"Deck the halls with boughs of holly…" The single bell dangling from McCoy's elf hat jingled as he passed through the turbolift doors. Smiling faintly, he strode down the hallway towards the senior staff lounge, carrying a crate in his arms. Every crewman he passed seemed to have the Christmas spirit, despite being so far away from their families. Even those Humans who didn't celebrate the holiday and crew from other planets nevertheless joined in on the celebratory activities.
He ducked out of the way as a sciences division Tellarite lieutenant junior grade reached up and hung a sprig of mistletoe just above his head.
"What's the matter, Doctor? Afraid of a little parasitic plant?" She winked at him, puckering her lips.
"No, and cut that out, Thivel." McCoy jerked backwards, then tip-toed around the treacherous plant. "I'm allergic to-"
"Affection?" She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one foot on the floor.
"No, I was actually going to say, "mistletoe". But whatever, one lie's as good as another." McCoy chuckled. "Careful where you stand after you hang that thing. You might catch somebody you don't want under there."
"I'll remember that. Don't wanna keep you from your party." Thivel pointed a thumb in the direction McCoy was headed. "Merry Christmas, Doctor. Enjoy."
"Jeta-sim Bhua-di, Thivel." McCoy nodded at her, making his hat jingle again. She waved her goodbyes, then turned at the sound of her name, greeting two security officers who were carrying mugs filled with a purple foamy drink. Shaking his head, McCoy continued towards the door of the lounge. He was just about to pass through the doors when he bumped into a short officer whose hair was combed back over his head. "Sorry, Yeoman."
Yeoman Davey shrugged. "That for the party? I'll take it." The redshirt grabbed the crate from McCoy and set it down just inside the room, turning and barring the doorway when McCoy tried to enter. "You'll have to wait outside, though. Commander says nobody but himself and me are allowed in just yet."
McCoy frowned. "So that makes you Spock's bouncer, then?"
Davey leaned one hand against the doorframe. "Yeah, I guess. Sorry, Doc. I'd sneak you in the back door, only there isn't one." He scrubbed the side of his head with his other hand. "You understand, right?"
"I do and I don't." McCoy threw his hands up in the air. "What's with all the security? You'd think this was a Federation summit meeting, not a holiday bash."
"Beats me. I'm just helping him with the decorations." Davey rolled his eyes. "Such as they are." He headed back inside, the door sliding shut behind him.
"Maybe Spock wants it to be a surprise." McCoy turned at the sound of Kirk's voice. Instead of his casual duty uniform, the captain was wearing khakis and a sweater with red and white striped sleeves and a big evergreen tree on the front, decorated with dangling yarn in the shape of paper chains, and topped with a gold Starfleet delta. The yarn appeared to have glitter interwoven throughout, catching the light.
"Egads. That is the ugliest Christmas sweater I have ever seen in my life." McCoy covered his eyes. "Spock's gonna have a stroke when he sees that monstrosity."
"He will not." Uhura glanced at a compact mirror, then snapped it shut and slipped it into her handbag. "You know, you don't give him enough credit. A stroke? Two eyebrows, yes, but bursting blood vessels is your thing, not his." She squeezed his left arm affectionately. "Relax, Leonard."
Sulu fiddled with a couple of memory tapes in his hand. The one on top was labeled Classic Christmas Playlist. "Nice hat, Doc." He tugged on the collar of his plaid flannel shirt. "What are you supposed to be? An elf?"
McCoy shook his head. "Nah. Don't have the ears for it," he grinned, pinching his right upper earlobe into a point. "I may not be a pastry chef, either, but I brought some ginger snaps and my granny's eggnog."
Scotty clapped him on the shoulder. "Aye, we must've been on the same wavelength, laddie." He lifted an insulated bag from the ground, testing the weight. "Scottish shortbread and a cup of cheer." He leaned closer to the doctor's ear and whispered, "Courtesy of Spock's.. ahem… distant cousins on his daddy's side. But that's just betwixt you, me, an' the-"
"-captain, who's bound by the same Starfleet and Federation trade regulations as you." Kirk pushed his way in between them, glancing back and forth at both men. "That is, assuming he's aware that a crime is being committed." He put his arm around each man's shoulder and glared at Scott. "Which I am not. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"
Scott gulped. "Aye, sir." He turned as Chekov appeared behind him, holocamera in hand. "Merry Christmas, Pavel," he exclaimed, grabbing the navigator's other hand and pumping it up and down.
