Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Captain’s log. Star date 2817.5. The Enterprise is stationed at Starbase 11 for shore leave. Around this time on Earth, it will be Christmas and many families will be celebrating that wonderful holiday. Maybe feeling homesick or nostalgic, I have decided to throw a Christmas Party at the end of our break with the bridge crew. Although some of the members don’t celebrate the holiday, it won’t hurt to get together and celebrate the first year of our five-year mission.”

McCoy ran a hand down his face. His eyes scanned his PADD screen again as he re-read Jim’s email about the bridge crew holiday party that would be happening at the end of shore leave. He didn’t mind parties, he actually found them enjoyable. Drinks, appetizers, and good fellowship at the party excited him. But no, what caught his attention and had caused him to groan inwardly—and debate declining the invitation—was the second email associated with the first. See, the captain wanted to play a game most people on Earth knew to be called “Secret Santa,” and McCoy was to be Mr. Spock’s Secret Santa.

What on God’s green Earth was he supposed to get that green-blooded Vulcan? Any idea that McCoy considered was replaced with the image of Spock raising his eyebrow slightly and stating that the gift he had received was “illogical.” What use would a Vulcan have for gifts, anyway?

McCoy shot Kirk a quick message:

“Spock, Jim? Really? Are Vulcans even capable of accepting presents?”

He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. From outside his office, he heard Nurse Chapel finalizing the stock of medical equipment in Sickbay. He had seen her name on the main email list and wondered who she would find a gift for. Somebody far easier than Spock, that was for sure. 

A small ping indicated that Kirk had replied to his message.

“Don’t blame me, blame the randomizer. Chin up, Bones, you’ll think of something.”

McCoy sat his PADD on his desk. He would think of something, huh? But what would be practical enough for a Vulcan to accept and not just politely throw away in the privacy of his room later?

A knock on the wall drew his attention to Chapel who crossed to him.

“I’ve finished my last few tasks and I’m heading down to the transporter room,” she informed him. When he gave her a nod of acknowledgment, she added, “Did you get the captain’s email about the Christmas Party?”

“I did.” McCoy’s face soured and she took notice.

“Who’d you get?”

“Take a guess,” he answered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

She paused, thinking. Studying his tired, grumpy face she couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t tell me, Mr. Spock?”

“The one and only,” McCoy confirmed, his eyebrows arching even more exaggeratedly to convey his sarcastic excitement.

She laughed. “There’ll be plenty of time on Starbase 11 to find something for him, I’m sure.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced.

“At least, that’s what I tell myself,” Chapel added. “I’ve got Kirk. I feel like we’re almost in the same boat.”

McCoy’s lip quirked into a smile. Jim was a well-known womanizer amongst the crew, and if the women didn’t want him pining after them they steered clear from giving the captain any indication of interest. But seeing as this was a Christmas party he didn’t think Jim would fall for Christine. He could be wrong. There could be alcohol and mistletoe. And on the off chance something did happen, McCoy would have to make sure to chase Jim out of Medbay if he came poking around for his head nurse. He liked his staff performing without any distractions.

“Will you be going to the transporter room soon?” Chapel asked him.

His attention was drawn back to her. “Hm? Oh, yes. I’ve just a few documents to get through and then I’ll be on my way.”

Chapel frowned, looking at the CMO like she didn’t quite believe him.

He waved a hand at her in a shooing motion. “I swear, Christine, I’ll be there once I finish.” She set her hand on her hip like she was about to argue, so he quickly added, “Got to look for something for that blasted Vulcan, don’t I?”

Chapel tipped her head, a smile crossing her lips before finally shaking her head. “I’ll see you later. Don’t work too late.”

And with that, McCoy was left alone in his office, his PADD highlighting the tired features of his face in a blue-ish haze. With a yawn, he picked it up again and scrolled through the medical files he had been looking at before Kirk had interrupted him with his invite.

Spock was making a B-line straight toward the captain’s quarters. He had received the email about the holiday party and although there were no such celebrations similar to it on Vulcan Spock knew it would be beneficial for him to be a part of the activity as comradery amongst humans was important to them. However, he did have questions that Jim would have to explain as he was unfamiliar with the gift-giving game the captain wanted them to play. The most he determined from it was that the six of them on the bridge plus the two senior medical staff were chosen at random to give each other gifts.

