Captains also have to be nice
2003
Fandom: Star Trek TOS/Sci-Fi
Pairing: K/S
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jim gets what he deserves, but from whom?
Disclaimer: The characters in this story don’t belong to
me. I only borrowed them for some fun. No moneymaking, and no violation of
copyrights is intended. The story is mine, and it is just fanfiction. If you
are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with this topic, then
look elsewhere for your entertainment.
Feedback: tlen11@freenet.de
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: English is not my native language, so please be patient with my
mistakes. PhenDog did a really great job correcting my errors. My greatest
gratitude to her. For all remaining errors, blame me.
He smelled the aroma of the needles – they had decorated the tree this afternoon - and also of the cookies – mom had baked some hours ago – as little Jimmy carefully climbed down the stairway in the dark. Actually, he should be in bed and sleep, but he just wasn’t able to sleep the night before Christmas. Especially now, because he had heard some suspicious noises. That just had to be Santa Claus, bringing his presents. He loved to get presents so very much. And he wanted to have them now.
“James T. Kirk, you are not a
nice boy!” the boisterous voice let him wince.
Captain Kirk sat upright in
his bed and squinted when the last remainders of his dream – a nice memory of
his childhood at home on the farm in Iowa – gone away. But the boisterous voice
didn’t fade. He realised it didn’t belonged to the dream but to that guy with
the red cap and coat and the white beard that he saw in the dim night
illumination standing in front of his bed.
Red coat? White beard?
Shouldn’t that tell him something? Santa Claus! Santa Claus stood in front of
his bed? Impossible! He still must be dreaming. Santa Claus
didn’t exist! And he was to old to be still believing in him.
“Light on!” Jim ordered. The
stranger didn’t disappear as his cabin became more brightly lit, but somehow he
looked vaguely familiar now. Wasn’t there swung eyebrows looking out the red
cap?
“Spock, is that you?” Jim asked, confused.
“I am Santa Claus,” the
stranger emphasised, but, in spite of the changed voice, Jim was certain it was
the Vulcan in front of him. Who else could have been able to come unseen and at
night into his cabin, through locked doors (only the one to the bath he shared
with Spock was open) and without triggering the alarm? Only the true Santa Claus – and he didn’t
exist.
“What is this masquerade
about?” Jim asked, slightly upset about the disturbance of his sleep. Okay, he
had told Spock he should get more familiar with old Earth customs, but did he
have to exaggerate things that much?
And where the hell had he found that costume on board the ship?
Santa Claus pulled a book out
of his sack. He also had a sack. Jim began reluctantly to admire Spock’s
ingenuity and original faithfulness. But did he have to wake him in the middle
in the night for that? The next day would have done as well. He really was
exhausted from doing all the things that had to be settled by the end of the
year – especially too long delayed reports. And tomorrow – or more accurately
today, as it surely already was after midnight – the Christmas celebration with
the crew was scheduled. The celebrations on the Enterprise were a well-known
and famous legend, for which Jim always felt personally responsible, so he had
had lots to do lately.
He wanted to accelerate
things a little bit and go back to sleep. “Do you have a present for me,
Santa?” he asked with twinkling eyes; he still loved to get gifts.
“James T. Kirk, over the last
year you have not always behaved nicely,” Santa Claus ranted
“Didn’t I? “ Jim asked back.
“Can you give me an example?”
Santa leafed in his book.
“You embarrassed your t’hy’la because you were flirting with strange women.”
“Hey, that was only in for
the cause of our missions,“ Jim defended himself. “It has never happened
otherwise. And, if you are jealous, why don’t you just tell me and then I
stop?“
“You do not live according
your nourishment plans,” the other continued without reacting to Jim’s objection.
“Have you conceived this
‘game’ together with Bones?“ Jim asked back.
Again, he did not get an
answer. “You do not always follow the directions of the Federation and
Starfleet.”
Jim just rolled with his
eyes.
“You often bring yourself unnecessarily
in danger, frightening your friends with your actions.”
“Okay, okay,” Jim defended
himself. “I understand. Let us bring this to an end. What do you want from me?
Shall I recite a poem? Sing a song?”
“You deserve the rod,” was
the boisterous return.
And before Jim really
realised it, he had received a strong blow on his back.
He instantly burst out of the
bed. “Ouch! That’s enough! You are over doing
it, Spock!”
“I think more than one blow
would be appropriate for your offences.“
Again the rod was
lifted. Jim backed back against the
wall. “Enough!” he said. “Or shall I make it an order, Mr. Spock?”
“I am Santa Claus, I do not
take orders from anyone,” his attacker answered indignantly.
Jim sighed. “You are really
exaggerate, darling,” he noted. “Please tell me what you want so that I can get
back to sleep.”
“Do you promise to behave
better next year?” the deep voice asked.
“Not to flirt so much, to follow your diet, and to be more careful and
considerate with all your actions?”
Jim nodded. “I promise.”
“Well, you also did much good
for your people and many others. So you will be forgiven but be warned, I will
observe you further.”
“Okay, okay,” Jim
mumbled.
“Then you should have your
gift,” Santa pulled something out the sack.
As Jim accepted the packet,
he was not able to resist his curiosity.
He really loved gifts. Impatiently he removed the bow and packaging;
then he held an antique book in his hands, one he had longed after for a long
time.
“Spock, thank...” Jim looked
up, and cut himself off himself. His cabin was empty.
///
“You were a convincing Santa
Claus, darling. You should play the part at our Christmas-celebration. But I’m tempted to be upset with you because
of the blow with the rod,” Jim said as Spock entered his cabin five minutes
later through the bathroom. He now wore a black gown that made him look very
sexy, at least in Jim’s opinion.
“Santa Claus? I do not
understand?” Spock lifted both eyebrows.
“Oh, come on! Stop the game.
I recognised you, of course.” Jim climbed out the bed, embraced Spock and
kissed him. “Thank you very much for the book. It really wasn’t necessary to
make me such a valuable gift, but I love it of course.”
Spock looked somewhat
irritated at the book that lay on Jim’s night table. “I did not give this to
you,” he said. “I wanted to give my present to you after the celebration.“
“You have not?” Now Jim also
was somewhat confused. The book was obviously there; he could not have dreamed
the whole episode. And who else would have played Santa Claus on him? Bones?
Impossible; the physician would have betrayed himself after two minutes with
shaking from laughing. That was sure. Another crew member? No, that would make
no sense. Why should someone have done this? It was Spock, period! But obviously he wanted to play it
further.
“Darling, it’s so sweet of
you that you want to give me joy with celebrating old earthly
Christmas-traditions. But you can
really admit it.”
Spock shook his head.
“T’hy’la, I assure you, I was in the laboratory until exactly 5.67 minutes ago.
The computer can confirm that. After that I returned on direct way into my
cabin, changed clothes and came to you.
I did, however, not give you this book, and I was previously not in this cabin.“
Jim stared at him. Spock did
sound so convincing. And Vulcans did not lie, did they? “Have you really not
been here? Dressed as Santa Claus?” he asked.
“No.”
“But who was it then?” Jim
thought aloud. “It just can’t have been... no, impossible... or? Santa Claus?
Does he exist?”
“There are more things
between sky and earth than you may think,” Spock quoted. And in his dark eyes there was for a brief
moment a suspicious glimmering when he kissed Jim.
End