, "You must be Spock."
"I am," he said as they exchanged the ta'al.
"Right, right, I'm a jerk, hey -- Joanna McCoy, this is my boyfriend husband bondmate First Officer person, Spock. Spock, this is Joanna, the only known spawn of Dr. Leonard H. McCoy."
"Known?" Joanna asked incredulously. "That --"
"Forget I said anything."
"That is so gross, Jim," she sighed. "So gross. Come on, Dad's outside and refusing to pay parking when you've still got the ability to walk."
“I hope he’s not that stingy with his second family...”
“Jim!” Joanna shrieked. “I’m going to spoil all the presents. Every single one. Your friend Gary sent one and he told me it’s --”
“Not for little children’s ears because Gary is a sex fiend,” Jim sighed. He put an arm around Joanna’s shoulders and turned around, clearly looking for Spock, who quickened his step until he reached Jim. Spock was rewarded with Jim’s arm linking with his as they made their way to the car.
*
"I'm really glad you could come down for Christmas!" Joanna said from the front seat of the car. She was turned around to better address Jim and Spock, even though McCoy continually put his hand on her shoulder to forcibly turn her around, muttering about the ineffectiveness of a seatbelt when she wasn't really wearing it.
"We're not big Christmas people, but we're big McCoy fans," Jim assured her.
"Damn right you are," McCoy replied. "We're going to have a holly and jolly time if it kills us."
"No pressure, Dad," Joanna laughed.
"There really isn't!" Jim added. "I haven't actually celebrated Christmas since Iowa, and Spock's never celebrated, either, and doesn't have a clue about the holiday, so we're reclaiming Christmas and it's going to be awesome."
"Spock, really? Never celebrated?" McCoy asked with his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to look at Spock. "Thought your mother --"
"She was not a traditionalist," Spock said. "She did not appreciate the sentiment."
"Huh," McCoy said. "I would have thought you'd at least have read up on it, seeing as you know everything about everything in the known universe."
"Hm, yeah," Jim considered.
"I had little inclination or incentive to do so," Spock said, carefully omitting whether he actually did or didn't but stating a fact: he had little incentive or inclination to read on traditions, but did so anyway, and could tell Jim the origins of the mistletoe tradition, but it was much more revealing to allow Jim to interpret the holiday for him.
"This is going to make everything exciting!" Joanna said. "Jim told me you were really literal about things, and Christmas is just full of ridiculous shit that's --"
"LANGUAGE," McCoy and Jim yelled simultaneously.
"-- Begging to be taken seriously," she finished. "And: wow! Swearing? Really? Especially you, Dad!"
"I am of the opinion that you should be free from the judgements of these hypocrites and use whatever language you see fit," Spock said.
"Logic: one. Reactionary overprotective patriarchs: zero," Joanna informed McCoy smugly.
"Did you forget the Dad Curve? In which I automatically have a trillion-point lead because I helped conceive you and raise you?"
"Maybe next year, Spock," Joanna sighed. "Anyway, Christmas traditions don't make any logical sense, like, at all. Like holly."
Spock could have chimed in with the history of the use of holly on Earth (because it was good to know the strongest natural materials available on any given planet at any time in case of emergencies and holly fell into that category), but he instead held back and looked to Jim, who smiled and put his arm around Spock's shoulders.
"Pretty much every natural thing used in Christmas traditions is used because it survives the winter," Jim said, and that explanation was good enough for Spock.
"Oh, really?" Joanna asked. "Like a partridge in a pear tree?"
"Eight maids-a-milking?" McCoy added.
"We're not singing the song," Jim laughed. "Come on, it's awful and none of us know the words."
"Speak for yourself," McCoy replied. "Okay, what about another Christmas song? 'White Christmas'?"
"No way," Jim said. "That guy was legendary for beating his kids. Not having it."
"Okay," McCoy said slowly, "What about… 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer'?"
"Has a reindeer ever been recorded as having a 'red nose'?" Spock asked.
"Never mind," McCoy grumbled. "What about 'Silver Bells'?"
"We're here, Dad," Joanna laughed as they approached the house.
"We're going to find a song to sing and it's going to be magical!" McCoy declared as he shut off the car. "Disbelief is officially suspended until December 26, got it?"