 Kirk welcomed Spock in once he announced himself, and the Vulcan stood with his hands gently clasped behind his back as he watched Kirk throw a jacket over his everyday clothes.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?” 

He got straight to the point. “I received your email detailing the end-of-the-year celebration after shore leave and had a query about the rules of ‘Secret Santa.’ Would it not be more logical to approach the person I am required to get a gift for and request an itemized list of what they desire?”

“Well then, that person would know you are their Secret Santa, and that defeats the purpose of secret , now doesn’t it?” Kirk replied, shouldering a bag as he gestured for his friend to follow him out of his quarters and toward the transporter room.

“That is illogical,” Spock replied. “If the person I am randomly to give a gift to is someone whose likes and dislikes I am unfamiliar with— How will I be sure I have given them the correct gift?”

“That’s the fun of it,” Kirk replied, “You get to see if your guess is right.”

Spock’s brow furrowed just the slightest, displeased at the captain’s response. He didn’t like guessing. There were too many variables and unknowns to it. Throw humans into the mix, with their emotional complexities, and the likelihood of his guess being appropriate would be 0.001%.

“It also shows how much you know the person,” Kirk continued, excitement in his steps making their stroll down the halls of the Enterprise into a power walk. “Make it special by having a little meaning behind it, if you want.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow. Giving gifts on Vulcan wasn’t a common practice outside the family. What gifts were given were practical and useful items that adolescents would receive; but at a certain age, it was no longer necessary. The only other time gifts were given was if a loved one passed away, and the family would give items that the departed owned as mementos to each other. Gifts were not required to be given among friends.

“If it bothers you that much, Spock, why don’t you ask around to see what your person might like?” Jim suggested after the pause lasted for twenty-nine footsteps. “Who’ve you got?”

“I am to find something suitable for Doctor McCoy.” 

Jim sucked air through his teeth, pausing in his step to glance at his friend. “McCoy, huh? I’ve known him for a long while and I still have a hard time coming up with something for his birthday.”

“Your lack of an idea gives me little assurance I will find an appropriate gift for the doctor,” Spock replied dryly.

There were only two people out of the eight that Spock had limited data on what to get for; Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel. But there was no reason to theorize something for the head nurse; he only had to think of one thing for the doctor. And it was proving to be difficult.

“If I had Bones, I would probably get him a drink and a nap,” Jim mused, then as an afterthought, “He’d probably skip the nap, though. But it would be a good joke.” He chuckled.

“A drink?”

“Something like Saurian Brandy. We enjoy the occasional glass from time to time.”

That worked between Dr. McCoy and the captain, but not with him. Spock always refused when alcohol was offered his way and McCoy would find it ironic if the Vulcan gave him brandy and yet did not indulge in it with him. The doctor was a social person, whether he admitted it or not, and Spock could do better.

They reached the transporter room and Kirk turned to face him. “Well, I’m heading down to the Starbase to enjoy my time off. If you do ask anyone else for ideas for the doctor, just make sure he isn’t in the same area or you’ll make him suspicious. Trust me, it’ll be more fun if he doesn’t know.” Kirk winked at him. “See you around, Spock.”

The Vulcan watched as the captain vaporized in a glitter of orange speckles. Fun was a human term that meant some sort of activity that was both absurd in action and illogical in thought. It was something Vulcans did not partake in, and Spock, for one, was skeptical of Kirk’s comment.

Spock raised his eyebrow for the second time that day. He concluded that he would have to take the captain's advice and collect more information to find a suitable gift for the doctor.

The Starbase had many recreational areas and shopping districts in it, for which McCoy was thankful. He had accompanied Kirk and Scotty to the artificial lakeside environment in the corner of the city district. The M-11 planet was devoid of any sort of vegetation so the Starbase had made accommodations for the officers who came to have their vacation time here. As the three of them had moved from one activity to the next, he kept his eye on the store windows, looking for something a Vulcan might want. But eventually, the three of them wound up at the lake.

Kirk and Scotty were skipping stones, seeing who could get the furthest. McCoy stood behind them, watching, his hands buried in his bomber jacket. Upon skipping five in a row, Scotty clapped Jim on the back in congratulations.