Chekov frowned in confusion. "Am I too late? I thought the party began at 2000 hours." He flexed the hand Scotty had gripped, then wiped it on his pant leg.
McCoy shook his head. "Nah, kid. Spock's just taking a while to deck the halls. You know how he gets when he's given a task to complete. Everything has to be just so." McCoy pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "He's probably in there weighing the tinsel or something."
Uhura licked her lips. "I hope that's all it is."
"You think he might have gotten lost in the memories of Christmases past?" McCoy asked gently.
She shook her head. "Lost in something. Or should I say, nothing." A wry smile brightened her features. "The new Contemplative Silence tie-in novel came out two days ago, and he stayed up until 0345 this morning reading it. Even then, he only managed to get halfway through it. I thought maybe he might be…well, so enthralled with his book that he's forgotten all about the party."
A chorus of groans issued from the crowd. McCoy crossed his arms. "He'd better not be. I postponed an important conference call with the Dren'sar Medical Council to attend a Christmas party, not so our bookaholic first officer can scratch a silent itch." He looked up as Davey exited the lounge, frowning. "Well? Is he ready for us or not, Yeoman?" McCoy asked, one hand placed on Davey's chest.
Davey sighed. "Yeah. He is. But I'm not sure you're ready for him," he finished, eying the jingle bell on McCoy's hat.
"What's that supposed to mean?" McCoy asked, reaching up adjust the brim of his hat, jingling the bell again.
Davey shrugged. "You'll see in a minute." He pushed past the gathered crowd of officers, shaking his head, and disappeared around the corner of the corridor. Something fluttered to the floor in his wake.
McCoy reached down to pick it up. A single strand of black shiny foil dangled from his hand. "Looks like a piece of tinsel hitched a ride." He frowned as a peculiar tingly feeling moved over his scalp.
Uhura took the strand from his hand. "Maybe it's Spock's bookmark," she offered, glancing over McCoy's shoulder. "Spock? Can we go in yet?"
McCoy turned around. Spock stood by the doorway, his hands folded behind his back, his face the picture of calm. "Yes. I have finished with the preparations. The party commences now." He stepped aside, allowing them access to the doorway.
"It's about time," McCoy grumbled. "I was gettin' decidedly less jolly by the minute out here waiting for you to make the tree symmetrical." He stepped into the lounge, followed by the rest of the crew. "Where'd you put my cookies and eggnog?"
"The refreshments are on the tables at the back of the room," Spock replied. McCoy noticed that the lounge tables had been pushed together against the far wall and covered with a black tablecloth. His cookies and eggnog were arranged on the left side, next to a bowl of blackberry punch and a jar of dark-striped candy canes…
Dark…
McCoy squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them one at a time. The walls of the lounge, which were normally colored a cheerful sky blue, were as dark as charcoal. Black wreaths festooned with black ribbons covered the walls. A black tree stood in the corner of the room, heaped with reams of the same black tinsel Davey had dropped, more black candy canes, little black balls, and tiny plushies. A black star sat on top.
McCoy swallowed. "Merry…Christmas?" he croaked.
Uhura dropped the tinsel she had been holding. "Ho, ho, ho," she quipped, pacing toward her boyfriend, hands on hips. "Spock, what did you do to this room?"
Kirk held one finger up in the air. "Uhhhh…silence-ized it?" He glanced down at his front. "Really glad I wore this sweater now," he added, fingering the "paper chains".
The other crew entered the room, their faces a mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension. Chekov fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it on the floor. Scotty unzipped his bag and pulled out his "cup of cheer", taking a healthy swig straight from the bottle. Sulu slipped the memory tapes into his shirt pocket and moved towards the tree, looking for any sign of light or color.
"I assure you, the black paint is only temporary. It comes off with the application of a standard detergent and what I believe you would call "elbow grease"." Spock stood in the middle of the room, spreading his hands apart in a gesture of welcome. "I hope you will all enjoy the festivities."
"Fest…" McCoy trailed off, sinking into a chair next to the wall. Putting his head in his hands, he drew in a shaky breath, letting it out in a rush. "I think I'm going to faint," he mumbled.