"Give it up, Bones," Jim laughed as he climbed out of the car and went around to grab their bags from the trunk. "We're too goddamn enlightened for Christmas, so let's just sit around and drink rum for a week, huh?"
"Can I join in?"Joanna asked.
"You're too young to want to give your mom an aneurysm this badly," McCoy commented. "So no, you're not having a rum-soaked Christmas."
"But it was Jim's --"
"Jim is a 30-year-old married starship captain," McCoy reminded her. "When you're any of those things, we'll talk about increasing your rum quota, okay?"
McCoy and Joanna went inside and Spock was about to follow, but looked back at Jim, who was still leaning against the trunk of the car, grinning. Spock went back down the stairs and stood in front of Jim, allowing himself a smirk.
"They are amusing together," Spock said.
"Aren't they," Jim laughed.
"I should take care to avoid being added to the doctor's list of those to smother with his care."
"Wow," Jim said, "You really think you haven't been on it this whole time? Go ahead, sprain your ankle and see how many milliseconds it takes you to be on bedrest with a crew of servants bending to your every whim."
"Humans cannot move that quickly, Jim --"
"Go ahead. I dare you."
They narrowed their eyes at each other and Spock ticked an eyebrow up momentarily before he nodded. "I will take your word for it."
Jim leaned in and kissed him quickly, laughed again, and led the way into the house, Spock watching him and glad that this Christmas was already looking to be an improvement on his previous ones.
*
Except, of course, Spock could only keep his extensive academic knowledge of Christmas traditions to himself for so long -- roughly two more hours, or until they were preparing unsynthesized family dinner according to McCoy's specifications.
"No, Dad!" Joanna realized. "We didn't buy any carrots and now we have nothing to leave the reindeer! And the stores'll probably be closed and the synthesizer --"
"You just wanna see if your dad still hates carrots," Jim laughed. "He does, by the way. Loathes them. So that's probably why we don't have any carrots."
Spock noticed Joanna grin as she continued chopping vegetables and knew Jim's claim was correct.
"They just taste awful," McCoy groaned. "Unless they're caramelized within an inch of their lives and then their nutritional value is totally gone, so what's the point?"
"I noticed many trees outside and on the road here covered in lichen," Spock added. "Donner, Blitzen, and the others will likely prefer that to store-bought carrots left unrefrigerated all night."
And as soon as he said it, Spock realized he hadn't been thinking, too caught up in watching McCoy and Joanna elbow each other for counter space and room on the cutting board, and too distracted by Jim pressed against his side as he sifted through green beans with one hand and let the other travel across the small of Spock's back and casually hang on to a belt loop.
Except as soon as he spoke, Spock felt Jim's arm tense up behind him and had to look around due to the sudden silence.
"Never celebrated Christmas, huh?" Joanna asked.
"Didn't read up on it?" McCoy added. "'Little inclination or incentive to do so,' I believe were your exact words?"
"Lie of omission!" Jim realized. "Just because you had no incentive doesn't mean you didn't -- oh, you sneaky bastard."
"Jim, I --"
"No, it's okay," Jim laughed, and Spock was inclined to believe him when Jim leaned up and kissed his cheek and the side of the mouth. "McCoys, please take note: this day was the day we were all had by Spock. Never forget."
Spock looked around and thought he noticed McCoy and Joanna smirking to themselves before they turned back to their dinner preparations, and so of course, he turned back to Jim, usually the reason why they would be smirking or plotting against him.
Jim, of course, looked perfectly sweet and innocuous, which made Spock raise his eyebrow and instantly become wary.
"Well, these green beans are sifted," Jim said, meeting Spock's eyes coolly and just a little mischievously. "Need any more of my help?"
"I would prefer your presence in the kitchen in order to minimize the chances of your swift retaliation while I am off guard in assisting here," Spock said.
"Spock," Jim said sweetly, his hand traveling up to the back of Spock's neck. "Are you scared?"
"Cautious," Spock corrected. "Guarded. Vigilant."
"Cagey, leery, prudent, watchful," Joanna added, which earned her a kiss on the temple from her father.
"I'm just going to go get our other Christmas tradition," Jim said. "One of many, many, many to come."