“That’s it! Ye beat my score. I don’t think I kin get more than that.” Scott grinned.

McCoy didn’t think the engineer could ever be a sore loser. He seemed to have a cheery disposition about him at all times. 

“It’s all in the wrist,” Jim replied, making the motion with an invisible stone. “And who knows, maybe the good doctor can beat my score. Want to give it a try, Bones?”

The captain looked cheekily back at McCoy. In response, the doctor scowled at him and pushed his shoulders up against the chill of the breeze.

“My fingers will fall off before I even find a stone flat enough,” he informed them. “Who’s idea was it to make the wind in here so damn cold anyway?”

His friends laughed, and Kirk shrugged. “They’re simulating fall according to this planet’s calendar year.”

“If I were in charge I’d keep every artificial nature environment a nice seventy-five degrees,” McCoy grumbled. 

Kirk sifted through the stones on the beach until he found a smooth, flat one. He handed it over to the doctor who reluctantly took it. With encouragement from the two officers, McCoy sighed and approached the edge of the water.

“Remember, it’s all in the flick of the wrist,” Jim said, giving the example again.

McCoy leaned into it, making the motion a few times before letting the stone loose. It hit the water with a sad plunk and sank. With a huff, he thrust his hands back into his pockets.

“Never mind that. ‘Twas a good of a go,” Scott offered. 

“Next time, let’s just go to the bar like we normally do.”

“Sure, sure,” Jim patted the doctor on the back, “Next time we’ll do what you want.”

McCoy resisted an eye-roll. Next time Jim would still somehow turn the trip into something he enjoyed. Having a charismatic tongue helped not only in diplomacy but also with leading any situation in the direction he wanted.

“You two can keep tossing stones, I’m heading back to my place to enjoy reading some new medical publications,” he begrudgingly stated, “I’ve had enough of this cold weather.”

“Alright, Bones,” Jim gave him a sympathetic smile. “We’ll ping you if we head to the M-11 Starbase Club for drinks.”

McCoy nodded and headed out as the other two began skipping stones again. The weather was dampening his mood and making him more irritable than usual. Normally, the others didn’t mind, but they were on shore leave and he didn’t want to ruin their time with his petulance.

Crossing back to the living quarters, McCoy spotted Spock making his way toward the shopping district across the street. He had on a black turtle-neck sweater, a long, thin coat, and casual pants. He knew, as a Vuclan, Spock was more sensitive to the cold—his biology being more adapted to his planet’s extreme heat—and the doctor wondered how he was doing in this weather. A flicker of an idea crossed McCoy’s mind and he decided to forgo his medical readings in favor of searching out Uhura and Chapel. He was going to need their assistance if he was going to do anything with this plan he was formulating.

Spock entered the shopping district. Perusing the items for sale, he did not find anything that fit what the chief medical officer might desire. Shop by shop he methodically went. He didn’t overlook a single section that a store offered and still came up empty-handed. Eventually, he stepped into a liquor store much to his distaste. But he had to cross off every option. Perhaps there would be a certain brand or beverage that the doctor hadn’t tried yet hiding somewhere within these walls.

As he entered, he noticed Mr. Sulu looking at a bottle of brandy. He was turning it over when Spock approached him.

“Mr. Sulu,” he greeted.

The helmsman looked up, surprised to see that the first officer had even stepped foot in this store. “Mr. Spock, I didn’t think you fancied the spirits.”

“You are correct,” Spock confirmed. “I am not here for myself, I am merely looking for something for Doctor McCoy.”

“Doctor McCoy?” Sulu asked, incredulous. Thankfully, he put it together quickly with a grin. There was a slight tremor in his voice, that Spock found curious, as he stated, “You’re his Secret Santa.”

Spock nodded. “I am having trouble finding something suitable for him. Although I am reluctant to find something here.”

Sulu composed himself, pulling his grin into a more thoughtful expression. “I would look at medical books. A book of remedies from Ferenginar, maybe?”

“Noted. I will conduct my search elsewhere.” Spock turned and headed out of the liquor store and back into the brisk air of the domed Starbase. Although the breeze was not unbearable, Spock did wish for the warmth of his quarters on the ship but pushed away the feeling as it was illogical to complain about something out of his control.

