Much Ado About Vulcan (A Spock Love Story) - COMPLETE

A Vulcan Christmas

This chapter goes out to Ruth, who hit me up with a large amount of Star Trek knowledge so I could make this Chapter more realistic for you guys. (and also coming up with the ideas of what spock should get for Christmas off his mother. Hope it makes you guys laugh)

ONWARDS AND UPWARDS

Spock didn't understand Christmas.

He didn't understand the concept of celebrating the birth of a man who may or may not have existed over 3000 years before he was born, he didn't understand the concept of spending one day of the year giving gifts to people, and he definitely didn't understand the necessity of having a 6" fir tree standing in the corner of his living room, covered completely in flashing lights. His mother, unsurprisingly, had bought the tree as soon as she arrived on Earth, and with the begrudging help of his father, had carried it to Spock's apartment, and spent a good three hours decorating it. Despite the fact that his carpet would be covered in fallen fir spines for the foreseeable future, he couldn't help but be pleased that his family was here.

His father, Sarek, unsurprisingly, had greeted him with a curt nod of his head, and a grumbled "Peace and long life,". His mother on the other hand had enveloped him in a hug that had almost taken his breath away, and immediately showered him with bags and carefully-wrapped gifts, which he had, in accordance with tradition, placed under the monstrous tree.

On Christmas morning, Spock awoke, as usual, at 0500 hours. He pulled himself off his couch, he had given his bed to his parents, and groggily stumbled to the restroom, where he had a shower that lasted exactly five minutes. He began his day with a scheduled hour of meditation, before entering his small kitchen and pouring himself out a bowl of bran flakes, picking a small metal spoon out of a drawer and eating them dry. He glanced across the darkened room to the unwanted fir tree in the corner, the fairy lights twinkling and reflecting off the large silver baubles which his mother had excitedly hung up. A small half-smile played at the corner of his mouth. His mother, Amanda, was a human, and did as humans do. She smiled, laughed, joked, and even cried. During Spock's upbringing, he had abhorred the qualities, as they had singled him out as a laughing stock amongst his peers, but over the years he, as his father, had come to accept them. They had become quirks that he almost missed when he wasn't around her.

In some way, though, recently, that hole had been filled. Cadet Birchwood, ever-problematic, had become almost a friend to Spock in the past few months. She had spent more time alone with him than anybody, and he had even begun to find himself making jokes and sharing humour around her, something which he would never have imagined himself doing in a million years six months ago.

He remembered the first time that he had seen her smile. Not at a friend, or in passing, but the first time that she had genuinely smiled at him. It had taken his breath away, the way that her whole face lit up, her eyes crinkling at the sides. He smiled to himself as he recalled the way that her teeth had seemed ever-so-slightly too big for her mouth, making her beam seem even more radiant. From that moment onwards, he had vowed to make her smile as much as he could, as often as he could.

He was ashamed to admit that it had become almost like a drug for him.

She had smiled when she had opened his Christmas present, a small alarm clock wrapped in novelty wrapping paper.

He had known that she would.

That was why he got it for her.

A small but distinct blush crept up his cheeks as he recalled what had happened only an hour after that, when she had been leaving his office, but had stopped directly in front of him, her blue eyes steeled in resolve. She wouldn't move, and neither would he.