Spock tilted his head and watched Jim smirk and walk away towards the guest room. Jim returned quickly with four brown headbands, all of which had strangely unrealistic antlers attached.
"I was saving those!" McCoy laughed, but Spock could only look from Jim to McCoy to Joanna and back to Jim.
"Just a typical Christmas tradition and luckily these were on sale at the place near our apartment," Jim said as he distributed the headbands. "Now, Spock, it's a holiday tradition --"
"Jim, will this be greatly exaggerated in an attempt to avenge --"
"What?" Jim asked. "Spock, everything we do around Christmas is about love and family."
"You'll find that the tie that binds Terran families together is embarrassment," McCoy added.
Spock reluctantly took a headband and held it carefully in his hands.
"So for those who don't know the rules," Jim said. "First one to take off the headband before Christmas morning has to wear it until New Year's."
"And what are the exceptions?" Spock asked.
"What do you mean 'exceptions'?" Jim asked.
"So this tradition started back when I was in residency," McCoy chimed in. "A doctor once delivered a kid while wearing his antlers."
"It wasn't you, right?" Joanna asked. "It wasn't -- I wasn't that kid, right? Because I think I'm kinda emotionally scarred enough for someone my age and --"
McCoy put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, which wasn't a 'yes' or 'no', but seemed to comfort Joanna anyway.
"Anyway," Jim said, and he met Spock's eyes. "Once the headband goes on, it doesn't come off until Christmas. Two days from now, buddy."
"And if I win?" Spock asked.
"You're the Christmas King and we pay you tribute," Jim said. "Goes both ways, of course. Also, pretty sure the Christmas King is an absolute monarch in these parts."
"Then I will endeavor to be a benevolent ruler," Spock said as he slipped the headband on.
Everyone laughed as they put on their headbands and McCoy snapped his fingers suddenly.
"Maybe Jim didn't mention this yet, Spock," McCoy began. "No sonic showers in the house."
Spock swallowed slightly as McCoy smiled and added, "And you really shouldn't get your antlers wet, so figure out a way to work proper hygiene into your situation. Unless, you know. You're five-year-old Joanna and want to win so badly you won't shower for a week and a half, but then I reserve the right to throw you in that stream out back."
"That may not be necessary just yet," Spock said.
"Dad, do you have to tell everyone that?" Joanna whined. "I'll be in my room."
"Remember to keep the door open so we can make sure you're not cheating!" he called out. "No honor amongst thieves and all that."
"Whatever, you're so embarrassing!"
The three of them looked down the hall and saw the door to her room slightly ajar, which McCoy deemed 'good enough.'
"Her mom tells me it's the beginning of those exciting years where she hates us all," McCoy sighed. "So everyone get ready for some mood swings!"
"She'll be fine," Jim said. "Now let's get out the tree skirt so Spock can put it on."
"I beg your pardon?" Spock asked.
"The tree skirt," Jim said, and he let out a sigh of his own. "Seriously, didn't you find that in your reading?"
"Tree skirts were used at the base of the pine tree to collect all the pins and needles that fall while it's out," McCoy explained. "Now that everyone's switched to artificial, they're just decorative. But --"
"But wearing the tree skirt is an old, old tradition," Jim interrupted. "People used to think forest spirits were still in the tree when they were brought inside, so people had to dress up as terrifying or ridiculously as possible to scare them out. This is where the ugly holiday sweater tradition comes from, too."
"I have no ugly holiday sweaters, Jim," Spock said slowly.
"Oh, I've got plenty," McCoy laughed. "Yeah, Jim. Go get the tree skirt, I'll go get our sweaters. Gotta keep the demons away."
As McCoy ran down the hall to the master bedroom, Spock turned to Jim, who was still smirking, but tried to smooth it into an innocent smile when Spock raised his eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"Jim, I apol --"
"You don't have to apologize!" Jim said a little too eagerly. "So you read up on Christmas and let me yammer on about shit you already knew about -- business as usual, right? But there are lots of traditions that haven't been put into the Federation cultural data banks, and you're going to discover them."
"How old are these traditions, Jim?" Spock asked, his eyebrows raised again.
"Now that's unimportant," Jim said. "What's really important is finding that tree skirt and making sure it fits around your hips."