Spock walked over to the tables and chose one of McCoy's gingerbread cookie from the platter. Kneeling down next to the doctor's chair, the Vulcan offered the cookie to him. "When was the last time you ate something, Doctor? As you know, low blood sug-"
McCoy slapped the cookie out of Spock's hand. It hit the wall, crumbling into several pieces. "My blood sugar is just fine, Spock! It's my brain that's all out of whack! No, I take that back; yours!" His face reddened with anger. "This…this is the sorriest excuse I ever saw for a Christmas party! You-are-unbelievable! Contemplative Silence…" He threw his hands up in the air. "Of all things…" He laughed dryly, poking his finger into Spock's chest. "So tell me, Mr. Grinch. What else have you got besides black trees and candy? Black light twinkle lights? Dark garland?"
"Hello." McCoy swiveled his head. Sulu shifted his feet uncomfortably, gesturing upwards with his head. Dark lights wrapped around ebony swag glowed softly above him.
McCoy grabbed Spock's black sweater, yanking it towards him. "What else, huh?! Black wrapped gifts?! Clapperless bells?!"
Spock remained the picture of calm, gently unwinding McCoy's fingers one by one. "Please, Doctor."
Scotty coughed. In his hands, he held a black box tied with a black bow. He shook it next to his ear, trying to figure out what it was. No sound came from the package. He cast a look towards his cheer. Uhura rummaged through several other boxes, shaking her head in disbelief.
Chekov tapped a dark bell with his finger. Nothing. He looked inside the ornament. "It's all true," he whispered aloud, incredulous. "Anything you can come up with, he has." He turned on his camera and began taking photos. "Nobody vould ever believe me if I didn't document thees."
McCoy fisted his hands at his sides. "Is nothing sacred to you," he hissed, "you little-"
"All right, Bones. Break it up." Kirk pushed his way between McCoy and Spock. He took a sip of punch from his cup, putting an arm around the doctor's shoulders and steering him towards the refreshments. "Go pick up your cookie and cool off a little. Christmas is a time for love, joy, and peace, not strangling your colleagues." A candy cane dangled from his sweater, hooked on one of the "paper chains".
McCoy sighed. "I know, I know." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "I was actually looking forward to this party, you know. I should've known he'd turn Christmas into Silence Day." Spying a small computer console on a stand near the wall, he snapped his fingers. "That's what's missing. A little music."
"That's the spirit." Kirk grinned. "What with your eggnog and Scotty's…cheer, we'll be seeing plenty of lights and colors. Speaking of which…" He accepted a cup from the engineer, toasting him with it. "To a very merry Christmas."
McCoy shook his head, smiling as he pressed a button on the console. "Sulu, bring your playlist tapes over here and let's get this party started." A small tape ejected from the tape slot. He picked it up. "What's this?"
Sulu peered over McCoy's shoulder at the tape's label. "Sounds of Silence, Vol. 1."
"Yes." Spock took the tape from McCoy and re-inserted it in the slot. "I had it on shuffle." McCoy stared at him, jaw hanging open. "As you can see, I have been quite thorough in my preparations for this party, ambience included. I had not forgotten about the music." He pressed the play button, closed his eyes, and listened for a few seconds. "Ah. That's better."
"Music," McCoy scoffed. "What's playing now, "Silent Night"?" He hummed the first couple of bars of the carol.
Spock raised an eyebrow.
McCoy was just about to say something when Uhura tugged on his sleeve. "Leonard, you have to see this." She angled her head towards the opposite wall of the room. "Come on."
"What is it? Don't tell me he's figured out a way to make silent peanut brittle, too," McCoy quipped, following her footsteps.
"Let's just say…it's an answer to one of your earlier questions." She stopped in front of the table and waved a hand at the ornament that had been placed there.
It was a small Nativity scene that looked to be hand-carved and painted. McCoy leaned closer, studying the intricate details of the people's faces, the folds of their clothing, the wool of the sheep, the angel's wings. "Well, now…"
"Of all of the symbols that are customary at this time of year, I found myself oddly…loath to adapt this one to Contemplative Silence." Spock stood between Uhura and McCoy, his gaze pensive. "It is, after all, the reason a holiday known as Christmas exists to this day, the appropriation of certain customs from other religions and cultures aside."
McCoy studied him for a moment. "Could've left it out altogether," he began slowly. "Since it doesn't fit with the 'theme', after all."
Spock nodded slowly. "I could have." He looked over at the others, who had crowded around, drawn by the conversation. "But I did not want to."
McCoy's gaze returned to the babe in the manger. "The one light shinin' in the darkness…" He studied the faces of his friends and co-workers. Joy born of togetherness, of having braved the unknown and survived, shone in their eyes. Even Spock seemed at peace, one arm around Uhura's waist as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Sniffling, McCoy wiped away a tear that trailed down his cheek. He reached out a hand towards the Vulcan. "Merry Christmas, Spock."
