taxonomites | 003: Festive Cheer [Visual]

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003: Festive Cheer [Visual]

Spock is not given to making frivolous network posts. He considers them to be an unproductive use of time that could be better spent assessing the city and its technology. So, when he switches his tablet on, it is immediately clear – at least to those that know him – that something is wrong.

However, the thing that is most unsettling about the post is the not the fact that it has been made in the first place. It is the fact that the half Vulcan on the screen looks, for want of a better word, happy. Although he is clearly endeavoring to control his emotions and logically process what is happening, he is struggling to do so successfully.

“I believe I am feeling the emotion known as ‘happiness’. A curious experience, though the neurobiological responses are not unpleasant.”

It would appear that Buddy has claimed another victim (or given a gift to another fortunate individual, depending on your viewpoint). Unfortunately, Spock is ill-equipped to deal with holiday cheer.

“I request further information on the human holiday known as ‘Christmas’."

Although he understood the historical significance of the festival, and many of the associated rituals, the truly human aspects - the associated emotions, for example - had previously been lost to him. He had never truly felt the joy associated with giving and receiving presents. He had never experienced the desire to eat a copious amount of food or wished to spend an afternoon relaxing in front of the television while it digested.

"What are the protocols associated with the giving of gifts?"

OOC: Backdated to Christmas Eve. I didn't have a chance to post at the time, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

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Mary isn't entirely sure what to make of someone who doesn't understand the concept of Christmas. The man's description of it as a 'human' holiday worries her for a moment, but he doesn't seem to be particularly threatening, and he appears to be, as he said, happy. She thinks it's a sin that someone who wants to celebrate the holiday doesn't know how to do so, and closes the book she's been reading to reach over and grab the tablet.

"You've never had a Christmas before?" she asks politely, curious. Dean, from what he's told her, hasn't celebrated a lot of holidays. She blames that on John, but focuses on the knowledge that it's up to her to give him one this year. Without John and Sam it won't be everything that it could be, but she's not letting him go another year without one. "What do you mean by protocol, hon? Our traditions?"

"No, I have not."

Though his mother had spoken of the holiday, she had not encouraged him to celebrate it. Although Spock had once appreciated her attempts to alleviate some of his childhood struggles, he now felt as if her actions had deprived him of a vital learning experience. Furthermore, as ge had not participated in the holiday as a child, he had spent many Christmases at Starfleet Academy covering shifts and allowing his human coworkers to spend time with their own families.

"Yes. I understand that gifts can either be placed in a stocking or situated beneath a suitably decorated tree?"

And both options appeared to be equally illogical.

"They can." Mary can't help thinking it's sweet that he's making this kind of effort for the first time, and not entirely unlike her Thanksgiving gathering with the boys. They'd been too young to remember celebrating anything with her before her death, and as adults it had them confused as to what her expectations were of them. She assumes that this young man has the same concerns; he'd like to do things the 'right' way now that he's in the mood to give it a try.

"Or you can hand your gifts to your loved ones directly, if you'd like. I doubt anyone who cares about you would have an issue with you presenting their gifts to them." She thinks he should have that option, if fitting a present into a stocking makes him feel uncomfortable. "They might not know to look in their stockings if they're not expecting gifts from you."

Although Spock is aware that Christmas is highly illogical - a curious combination of commercialism, pagan rituals and, in some cases, monotheistic religion - Buddy's presence in the city has left him with an indescribable desire to do things properly. He knew that should a desire could only be fulfilled by proceeding slowly and logically.

"I see," he said, "I believe that would be more appropriate. It would be ... pleasant to see their reactions."

Although he suspected that Doctor McCoy would interpret it as some sort of joke.

"I agree with you. Personally, I think that's the best part." Mary firmly believes that it is better to give than to receive. Most of the traditions that she has kept up, while she does enjoy them, are more for the benefit of Toby and Dean than anything else. She can understand how being in this city would make someone want to give more to the loved ones who are with them. They don't know how long anyone will be there for, and they might as well enjoy it while they can.

"There's not a right or a wrong way, you know. You should do whatever feels right to you. Families tend to make their own holiday traditions, and I imagine that it'll be the same here. You can create your own protocols."

"Then I shall look forward to it."

The idea of doing what felt right was entirely alien, entirely illogical. For Spock, there was always a correct solution and an incorrect solution, and it was simply a matter of selecting the appropriate action and carrying it out correctly.

"I am unfamiliar with the concept," he admitted, "Though the humans on my ship will assist."

Alhough they would first have to recover from the shock of seeing him celebrate Christmas.