*
"Wow," Joanna said to Spock later. "Your hips really are the perfect width for that tree skirt. And like, you’re really tall, so it’s a good length, too.” Joanna was sitting on the floor in front of the tree, a mug of cider in her hands, and she looked at Spock appreciatively as he modeled the tree skirt for his audience. “Dad, Jim, this a really good outfit!”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Jim said. “Your dad and I aren’t just pretty faces.”
McCoy drank a mug of eggnog at the kitchen table, his eyes glassy and puffy from rubbing tears away when he had seen Spock emerge from his and Jim's room in the tree skirt.
"I am so sorry, Spock," McCoy said, his thumbs running along the rim of his mug. "That I couldn't find any old fashioned petticoats anywhere in the house. I thought Jocelyn might have kept her Lil' Bo Peep costume from years ago and stuffed it into storage with all my stuff."
"You and Mom dressed up?" Joanna asked. "Like, together? As a couple?"
"Sure we did," McCoy replied. "I was the sheep."
"That is so cool," Joanna said. "I want pictures."
"You'll have to pry them out of your mother's cold dead hands, since we probably looked happy in them and you know that's impossible."
Jim sat on the couch examining ornaments for the tree and glanced up at the mention of petticoats, then spent the rest of the time considering Spock, who clasped his hands at the small of his back and looked at Jim expectantly. Jim looked at Spock's face and asked:
"Is this a sexist tradition?" Jim tilted his head a little and added, "Am I sexist for finding Spock in a skirt really kind of amusing?"
"It is not malicious in intent," Spock noted.
"I think I'm more amused at the fact that it's a tree skirt, not just a skirt," Jim said. "It's not the skirt element I'm laughing at --"
"But the tree accessory part," Joanna finished.
"Are all Christmas traditions performed at the expense of newcomers?" Spock asked.
"Well, yeah," McCoy said. "Correction: are all traditions in general designed to include newcomers in on the fun of being a family and hassling them? Then, yes."
"Jo, you better get that eggnog away from your dad," Jim warned. "It's only about four o'clock and he's already admitted Spock is family. Drunk as shit right there."
“Hypocrite!” Joanna said, but no one paid her mind except Spock.
"Take my eggnog and there will be pain," McCoy replied. "Non-replicated magic right here, everyone, and I bought chocolate syrup to surreptitiously pour into Spock's."
"I want chocolate in mine, too," Joanna said. "Also, I think Spock needs more chocolate because his sweater is the ugliest of all of them, Dad. That's so mean."
"I am sure your father chose this sweater because it compliments my coloring and not for any other --"
"I chose it because it's a blue sweater with Christmas monkeys on it, and I find that fucking hilarious, Spock," McCoy replied from inside his mug of eggnog.
“Hypocrite, Dad!” Joanna cried, but McCoy only toasted her with his mug and smiled smugly.
"Well, there is that," Spock said, looking down at the monkeys some more.
*
Spock woke the next morning, Christmas Eve, to an empty and cold bed, indicating Jim had already been up for some time. His next question re: Jim's location was answered when there was a small cracking sound from the kitchen and McCoy's deep laughter and swearing floating down the hall.
Spock also sighed deeply when he felt the crook in his neck due to sleeping strangely with the antler headband still on -- and he would have certainly cheated or forfeited had Jim not slid into bed last night and insisted on a silent blowjob with the antlers on, an event that certainly entered itself as one of the more surreal experiences in his life.
He emerged from the guest bedroom and wandered down into the kitchen, where Jim (antlers still on) was mopping something from the floor and laughing while McCoy and Joanna sorted through… eggs. At least two dozen of them, Spock counted.
"Oh, you're awake!" Joanna said, her head whipping around to look at him and the antlers moving slightly with her movement. "Good morning!"
"Morning, Spock. Sorry if we woke you -- you always wake up this late?" McCoy asked. McCoy had never, ever suggested himself to be what Terrans coloquially referred to as a “morning person”, but now, this morning, McCoy seemed.. happier, certainly consistently happier than Spock had ever seen him on board the ship (and therefore ever, period), and looked excited as he greeted Spock with antlers drooping slightly into his face due to sleeping on them all night.
