Title: TO REACH THIS SEASON
Author: J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Star Trek TOS; Slash; Spock-McCoy; Holiday Fic (Chanukah)
Summary: Kirk helps Bones see Spock's dual-heritage in a new light.
Feedback: Any and all welcome!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own STAR TREK
Bones leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Damn it Jim, I'm not asking Spock to find God."
Kirk grinned, trying to imagine Bones in a relationship with anyone who had, ah, found God. "I think it'd be inconvenient for you if he did—you're too comfortable as an agnostic."
"Exactly," he agreed, smiling a little in return.
The two men were sitting in Kirk's cabin. They were each seated on opposite sides of a table with a bottle of Saurian brandy and two half-filled glasses between them. Kirk picked up his glass and took a long, slow sip.
"But I can't stand to see him ignore and dismiss every part of his human heritage," Bones continued. "He's a Jew through Amanda—it wouldn't kill him to light a menorah once in his life."
Kirk considered that. He understood where Bones was coming from on this—it did seem a shame to watch Spock ignore his human half. Especially around the holidays. If Spock had it his way, he'd skip all the parties and wind up meditating alone in his cabin.
On the other hand, though, he sympathized with Spock as well. It wasn't easy to juggle two contradictory backgrounds. He couldn't blame Spock for choosing his Vulcan half and sticking with it.
"I can't think why Amanda never taught him this stuff," Bones went on. "Why didn't she raise him to celebrate more of his human history?"
Kirk set his glass down and frowned at his friend. "I don't know about that. I think Amanda might have done the right thing."
The doctor narrowed his eyes at him. "You can't mean that, Jim-boy. Would you have wanted your folks to choose either Christmas or Chanukah, instead of raising you on both?"
"Sometimes," he answered.
"Why?" Bones demanded. "One's not better or worse than the other."
"I didn't say it was," Kirk snapped. "Look, Bones, it's not always easy to find your way around two separate heritages. I'm not comparing my situation to Spock's, but even I got tired of trying to figure what the hell I was back when I was growing up."
Bones stared at him. "Was it that big a deal?"
Kirk looked away for a moment and then shrugged. "We didn't belong to a synagogue, we didn't belong to a church, but we celebrated both sets of holidays and managed to annoy both sets of grandparents."
He paused, frowning again. "If I got confused as a kid, and sick of all of it, imagine what it must have been like for Spock. For God's sake, his parents were from two different planets. I think Amanda had to make sure that he got one consistent upbringing—even if that meant shortchanging his human half."
Bones had picked up his own glass, but he set it down slowly at that. "I hadn't thought of it that way," he owned. "Jesus—I suppose I owe that hobgoblin an apology. I've been on his back about this for a while."
"Look, why don't you leave it up to him?" Kirk suggested. "I have a chanukiah here somewhere. I can dig it up. Invite him over tonight to light the candles and have some dinner. No pressure, no presents to worry about—and just the three of us. No big party. But if he says no, let it be."
Bones sighed, but at length he nodded. "Yeah—I'll do that. But leaving it up to him means we probably won't come."
Spock was stepping out of his sonic shower when he realized that Dr. McCoy had let himself into the room. Not only that, but the doctor was lounging on Spock's bunk, raising his eyebrows appreciatively at the sight that greeted him.
"You didn't have to put on that robe for my sake," the doctor informed him, his blue eyes dancing with delight.
Spock felt a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was relieved that the doctor no longer seemed upset with him, but he forced himself to remain stoic. "You have a remarkably one track mind, Doctor."
"Well, I like to keep my focus," the human explained. "Consider it a form of meditation."
"Indeed?" Spock asked. "Thorough concentration on sex is not a branch of meditation often taught on Vulcan."
"Well, it's not quite a traditional branch," McCoy admitted. "But maybe we should open up a school there dedicated to teaching it—it might be the next big thing. If nothing else, it ought to relieve the stress caused by an overdose of logic."
"I'm sure T'Pau would be delighted with the project," Spock pointed out dryly.
McCoy's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sarcasm becomes you, my love. Very well, we'll set that project aside for now and wait till we can wrap T'Pau around our finger."
"As I believe the human saying goes, that will require us to wait until 'hell freezes over.'"
"Probably. Come'ere you overgrown elf."
Spock complied by taking a seat on the bunk and leaning back against the wall as he wrapped his arms around his mate. He allowed his robe to fall open somewhat, so that the human could rest his head against Spock's bare shoulder and snuggle against his skin.
"I'm sorry I've been pushing you about the holidays," McCoy said suddenly. "We don't have to go to the holiday party and I'll stop hassling you about a menorah."
Spock raised his eyebrows at that, wondering what had brought about this change in the doctor. But the doctor, apparently, had decided to answer that himself.
"Look, Spock," he said. "I come from a long line of Southern Protestants. If a Methodist married a Baptist it was a big deal in my family...and that's about as adventurous as we got. I don't have the slightest idea of what it must be like to come from two completely different cultures. Given that, I had no right to push you to observe human traditions."
He paused for a moment and seemed to collect his thoughts. "Jim invited us over tonight to have dinner and light the Chanukah candles, but there's no pressure. We don't have to go. And if we do go, we don't actually have to light anything—"
"I do not object to going," Spock interrupted. "Nor do I object to joining the crew at the holiday party."
"You had lots of objections before," McCoy pointed out, shifting a little so that he could glance up at him.
"I objected to celebrating the holidays as if they are my own," Spock corrected. "They are not. But I do not object to celebrating them with you and Jim...or even the rest of the crew."
McCoy grinned. "Fair enough. Let's get dressed and head over there. The sooner we finish, the sooner I can get you back here and unwrap you."
Kirk glanced over at his two best friends as he set up the chanukiah. Both men were relaxed now, he noted with approval. Any squabbling between them must have been amicably settled. And he took full credit for that.
"Hey Jim," Bones called out from his seat, "what's that famous Jewish prayer? The one that's thankful that we all made it to this moment alive?"
Spock cocked his head at him. "I believe that is the gist of the Shehecheyanu."
"Yeah, it is." Kirk confirmed, grinning and thinking that it was a miracle these two had made it to this moment without killing each other.
"In fact," he continued, "we'll say a Shehecheyanu right now, in honor of the fact that we're lighting the candles for the first time this year: Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam shehecheyanu v'kiyimanu v'higi'anu laz'man hazeh. Amein. Blessed are you, Lord, our God, sovereign of the universe who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season. Amen."
"I'll say Amen to that," Bones said.
"As will I," Spock added, looking fondly at his lover despite his Vulcan austerity.
Kirk shook his head at the pair of them as he prepared the Shamash—the helping candle—for its duties. "Happy Chanukah, you two."