"Humans?" Mary smiles, noting that the way he refers to them is somewhat impersonal. "Are they your friends?" She isn't bothered by the suggestion that he's not human. She can tell that this man isn't out to hurt anyone, and has met enough people who were different from her to understand that there are plenty of them who aren't dangerous.

"I'm sure that they look forward to celebrating with you," she adds, wanting to offer him a little encouragement. Considering the way that the city looks, and how focused everyone is on Christmas, this has to be overwhelming to someone who has never experienced the holiday before.

"Yes." In ordinary circumstances, he would have deliberated a little more and spent some time examining his relationships with the Captain and Doctor McCoy. (And, indeed, his relationship with Nyota, which had passed friendship some time ago.) Presently, however, he was filled with holiday cheer and a great deal of affection for all of his crew mates.

"I hope so."

An unusual feeling, hope. Highly unusual.

"May I ask your name? I wish to give you a gift as well, to thank you for your assistance."

"That's not necessary, but I'm Mary. Mary Winchester." Names always slipped her mind when someone started off a tablet conversation with a question. She knew that she should have had better manners than that; Dean would have loved getting a chance to tease her for not being very polite, but she hadn't been thinking about it. "It's nice to meet you, but I didn't get your name, either."

"I am Spock," he said. He was already aware that the gesture was unnecessary. In fact, Christmas was, in itself, an unnecessary display of affection with tentative links for human religious holidays. "Are you a recent arrival in Taxon?"

"Well, I'll be damned."

McCoy actually needed to see this to really believe it; God bless those damned tablets that he can barely use on a daily basis as he looks through the visual feed in glee. And no, he has not had an encounter with Buddy at all. Oh, he won't be letting this go. Ever.

Thanks to Buddy, Spock is unable to find fault with his actions. As far as he is concerned, it is perfectly logical to research Christmas and it is perfectly logical to celebrate it with all necessary enthusiasm.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor McCoy," he said, with carefully measured cheer. "I have yet to select an appropriate gift for you, but my research is proving to be most productive."

"I'm recording that." McCoy replied to the seasonal greeting from his usually taunt crewmate, becoming somewhat worried with the festive cheer that was running rampant around Taxon and the smiles that appeared to be contagious. "What adhesives have you been sniffing, Spock?"

"I have not," he countered. He had no objections to the recording, particularly if it would help Doctor McCoy enter into the spirit of the holiday. "I was crossing the city when I encountered an individual who encouraged me to research and celebrate Christmas. It was logical to address the network and request advice."

"Protocols?" Kirk echoed, looking caught in between shock and confusion as if his face is unsure of which expression to settle on. He'd seen hints of emotion in Spock before-- anger in this one and other things in his much older counterpart from another timeline that he'd met on Delta Vega-- but this was...new. Spock looked happy and he was asking about Christmas of all things.

Though part of him suspected it was probably on behalf of his human mother, he asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"I wish to celebrate Christmas," he said, and, after a pause, he offered Kirk a brief smile. It was genuine enough, but it required unfamiliar muscles and a great deal of effort and thought on Spock's part. He could not sustain it. Not yet.

"It is a most intriguing holiday."

Both his eyebrows shot up. Spock, wanting to celebrate Christmas? And there was something about that smile on his face that unsettled him. Sure, he may crack jokes about Spock needing to act a little more human, but he was so used to the guy being the epitome of stoic. Such a sudden change was a bit scary, but he was sure the novelty of that would ware off soon and be replaced by amusement. Give it time.

"Your mom didn't do anything to celebrate it when you were a kid?" Just because his mother was human didn't necessarily mean she recognized that old holiday, but that seemed like the best place to start.

"No. She did not wish to further isolate me from my classmates."

It was one of the many concessions she had made following his birth. Amanda Grayson had loved her son unconditionally. She had certainly loved him enough to sacrifice aspects of her human life that she would have enjoyed sharing in different circumstances. Spock had been grateful for that, once he was old enough to appreciate the nuances of her behaviour. Now, however, he felt as if he had missed out on a vital childhood experience.

"Captain. Is it necessary for me to request permission to decorate the bridge?"

"Oh. Of-of course." He still felt a bit uncomfortable bringing up Spock's mother after he had used Amanda as a way to spark an emotional response in the Vulcan following the destruction of his homeworld. "I'm the wrong person to be asking about Christmas, Spock. We didn't-- It wasn't something my family really did."

Winona had the few Christmases she wasn't out in deep space, but Frank? Not so much.

"Considering you're in command at the moment? Not at all."

His mood went sour again, recalling the fight with Bones that had resulted in the doctor relieving him of command due to being emotionally compromised by his issues with the holiday that were only made worse by a run in with a glitch he just found out was a glitch.