Spock took his hand and shook it. "And a silent night, Leonard."
McCoy laughed. "Not too silent, I hope."
He ducked out of the way as a sciences division Tellarite lieutenant junior grade reached up and hung a sprig of mistletoe just above his head.
"What's the matter, Doctor? Afraid of a little parasitic plant?" She winked at him, puckering her lips.
"No, and cut that out, Thivel." McCoy jerked backwards, then tip-toed around the treacherous plant. "I'm allergic to-"
"Affection?" She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one foot on the floor.
"No, I was actually going to say, "mistletoe". But whatever, one lie's as good as another." McCoy chuckled. "Careful where you stand after you hang that thing. You might catch somebody you don't want under there."
"I'll remember that. Don't wanna keep you from your party." Thivel pointed a thumb in the direction McCoy was headed. "Merry Christmas, Doctor. Enjoy."
"Jeta-sim Bhua-di, Thivel." McCoy nodded at her, making his hat jingle again. She waved her goodbyes, then turned at the sound of her name, greeting two security officers who were carrying mugs filled with a purple foamy drink. Shaking his head, McCoy continued towards the door of the lounge. He was just about to pass through the doors when he bumped into a short officer whose hair was combed back over his head. "Sorry, Yeoman."
Yeoman Davey shrugged. "That for the party? I'll take it." The redshirt grabbed the crate from McCoy and set it down just inside the room, turning and barring the doorway when McCoy tried to enter. "You'll have to wait outside, though. Commander says nobody but himself and me are allowed in just yet."
McCoy frowned. "So that makes you Spock's bouncer, then?"
Davey leaned one hand against the doorframe. "Yeah, I guess. Sorry, Doc. I'd sneak you in the back door, only there isn't one." He scrubbed the side of his head with his other hand. "You understand, right?"
"I do and I don't." McCoy threw his hands up in the air. "What's with all the security? You'd think this was a Federation summit meeting, not a holiday bash."
"Beats me. I'm just helping him with the decorations." Davey rolled his eyes. "Such as they are." He headed back inside, the door sliding shut behind him.
"Maybe Spock wants it to be a surprise." McCoy turned at the sound of Kirk's voice. Instead of his casual duty uniform, the captain was wearing khakis and a sweater with red and white striped sleeves and a big evergreen tree on the front, decorated with dangling yarn in the shape of paper chains, and topped with a gold Starfleet delta. The yarn appeared to have glitter interwoven throughout, catching the light.
"Egads. That is the ugliest Christmas sweater I have ever seen in my life." McCoy covered his eyes. "Spock's gonna have a stroke when he sees that monstrosity."
"He will not." Uhura glanced at a compact mirror, then snapped it shut and slipped it into her handbag. "You know, you don't give him enough credit. A stroke? Two eyebrows, yes, but bursting blood vessels is your thing, not his." She squeezed his left arm affectionately. "Relax, Leonard."
Sulu fiddled with a couple of memory tapes in his hand. The one on top was labeled Classic Christmas Playlist. "Nice hat, Doc." He tugged on the collar of his plaid flannel shirt. "What are you supposed to be? An elf?"
McCoy shook his head. "Nah. Don't have the ears for it," he grinned, pinching his right upper earlobe into a point. "I may not be a pastry chef, either, but I brought some ginger snaps and my granny's eggnog."
Scotty clapped him on the shoulder. "Aye, we must've been on the same wavelength, laddie." He lifted an insulated bag from the ground, testing the weight. "Scottish shortbread and a cup of cheer." He leaned closer to the doctor's ear and whispered, "Courtesy of Spock's.. ahem… distant cousins on his daddy's side. But that's just betwixt you, me, an' the-"
"-captain, who's bound by the same Starfleet and Federation trade regulations as you." Kirk pushed his way in between them, glancing back and forth at both men. "That is, assuming he's aware that a crime is being committed." He put his arm around each man's shoulder and glared at Scott. "Which I am not. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"
Scott gulped. "Aye, sir." He turned as Chekov appeared behind him, holocamera in hand. "Merry Christmas, Pavel," he exclaimed, grabbing the navigator's other hand and pumping it up and down.
Chekov frowned in confusion. "Am I too late? I thought the party began at 2000 hours." He flexed the hand Scotty had gripped, then wiped it on his pant leg.