"Jim kept me up," Spock said slowly, aware he was still slightly groggy and very intently focused on Jim kneeling on the floor with a towel, his antlers moving as he scrubbed. "Why do we have so many eggs?" Spock asked the floor.
"Jim reminded us of the sacred holiday of Happy Kisseggmas," Joanna informed him.
"I was woken from an unusually deep sleep cycle and find I can barely pronounce your portmanteau," Spock replied. "Please explain this mysterious newly discovered tradition."
"Well," Jim said from the floor, and Spock sat on a tall stool at the kitchen island to continue the awakening process. "You know how the spring holiday of Easter has a rabbit and chocolate and stuff?"
"I have been vaguely acquainted with that holiday, yes," Spock said.
"Well," Jim began. "Here on Earth, after First Contact, when Earth made the shift from fierce religious sectarianism to a more global culture, the rabbit kind of got shoved into every holiday. So now there's eggs at Christmas, like for Merry Kisseggmas."
"And how does it work?" Spock asked. "How many eggs will I be forced to eat this holiday season? I do not even like eggs."
"That's up to you," Joanna chimed in as she lined eggs up in halved cartons, one half of a carton for each of them. "The tradition goes that when someone tells you 'Merry Christmas', you return the sentiment and either kiss them or give them an egg."
"And what is the purpose of the egg? Or the kissing?" Spock asked.
"The kissing's your run-of-the-mill tactile human affection," McCoy said. "The eggs, well. Gift-giving. I can't kiss you but I will give you this egg. Maybe harkening back to wanting to do something nice for someone. Also, when hard-boiled? Delicious."
"Every day," Spock informed them, "I am more and more surprised that your species did not have widespread plague more often than it did when so many of your traditions revolve around --"
"Spock, they can be kisses on the cheek," McCoy sighed. "If you feel like turning this into a game of oral spelunking with Jim, that's your business."
"I can't remember," Jim said as he joined them at the kitchen island on a stool next to Spock. "Does anyone win Merry Kisseggmas or is it just for love of kissing and eggs?"
"Depends on how you feel about eggs and kissing, I think," Joanna said. "I mean, I want lots of eggs so I can boil them and dye them and then eat them."
"And if I do not want to be kissed by anyone but my spouse?" Spock asked with a careful look to McCoy.
"Then initiate," Jim realized. "There we go, it has to be mutual. If someone initiates with a kiss, you have to return that; if someone --"
"Merry Christmas to you, McCoys," Spock interrupted as he grabbed two eggs from Joanna and placed them both in front of her and her father.
"Oh, this is going to be amazing," Joanna said. "I'm so sorry, Spock, but you're never going to sleep again while you're here. Also, Mer --"
"Merry Christmas, Joanna," Spock repeated as he handed over another egg. Jim laughed and kissed Spock until McCoy sighed and grumbled something about losing his appetite.
*
The hour of 1 PM to 2 PM on Christmas Eve was the most hectic of Spock’s life as he assisted with Christmas Eve lunch, anticipated the various greetings being chimed in his ears (particularly when Joanna realized she could say ‘Merry’, get an egg from Spock, and then say, ‘had a little lamb’, so he was quickly left without eggs), and dodged kisses from McCoy, Joanna, and eventually even Jim, who was taking a turn for the obscene just to make Spock blush harder.
“No one,” Spock announced, “Is getting a single sandwich. I am eating all the sandwiches, and should anyone like one, it will cost you two eggs.”
“Steep,” Jim commented. “I don’t care, though, I like kissing you, and I don’t mind kissing them.”
“Wow, thanks,” McCoy commented automatically as he eyed the sandwich platter Spock had abducted and taken to the living room couch.
“Aw, Bones, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jim said, and then he clapped and looked at Spock. “Hey. I kiss Bones, you give me half a sandwich.”
“You are selling your sexual integrity for half a sandwich, Jim -- I hope you realize this,” Spock said carefully.
“Dad, I’ll make you a sandwich if you kiss Jim,” Joanna said as she rushed into the living room and sat at Spock’s feet. “I’ll make you like, I don’t know, a meatloaf. I’ll make anything. Dad, I’ll build you a robot.”