He made his way toward the only bookstore in the district. It was located two blocks down and tucked neatly between a convenience store and a boutique. As Spock steadily made his way toward it, he noticed a sign in Vulcan writing across the street and paused. He read the sign easily, then read the Standard lettering beneath it stating: Red Sand Massage. He hadn’t been expecting a Vulcan shop on the Starbase and made a mental note to come back and converse with the store owner. He was curious as to what had brought one of his people out to this quadrant of the galaxy. 

Spock continued down the block until he reached the bookstore. He curled his fingers around the door handle when it was suddenly thrust toward him and he was forced to step back or else get hit in the face by the frame. The young ensign who burst through looked up with shock and horror at almost flattening the first officer’s face.

“Mr. Spock! I did not see you!” 

Spock took a few more steps back and placed a firm hand on the doorframe to keep it still. “Mr. Chekov, may I suggest you look up at where you are going instead of down. You will cause less injury to yourself and others that way.”

“I know. Sorry, sir.” The officer ducked his head in apology.

“There is no need. May I inquire as to what is causing you so much distraction that you cannot look at where you are going?” 

“I’ve been beside myself looking for a gift for the party,” Chekov admitted. “I can’t think of anything she might like!”

It seemed the ensign had one of the two women to acquire a gift for. He decided it would be best not to test Chekov’s knowledge on what Dr. McCoy might want as he was struggling with what to get for either Chapel or Uhura himself.

“Indeed.”

The ensign ran a hand through his hair and gave another apologetic look. “I’ll slow down and look where I’m going, Mr. Spock.”

“Good. After all, we have three days left until the end of shore leave to find something. There is no need to rush.”

Chekov nodded, stepping around the Vulcan and heading to the next shop. Spock searched the isles of books, but the small store’s only selection of medical books was for novices, and he did not think McCoy would have any use for them. He returned to the streets with an impatience he did not show and idly stood by a bakery window thinking of where to go next.

A burst of laughter caught his attention and Spock observed Lieutenant Uhura, Nurse Chapel, and Dr. McCoy walking down the street—two of them with bags hanging from their arms. He had yet to ask Uhura and Chapel for recommendations as to what to get the doctor but as the man was there with them he could not. Not unless he managed to get them separated somehow.

“Mr. Spock!” Dr. McCoy greeted, waving a hand clutching a bag in his direction. “Fancy seeing you here. Browsing the shops, are we?”

“I am merely taking a walk, Doctor,” Spock replied, he did not want to give McCoy any indication that he was looking for a gift for him. “I see you are having success with the stores here.” He indicated his head towards their bags.

It was the slightest movement, but Spock noticed the doctor’s eyes flicker down to his bag before casually tucking his hands—and bag—behind his back.

“That’s right,” Chapel said before anyone else could, “Uhura and Dr. McCoy were helping me find some new clothes for my wardrobe and he offered to help carry some of my bags.”

“I offered to carry all of them but she wouldn’t have it.” McCoy shrugged, tucking his hands under his arms as a brisk breeze blew down the street. “Spock, I don’t know how you keep yourself from shivering. How can you stand this cold?”

Ever the doctor even on his time off. 

“It is nothing I cannot handle,” Spock informed him.

“Of course not,” McCoy muttered. “Blasted Vulcan mind barriers. Don’t know why I even bothered asking…”

“Perhaps you would benefit from the practice of my ‘mind barriers’ if you are finding the weather unpleasant, Doctor,” Spock stated, an eyebrow arching in humor.

McCoy frowned.

“Have you done your holiday party shopping, Mr. Spock?” Uhura asked changing topics so the two wouldn’t start a full-blown argument. 

“I have not,” Spock replied.

The three turned curious eyes toward him and he knew they would be wondering who his giftee was. He, however, did not elaborate further, instead, directing the question back at them. They shuffled and shrugged their shoulders in turn.

“We’ve got three days left. There’s no rush,” McCoy said, his stance relaxing into his usual curved slouch.

Spock nodded. As the conversation petered out, he was beginning to think he wouldn’t find a way to separate the doctor from the other two. But it seemed Chapel would help him unknowingly in that aspect as she hesitantly asked, “Mr. Spock, would you mind helping me out with something?”