McCoy shook his head. "Nah, kid. Spock's just taking a while to deck the halls. You know how he gets when he's given a task to complete. Everything has to be just so." McCoy pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "He's probably in there weighing the tinsel or something."
Uhura licked her lips. "I hope that's all it is."
"You think he might have gotten lost in the memories of Christmases past?" McCoy asked gently.
She shook her head. "Lost in something. Or should I say, nothing." A wry smile brightened her features. "The new Contemplative Silence tie-in novel came out two days ago, and he stayed up until 0345 this morning reading it. Even then, he only managed to get halfway through it. I thought maybe he might be…well, so enthralled with his book that he's forgotten all about the party."
A chorus of groans issued from the crowd. McCoy crossed his arms. "He'd better not be. I postponed an important conference call with the Dren'sar Medical Council to attend a Christmas party, not so our bookaholic first officer can scratch a silent itch." He looked up as Davey exited the lounge, frowning. "Well? Is he ready for us or not, Yeoman?" McCoy asked, one hand placed on Davey's chest.
Davey sighed. "Yeah. He is. But I'm not sure you're ready for him," he finished, eying the jingle bell on McCoy's hat.
"What's that supposed to mean?" McCoy asked, reaching up adjust the brim of his hat, jingling the bell again.
Davey shrugged. "You'll see in a minute." He pushed past the gathered crowd of officers, shaking his head, and disappeared around the corner of the corridor. Something fluttered to the floor in his wake.
McCoy reached down to pick it up. A single strand of black shiny foil dangled from his hand. "Looks like a piece of tinsel hitched a ride." He frowned as a peculiar tingly feeling moved over his scalp.
Uhura took the strand from his hand. "Maybe it's Spock's bookmark," she offered, glancing over McCoy's shoulder. "Spock? Can we go in yet?"
McCoy turned around. Spock stood by the doorway, his hands folded behind his back, his face the picture of calm. "Yes. I have finished with the preparations. The party commences now." He stepped aside, allowing them access to the doorway.
"It's about time," McCoy grumbled. "I was gettin' decidedly less jolly by the minute out here waiting for you to make the tree symmetrical." He stepped into the lounge, followed by the rest of the crew. "Where'd you put my cookies and eggnog?"
"The refreshments are on the tables at the back of the room," Spock replied. McCoy noticed that the lounge tables had been pushed together against the far wall and covered with a black tablecloth. His cookies and eggnog were arranged on the left side, next to a bowl of blackberry punch and a jar of dark-striped candy canes…
Dark…
McCoy squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them one at a time. The walls of the lounge, which were normally colored a cheerful sky blue, were as dark as charcoal. Black wreaths festooned with black ribbons covered the walls. A black tree stood in the corner of the room, heaped with reams of the same black tinsel Davey had dropped, more black candy canes, little black balls, and tiny plushies. A black star sat on top.
McCoy swallowed. "Merry…Christmas?" he croaked.
Uhura dropped the tinsel she had been holding. "Ho, ho, ho," she quipped, pacing toward her boyfriend, hands on hips. "Spock, what did you do to this room?"
Kirk held one finger up in the air. "Uhhhh…silence-ized it?" He glanced down at his front. "Really glad I wore this sweater now," he added, fingering the "paper chains".
The other crew entered the room, their faces a mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension. Chekov fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it on the floor. Scotty unzipped his bag and pulled out his "cup of cheer", taking a healthy swig straight from the bottle. Sulu slipped the memory tapes into his shirt pocket and moved towards the tree, looking for any sign of light or color.
"I assure you, the black paint is only temporary. It comes off with the application of a standard detergent and what I believe you would call "elbow grease"." Spock stood in the middle of the room, spreading his hands apart in a gesture of welcome. "I hope you will all enjoy the festivities."
"Fest…" McCoy trailed off, sinking into a chair next to the wall. Putting his head in his hands, he drew in a shaky breath, letting it out in a rush. "I think I'm going to faint," he mumbled.
Spock walked over to the tables and chose one of McCoy's gingerbread cookie from the platter. Kneeling down next to the doctor's chair, the Vulcan offered the cookie to him. "When was the last time you ate something, Doctor? As you know, low blood sug-"
McCoy slapped the cookie out of Spock's hand. It hit the wall, crumbling into several pieces. "My blood sugar is just fine, Spock! It's my brain that's all out of whack! No, I take that back; yours!" His face reddened with anger. "This…this is the sorriest excuse I ever saw for a Christmas party! You-are-unbelievable! Contemplative Silence…" He threw his hands up in the air. "Of all things…" He laughed dryly, poking his finger into Spock's chest. "So tell me, Mr. Grinch. What else have you got besides black trees and candy? Black light twinkle lights? Dark garland?"