“Hold out for... actually, I don’t think you can get better from an 11-year-old than a robot,” Jim considered. “Robots are awesome. Time to kiss me if you want a robot!”
“Do you have the parts to build a robot?” Joanna whispered to Spock. “Also, do you know how to build a robot?”
Spock was about to reply, but then looked up so he could watch McCoy enter the living room and stand in front of Jim, who put one hand on McCoy’s hip and pointed to Spock. “Half a sandwich for every second we kiss.”
“Dad, don’t be too gross,” Joanna whined.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” McCoy asked, stopping his gradual leaning in towards Jim. “Too gross? Know what, all of you are being a little too --”
And Jim, with that... Jimness of his, grabbed McCoy’s jaw, turned his face, and pressed their lips together until McCoy floundered and pulled away.
“No, you can’t just --”
“That was three seconds,” Spock interrupted, “Which means one and a half sandwiches for all of you. Thank you for playing. I will now eat all the sandwiches.”
“Nope, more sandwiches,” McCoy announced. “Merry Christmas, Jim -- cover your eyes, Jo.”
“What why -- ew Dad,” Joanna said as she folded an antler down to cover her eyes from her father grabbing Jim by the belt loops and kissing him hard, a real kiss that had Spock tightening his hold on the edges of the serving tray as he stared.
“Is it over yet?” Joanna asked. “Didn’t anyone tell my dad parents making out is gross?”
“It is not over yet,” Spock commented curtly. “Twelve seconds,” he added, hoping to break them apart. “You have run out of sandwich halves to win.”
“I’ve run out of barf,” Joanna added, still hiding behind an antler. “Can I look yet?”
“No. Jim holds the record on the ship for holding his breath the longest underwater.”
“Where’s my dad on that list?” Joanna asked.
“High enough that I am beginning to question how they each cultivated that particular skill,” Spock replied.
Jim breaks the kiss and he and McCoy laugh and gasp, then look to Spock expectantly.
“Thirty-two seconds,” Spock said.
“Can I look yet?” Joanna asked. “Dad, I’m gonna look.”
“Yeah, Jo, the world is safe from your dad’s mouth,” Jim said as he sauntered over to Spock’s spot on the couch, flopped down next to him, and took a sandwich off the platter. “Merry Christmas, Spock?” he asked, his mouth full of food. “Kiss me?”
“Can I say ‘ew’?” McCoy asked as he walked over and grabbed a half sandwich. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Think of the children.”
“I’m thinking of sandwiches,” Joanna said.
“And thanks for your support back there, kid,” McCoy said. “It’s your job to automatically assure your parents that they’re the best at everything.”
“Parents don’t kiss, ugh, that’s so gross,” Joanna shuddered. “I was made in an artificial gestation unit, not as a result of kissing and other -- cheater!!” For her patience, Joanna was rewarded with McCoy gently yanking the antler headband off her head and letting it topple to the floor.
“Cheater!!” Joanna laughed. “I don’t -- so not fair! Come on! Someone had to have seen that!”
“I apologize,” Spock said. “Jim had finished chewing and... occupied my attention until just now.”
“So not fair,” Joanna whined. “Like women haven’t been oppressed enough and now I have to be someone’s serf for Christmas! Dad!”
“It’s character building,” he assured her. “Now come on, grab some more sandwich and let’s go watch a movie.”
When they were alone, Spock looked over at Jim, who was still chewing but managed to give him a smug grin all the same. “Are we having fun or are we having fun?”
“You should stop speaking with your mouth full,” Spock commented. “I can see the particles flying out of your mouth.”
“Me and Bones didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did we?” Jim asked as he moved along the couch, his head closer to Spock’s lap every second. “Because I think it should have.”
“Are you done eating?” Spock asked. “I would like us to return to our room so that I may reclaim every inch of your skin, if you are amenable to such a suggestion.”
“Um.” Jim took another bite of his sandwich and added, “So you like, said that. Out loud.”
“Merry Christmas, Jim,” Spock replied. “Watching you engage in a highly sexualized, though not actually sexual, kiss with another man has inspired me to feats of verbal communication you, apparently, never thought possible.”
Jim’s mouth hung open and Spock tucked it closed with one finger, but then it just fell open again.