“Certainly.”

She looked between McCoy and Uhura, saying, “You two go on ahead, I’ll catch up later.”

The two nodded and began walking when Spock cut them off.

“Doctor, you still have Nurse Chapel’s bag. Perhaps it would be wise to give it to her now so she does not forget to retrieve it later.”

McCoy shared a look that Spock didn’t quite understand with Chapel.

“I won’t forget to grab it from him,” she assured.

“Never mind, Christine.” McCoy handed the bag to her. “Would hate to have it swallowed up in my room somewhere where you won’t get it back…”

Chapel smiled. “Thank you.”

Uhura hooked her arm through McCoy’s and began dragging him away. “Let’s head into that plant shop just up the way.” She gave them a wave as they took off. “We’ll see you later, Christine.”

Spock turned his attention back to the nurse.

Once the other two were properly out of earshot, Chapel asked, “I’m Captain Kirk’s Secret Santa and I am wracking my brain for an idea of what to get him. I asked Dr. McCoy and he gave me suggestions, but I was wondering if you might have an idea I could also take into account?”

Spock thought for a moment. “The captain does like classic Terran literature, especially those whose subject material involves ships and their fearless captains. It would also be my understanding that he may enjoy a classic model of a Terran ship such as the USS Constitution or the USS Enterprise CV-6.” Seeing Chapel think over his suggestion, Spock took the opportunity to ask, “Nurse Chapel, I would like to ask you what Dr. McCoy might like as a gift as I am his Secret Santa.”

She blinked, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Are you?”

“I am.”

She placed a finger to her chin. “Well, oftentimes he is complaining about the amount of work we have or that he has a backache. Maybe a handheld massaging tool?”

Spock nodded, thoughts formulating and connecting in his head.

“Did that help?” Chapel asked.

“Indeed.”

McCoy leaned against the wall next to the confectionary table, a glass of mint julep grasped gently in his left hand. There were other beverage options, but the julep was an old favorite of his.

It was the day of the Christmas party, and McCoy was casually watching the members of the alpha bridge crew enter the small event room the captain had rented. The previous day was the entire Enterprise crew's day to celebrate the holiday for those who chose to, and he had gone for a while to the larger event hall to socialize for a few hours. He had taken notice that Spock had not joined the celebration, but as he did not celebrate the Terran holiday and rowdy humans could be a little much for Vulcan stoicism, McCoy understood why he chose to skip out.

Now here he was, in the small party room with nervous energy rolling in his gut that he tried to squash down with the julep in his hand. All seven members had arrived with gift bags and boxes in tow. All except Mr. Spock, who had entered the room with hands clasped behind his back and an even expression on his face as he surveyed the pile of presents on the table and did not add his own. McCoy felt a little sorry for the person who would be getting a present from Spock if Spock had even gotten anything at all.

McCoy swished his drink around as he watched the first officer cross over to the table he was standing near and politely take a few finger foods onto a paper plate.

“Good evening, Mr. Spock,” McCoy said when the Vulcan neared.

“Doctor McCoy.”

“I’m curious what your thoughts are on our Terran celebration. It’s not something you typically do on Vulcan, I assume?”

“Indeed. This activity will be enlightening as it is a custom we do not indulge in,” Spock replied.

“Did Jim explain to you how we celebrate Christmas, then?” McCoy asked, trying to point out that Spock had been the only one to not have brought a gift with him.

Spock’s dark eyes calmly met his. There was no indication of what he was thinking hidden anywhere within them; something that annoyed the doctor to no end. 

“I have been made aware of how you perform your customs, Doctor. It was not so far removed from my understanding that the concept was outside my grasp. Gifts on Vulcan are given during select times, much like in your culture. Although, I do find it interesting that you humans will go out of your way to give gifts outside of your holidays. No doubt a result of your human emotion.”

McCoy scowled and was about to think up a smart retort when Kirk tapped a fork against his glass.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he waited until he got everyone’s attention—McCoy and Spock made their way to the circle of chairs that everyone else had settled in. “I want to thank you all for being able to make it here and for going along with my little holiday cheer. Now, before we get too comfortable in our seats, I thought we should begin our Secret Santa gift exchange. Since I am your senior officer and captain, it’s only fitting that I go first.” He gave such a smile that if anyone had arguments against his proposal they decided it wasn’t worth the fight.