"Then perhaps you will consent to celebrate it here with the rest of the crew?" he queried, and, if he had not attempted to school his features, he would have appeared almost eager. Though he did not know why he found Christmas so intriguing, he could not shake his intense desire to celebrate it.

"I will not select decorations that will interfere with the operations of the bridge, Captain," he assured him, though the statement was made for his own benefit rather than Kirk's. Christmas was not logical or practical, but Spock was and he was struggling to combine the two contradictions.

[ooc: since Christmas Eve is when she ended up unglitching...]

"Spock?"

Spock's behavior and what he's asking about doesn't seem to fully register with Uhura as she answers - in fact, she looks pretty panicked.

"Where are you? Are you on the bridge?"

Edited 2009-12-29 03:40 (UTC)

OOC: Perfect timing ...

"Nyota," he replied, with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. He was always pleased to see her, but his response to her presence was usually a little more taciturn. "I am in my quarters. I will proceed to the bridge when I have had an opportunity to hatch appropriate decorations."

He understood that decorations were considered traditional. Without them, his Christmas celebrations would lack the necessary emotional impact.

"You appear to be troubled."

Her distress penetrated his bubble of holiday cheer, at least, but he was still a little distracted by thoughts of tinsel and electronic lights.

"I think I've just been unglitched," she informed him, her fingers coming up to rub at her temple. "I can't remember most of what happened and I don't know where I am. You've...we've spoken in the past couple of weeks. What did I say to you?"

It took her a second to realize what he'd said and when she did, she looked back up with a small frown. "Decorations? You mean Christmas decorations?"

"I was aware of your condition," he said. Aware of and extremely concerned by, but, with his thoughts currently occupied by Christmas, he did not see fit to mention as much. "I hope it will not have a negative effect on your Christmas celebrations. Our communications were unusual, but your concern is unnecessary."

"Yes. They are necessary for the enjoyment of the holiday."

"It...shouldn't," she replied, putting a hand to her temple as she tried to recall the date she had glitched. Christmas wasn't that close, wasn't it? "What day is it? How long was I like that?"

Despite her troubled mind, his insistence that the bridge be decorated for the holiday made her smile. "I wouldn't say they're necessary, but they do help set the mood."

"It is Christmas Eve," Spock answered, "I am aware that I am conducting my investigations with little margin for error, but I will have adequate time to decorate the bridge and prepare the gifts for the crew. Your condition persisted for a number of days."

Each day had brought with it a number of illogical and unpleasant emotional responses, with concern predominant among them. However, in the face of Buddy's holiday cheer, such things appeared to pale into insignificance. She was here and safe and the festive season was upon them. That was all that mattered,

"And the mood is a necessary aspect of the holiday."

"A couple of weeks, at least, then," she said. The news was somehow both getting better and worse. She really wished she could remember what she'd done.

"Do you think you could beam me to the parts of the ship once you get there?"

Spock's reply, as brief as it was, was more reminiscent of his own behaviour than his contemplation of Christmas.

"It would appear that our captors vary the length of each glitch according to the effect they wish to create," he noted, "The subject would benefit from further study."

But not yet. Not until Christmas was over.

"I would be happy to do so. You are welcome to assist me."

"Sure," she said, nodding wearily. Anything to get her out of this place.

A short time later, Spock had hatched a selection of decorations and transported them to the bridge. He had worked with customary speed and practicality, but his excitement - unusual in itself - regarding the festive period eclipsed the concern he should have felt for Nyota.

When he was prepared, he stepped into the transporter room to bring her to the ship. The bridge was dominated by a bare Christmas tree and there was an unusual expression that may have been anticipation on Spock's face.

Uhura wasn't as opposed to being beamed to different places as Dr. McCoy was, but she still preferred to keep her eyes closed as it was happening - it made the experience less disorienting. When she arrived on the transporter pad, she'd never been so relieved.

She stepped off quickly and all but ran to Spock, grasping at his forearms before embracing him tightly.

"It's good to see you," she murmured softly.

He smiled – briefly, uncertainly but sincerely – when Uhura materialised, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her. Although he was frequently more relaxed in her company than he was in other situations, Spock was a little too relaxed at the moment. There was something eerie, perhaps even a little feverish, about his attention to the Christmas tree, which he indicated at the first possible opportunity.

”And I am pleased to see you,” he said, “Do you believe it is adequate? I have not decorated yet ..."

She pulled back and looked over her shoulder, where the Christmas tree was standing, and smiled in spite of her distressed state of mind.

"It looks good," she said, squeezing his forearms lightly. "You picked a good spot for it. What kind of decorations did you find?"

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