“Talk dirty to me and I will never, ever ask for anything ever again, ever, really seriously ever,” Jim said.
“Are you quite done with eating, then?”
Jim put the rest of his sandwich on the tray and rushed from the couch to their room. Spock set the tray aside and followed Jim, and managed to lightly pick the antlers off the top of his head, which Jim didn’t notice until they had already tumbled off and hit his back. Jim stopped in the hall and looked around, and then glared at Spock.
“You know what,” Jim said, “They would have poked you in the eye anyway, so it’s for the best and I don’t even care. I don’t! I really don’t!”
“I can see how much you care eating away at you like a bacteria,” Spock said, trying not to smile, but Jim caught that anyway and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth where the smile was lurking.
“Come on!” Joanna cried suddenly, and Jim and Spock backed away from each other. “If I knew it was a couples’ retreat, I would have invited my boyfriend!”
“You’re eleven, what -- you know what? Never mind,” Jim said. “We’ll take it to our room.”
“Thank you,” she sighed. “Dinner’s at six. Me and Dad are cooking.”
Spock tugged on Jim’s cuff to bring him into their room, but Jim leaned out again and yelled down the hall and up the stairs, “And stop letting her watch The Golden Girls! She’s eleven, what the hell does she know about couples’ retreats?”
“It’s classic television!” McCoy shouted back. “Bring cookies, Jo!”
“There’s a marathon,” Joanna explained as she grabbed more cookies and retreated back to the bedroom.
“Have you ever seen this show?” Jim asked Spock. “It’s --”
“Shut up,” Spock said as he dragged Jim inside and closed the door.
*
After dinner, McCoy declared an antler headband showdown, as it was just him and Spock left and, clearly, he felt threatened.
“We wrestle,” McCoy said as they stood in the middle of the living room, “And then --”
“REVENGE!” Joanna cried as she jumped up and snatched the headband off her father’s head. “Spock is Christmas King!”
“Traitors don’t get dessert!” McCoy yelled.
“I will grant you asylum,” Spock assured her. “In a spirit of good will, which I am informed is also the spirit of Christmas, my Prince Consort and I will serve dessert to you losers.”
“This is humiliating,” McCoy sighs. “Jocelyn and I once kept them on for a week and now --”
“Oh wow can we just eat our pudding and watch that clay reindeer be hassled and outcast by his emotionally abusive dad already!” Joanna asked.
“Should I be worried that’s your favorite traditional cartoon special?” McCoy asked.
“I like reindeer?” she replied.
Spock looked at Jim as they prepared the dessert and serving dishes, exchanging a smirk as they listened to them bicker.
“That’s the real language of love,” Jim said. “Nonstop bitching and complaining.”
“Apparently,” Spock replied. “Have I told you recently that you are in need of a haircut because it resembles badly maintained plant life?”
“It’s not supposed to be true,” Jim sighed. “But it’s nice of you to make the effort.”
“I will endeavor to do better during my reign as Christmas king,” Spock said.
“And the rest of our lives,” Jim said. “Pudding!”
*
Spock woke up in the middle of the night, Christmas morning, to Jim slipping out from beneath his arm. “Jim?”
“Get back to sleep,” Jim whispered.
“Where are you going?”
“Last Christmas tradition,” Jim said. “Mom and Dad get up in the middle of the night and play Santa, sneaking presents under the tree and eating the cookies left for Santa.”
“Can I come?” Spock asked, vaguely aware he was half-asleep and sounded too childlike, something that was confirmed by Jim grinning brightly in the darkness and leaning in to kiss Spock on the forehead. “But why are you the mother?” Spock asked as Jim edged away.
“Go back to sleep.”
*
Spoke woke up what felt like a short time later to find Jim under his arm again and fervent knocking at the door to the guest room.
“What is it?” Jim called out, pulling the blankets and Spock’s arm tighter around him.
“Come on, get up, I want some presents,” Joanna whined. “Get up and let’s open some presents.”
“Are there presents as well?” Spock asked the back of Jim’s neck, impressed on some level with his grasp of irony after such frequently interrupted sleep. “This has been exhausting holiday. I am not sure I want additional surprises.”
“Come on, come on, she can’t open presents until everyone is there,” Jim sighed.