Kirk almost skipped to the gift table in his excitement and picked up a thin square that was wrapped in colorful green and red stripes. A gold ribbon with a bow was securely attached to one corner. He returned to the group and slowly—savoring the moment of being the center of everyone’s attention—walked over to Uhura and handed her the gift.

The Lieutenant’s face lit up in surprise as she took it, opening it to reveal an old Terran album of Ella Fitzgerald. She was delighted. McCoy watched her gush over the album with a warm smile on his face. He loved seeing people happy and nothing made people happier than receiving a thoughtful gift. 

It was Uhura’s turn. She took a brown paper bag by the handles and carefully brought it over to Sulu. From the bag, the helmsman revealed potted roses with gold stems and leaves. 

“A Chameleon Rose!” He exclaimed, and the flower’s petals shimmered into a bright teal before warming into a yellow. “They’re beautiful, Nyota.”

The communication officer’s face brightened with a smile upon Sulu’s thanks. Then, Sulu gave Scotty a gift of—predictably—scotch. The engineer was thrilled nevertheless and his gift to Ensign Checkov was in the same vein when he gave him a bottle of Vodka. McCoy watched with amusement as the two promised to have drinks with each other later, eager to see who could outlast the other.

Checkov moved on to nervously grab a small wrapped box from the table and cautiously hand it to Christine. 

“I—I wasn’t sure what to get you, Miss Chapel,” the ensign nervously rubbed his arm, “I hope you like it.”

She took it, surprised, and opened it carefully to find a delicate, blue necklace.

Christine smiled, not displeased with the gift but also sorely wishing it had been something as unique as Uhura’s. “It’s beautiful, Checkov, thank you.”

Chapel moved to pick out her gift and McCoy glanced at the remaining three people, Spock, Kirk, and himself. He rubbed his jaw as, by process of elimination, he realized he was the sorry sod who would receive a gift from the Vulcan, and then couldn’t help but give a snort under his breath at the incredible odds that he and Spock were each other’s Secret Santas. Of course, it would land this way. He knew Spock would be able to calculate the exact probability that something this ridiculous would occur in a matter of seconds. McCoy grumbled to himself, almost missing the ship-in-a-bottle kit that Chapel had gifted Kirk.

After the captain ooo-ed and aah-ed over the USS Enterprise CV-6, he looked over at Spock and McCoy—a wide grin on his face, which made the doctor give a quick irritated glance at the Vulcan. Spock’s expression was neutral, per usual, but McCoy did see the slight rise of his right eyebrow.

“Well, I didn’t think we would complete the loop and still have two people left to give their gifts!” Jim laughed. “Whose present is that on the table?”

“It’s mine,” McCoy snapped.

He stood and trudged over to pick up the large gift bag, and returned to the group.

“For Spock—” then muttering under his breath “—Obviously.”

He thrust it toward the first officer, whose slender fingers took the handles and carefully sat it on the ground. McCoy turned and retreated to his chair to watch from a distance. He couldn’t push down the nervousness he had in his stomach as he waited for Spock to remove the colorful tissue paper and discover the item inside.

Spock leaned over and, after removing the thin paper, retrieved a fuzzy, blue blanket hoodie. He held it out in front of him, looking it over—his expression one of Vulcan curiosity.

In that moment, McCoy felt the inexplicable need to explain the gift choice. “I know you don’t show it and you never complain about it, but it’s gotta be cold on the ship because it’s set for human temperature—and I know how hot Vulcan is—so I figured this would be a pretty good compromise. Obviously, you’d wear it off duty— Can you imagine Spock on the bridge with that thing on?”

He gave a humorous chuckle, noticing the others smiling and laughing too, and that gave him a little boost of confidence. But when he looked over and saw Spock gently folding the hoodie and placing it back in the bag he lost his nerve again. 

“Spock, it’s fine if you don’t like it. I won’t take offense if you don’t end up using it or if you give it away.” He shrugged, letting out an exasperated sigh. He had no idea what the first officer was thinking and didn’t have the heart to search the controlled features that kept the Vulcan’s expression in check to see if he could figure it out.