"Hello." McCoy swiveled his head. Sulu shifted his feet uncomfortably, gesturing upwards with his head. Dark lights wrapped around ebony swag glowed softly above him.
McCoy grabbed Spock's black sweater, yanking it towards him. "What else, huh?! Black wrapped gifts?! Clapperless bells?!"
Spock remained the picture of calm, gently unwinding McCoy's fingers one by one. "Please, Doctor."
Scotty coughed. In his hands, he held a black box tied with a black bow. He shook it next to his ear, trying to figure out what it was. No sound came from the package. He cast a look towards his cheer. Uhura rummaged through several other boxes, shaking her head in disbelief.
Chekov tapped a dark bell with his finger. Nothing. He looked inside the ornament. "It's all true," he whispered aloud, incredulous. "Anything you can come up with, he has." He turned on his camera and began taking photos. "Nobody vould ever believe me if I didn't document thees."
McCoy fisted his hands at his sides. "Is nothing sacred to you," he hissed, "you little-"
"All right, Bones. Break it up." Kirk pushed his way between McCoy and Spock. He took a sip of punch from his cup, putting an arm around the doctor's shoulders and steering him towards the refreshments. "Go pick up your cookie and cool off a little. Christmas is a time for love, joy, and peace, not strangling your colleagues." A candy cane dangled from his sweater, hooked on one of the "paper chains".
McCoy sighed. "I know, I know." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "I was actually looking forward to this party, you know. I should've known he'd turn Christmas into Silence Day." Spying a small computer console on a stand near the wall, he snapped his fingers. "That's what's missing. A little music."
"That's the spirit." Kirk grinned. "What with your eggnog and Scotty's…cheer, we'll be seeing plenty of lights and colors. Speaking of which…" He accepted a cup from the engineer, toasting him with it. "To a very merry Christmas."
McCoy shook his head, smiling as he pressed a button on the console. "Sulu, bring your playlist tapes over here and let's get this party started." A small tape ejected from the tape slot. He picked it up. "What's this?"
Sulu peered over McCoy's shoulder at the tape's label. "Sounds of Silence, Vol. 1."
"Yes." Spock took the tape from McCoy and re-inserted it in the slot. "I had it on shuffle." McCoy stared at him, jaw hanging open. "As you can see, I have been quite thorough in my preparations for this party, ambience included. I had not forgotten about the music." He pressed the play button, closed his eyes, and listened for a few seconds. "Ah. That's better."
"Music," McCoy scoffed. "What's playing now, "Silent Night"?" He hummed the first couple of bars of the carol.
Spock raised an eyebrow.
McCoy was just about to say something when Uhura tugged on his sleeve. "Leonard, you have to see this." She angled her head towards the opposite wall of the room. "Come on."
"What is it? Don't tell me he's figured out a way to make silent peanut brittle, too," McCoy quipped, following her footsteps.
"Let's just say…it's an answer to one of your earlier questions." She stopped in front of the table and waved a hand at the ornament that had been placed there.
It was a small Nativity scene that looked to be hand-carved and painted. McCoy leaned closer, studying the intricate details of the people's faces, the folds of their clothing, the wool of the sheep, the angel's wings. "Well, now…"
"Of all of the symbols that are customary at this time of year, I found myself oddly…loath to adapt this one to Contemplative Silence." Spock stood between Uhura and McCoy, his gaze pensive. "It is, after all, the reason a holiday known as Christmas exists to this day, the appropriation of certain customs from other religions and cultures aside."
McCoy studied him for a moment. "Could've left it out altogether," he began slowly. "Since it doesn't fit with the 'theme', after all."
Spock nodded slowly. "I could have." He looked over at the others, who had crowded around, drawn by the conversation. "But I did not want to."
McCoy's gaze returned to the babe in the manger. "The one light shinin' in the darkness…" He studied the faces of his friends and co-workers. Joy born of togetherness, of having braved the unknown and survived, shone in their eyes. Even Spock seemed at peace, one arm around Uhura's waist as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Sniffling, McCoy wiped away a tear that trailed down his cheek. He reached out a hand towards the Vulcan. "Merry Christmas, Spock."
Spock took his hand and shook it. "And a silent night, Leonard."
McCoy laughed. "Not too silent, I hope."