They left their room and entered the living room, where Joanna was already sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, her face buried in her folded arms and her stocking on the table, condoms littered all over it.
“This is so embarrassing,” she sobbed. Spock looked at McCoy, who was watching her and looked... many things, mostly annoyed and pained, simultaneously.
“She didn’t like the practical aspect of our gifts,” McCoy explained to Jim.
“What? I thought that was the best part!” Jim said as he plopped down next to her at the low table.
“It’s just -- ugh, why do you all have to be like this?!” she cried. “Can’t you just be normal?”
“Normal?” McCoy asked. “You mean not tell you jack shit and let some boy control your life because you were too ‘embarrassed’ to learn how to buy and use a condom?”
“Also, remember,” Jim added, “Families are bound together by embarrassment, and we thought this was really funny and useful.”
“So help me, Joanna McCoy, you are going to be a responsible adult while I have a say in it,” McCoy warned her.
“Oh, responsible like leaving the planet for five years at a time?” she spat back as she wiped her eyes.
“Hey now,” Jim began.
“Responsible so when that happens you can take care of your damn self,” McCoy replied.
Spock swallowed thickly and tugged at Jim to return to their room for a while longer, and Jim finally did when McCoy nudged him aside to sit next to Joanna on the floor and hug her tightly until she hugged him back.
*
Joanna invited them back to the living room a while later, at which point Spock announced, “The Christmas King requires cookies for breakfast, if you please.”
“The lone girl in the house isn’t getting them for you, sorry,” Joanna said as she sorted the presents into their respective piles. “I declare myself Prime Minister and too good to --”
“Blah blah blah, I want presents,” Jim said as he sat down in front of the tree. “Which pile’s mine? I want.”
“Wait a second,” Joanna asked as she opened her third box of clothing. “Did we all get each other clothes?”
“I believe so,” Spock said as he examined the pair of jeans that were technically his size, but still looked far too constricting to be comfortable in any sense of the word.
“I got everyone clothes,” Jim said as he put on every hat, sweater, jacket, and sock he received. “Clothes can come with you where ever you go. And, you know, your PADD, but we have those already, so.” Spock watched him glance to McCoy, both of them in their stupid animal-themed earflap hats (a tiger for McCoy, a rooster for Jim).
“That’s fucking sad, guys,” Joanna said as she pulled out her own hat (an owl).
“Language!” McCoy and Jim yelled.
“Hypocrites,” Spock added as he took his similarly-shaped box and opened it. “What animal is this?”
“A deer,” Jim said.
“A reindeer?”
“Oh. I wasn’t even thinking of that. No, just a regular deer.”
“A female deer, judging from the lack of antlers,” Spock said.
“Or one at the end of their mating season when the antlers fall off,” Joanna pointed out.
“Or,” Jim began, “It’s a fucking hat and the antlers aren’t pictured because it’s a two-dimensional representation of a deer.”
“But your logic is flawed,” Spock said. “These tiny flaps that would sit on the crown of my head are supposed to represent eyes -- also completely inaccurate according to the photos I have seen of Terran animals in the Cervidae family -- and by that logic, there should also be antlers represented in a --”
“Christmas is over, I’m going back to sleep,” Jim declared, but only got to plant his hand down on the floor before Spock wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist and pulled Jim to him again.
“Thank you,” he muttered against the shell of Jim’s ear.
“You also have big deer eyes -- I was going for that mostly,” Jim admitted as he pressed back against Spock.
“But, again, they are not protruding from the top of my head --”
“Let me go,” Jim whined. “I don’t want to be here in the land of free-falling disbelief.”
“I’m going to go over here where it’s less creepy,” Joanna said as she edged towards her father. “At least he’s a creep I can handle.”
“Now how did I ever,” McCoy said as he hugged her tightly in a sweet, familial headlock, “Ever end up with this darling little angel, this sweeter than artificial chemical sweetener sweet girl, this --”
“Gonna puke, I promise,” she laughed.
“Come on, you can take the antlers off now,” Jim said as he reached back and slipped them off Spock’s head. “Now it’s time for the traditional Christmas earflap hat, and you have to wear this one until the new year.”
“You made that up.”
“Do you care?”
“Not particularly.”