“That will not be necessary, Doctor,” Spock replied. “Your thoughts and intentions were received with the gift.”

But does he like it? McCoy wondered, rubbing his hands together.

Christine leaned over to him, lightly touching his arm, and whispered, “I think it’s a very thoughtful idea, whether he likes it or not.”

“I think you should try it on,” Jim encouraged.

“Aye, there’s no harm in seeing how it fits,” Scott agreed.

“And you won’t know if you truly like it unless you try it on,” Sulu added.

The others joined in with their own excited statements and exclamations, and Spock’s dark eyes went about the room as his eyebrow quirked. McCoy even swore he saw a slight tug on his lips as if he was amused.

“Very well.” Spock took the hoodie back out of the bag and stood, slipping the item over his head and pulling it down to adjust it comfortably around his torso. He folded back the hood that was covering his face to rest on his shoulders, and then, naturally, tucked his hands in the large, front pocket.

“I think it looks very charming on you, Mr. Spock,” Uhura said, a smile on her face.

“Cozy too,” Checkov chimed in.

“Well, Spock?” Jim asked, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “What do you think?”

Spock paused, looking down at the soft material and how it swept down past his hips. It certainly would keep the heat in, McCoy mused. 

“It is acceptable.”

“There you have it, Bones. He likes it.”

McCoy could hear the laughter in the captain’s voice and ignored it, quietly relieved that the Vulcan wasn’t going to shove it somewhere deep in his closet.

“Alright, Mr. Spock, you’re the last one. What gift did you get the doctor?” Kirk asked.

Spock turned his attention to McCoy. The doctor’s eyes darted to the empty table where the presents used to be. 

“Seems like he’s forgotten to get one, Jim. But that’s just typical.”

“On the contrary, Doctor, my gift merely is not material.”

McCoy’s eyebrow arched. “Oh?”

“Indeed.” Spock paused, as if deciding whether or not to say more, then tipped his head and continued. “At first, I did not know what to get you as your interests outside of the science of medicine were not something I was aware of. But, after consulting with those who knew you more closely than I, I have come to understand that perhaps something material would not best suit you as an ideal gift.”

McCoy’s eyebrow, which had already been raised, kept climbing to his hairline. He was taken off guard at how dedicated Spock had been at finding something that he would appreciate. He didn’t know if he should feel touched or mildly horrified.

“Instead, I have decided to take you to the Red Sand where your mind and body will be given rest and restoration.”

McCoy’s other eyebrow shot up. “You’re taking me to a Vulcan massage specialist ?”

Spock nodded. “I have consulted with the owner of the shop and have learned that she has learned many different massage techniques to provide the best care to all those who come to this Starbase, and not just Vulcan neuro-pressure. However, the Vulcan neuro-pressure technique will give excellent results.”

“Spock, you didn’t have to go that far!” McCoy spluttered, sitting straight in his seat.

“Doctor, I wanted to give you a gift that would best suit you and your needs.”

“But—!”

“Do you not have an interest in medicinal practices?”

“Well sure, but not usually with—”

“And have you not worked many long hours, oftentimes through the night?”

“Y—yes, but—” Through his peripheral he could see Chapel nodding. Traitor, he grumbled in his thoughts.

“And you have, on several occasions, complained about back aches and soreness.”

McCoy didn’t say anything, his brows knit in a frustrated frown.

“He’s got you there, Bones.” Kirk was amused. “Plus, it sounds like a pretty great gift. Who would say ‘no’ to a free back massage?”

McCoy deflated in his seat as the others murmured in agreement and jealousies.

The corner of Spock’s lip curled in the subtle expression McCoy recognized as the Vulcan’s way of teasing. “Of course, if I am mistaken, I will not take offense if you do not wish to accept my gift.”

 “No, no, Spock.” McCoy sighed. “I’m grateful, honest. I just wasn’t expecting it to be…” he waved his hand around. “...such a big one.”

“You will not be going alone, if that is a worry,” the Vulcan added. “I shall accompany you. I am given to understand that the Vulcan technique can sometimes be slightly overwhelming.”

The doctor smiled, and without any sarcasm, said, “Well, isn’t that grand.”