Chapter Text
Uhura and Spock sat at the table in the back room of The Coffee Shop, counting the proceeds from the Winter Carnival and the donations they were given. Bones stood against the wall with Sulu and Scotty, huddled close in the cramped space, watching the counting anxiously. The ice sculpture competition had begun a half hour ago, so Jim was out in the square with the other competitors, while Chekov worked hard in the front-of-house, keeping the shop running. Uhura had considered closing The Coffee Shop, but it was too close to Market Square and the competition grounds, so it was too good of an opportunity for business to miss out on.
Everyone’s ears perked up when the clicking of coins and shuffling of paper bills ceased, and Uhura and Spock compared numbers. Spock’s face remained neutral, but Uhura couldn’t help but suck air through her teeth anxiously.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Scotty said. “What’s the count?”
“It’s close,” Uhura said, taking a deep breath. “It’s not there, but it’s close. Close enough that we might be able to make it.”
Scotty and Sulu leaned forward, examining the matching numbers written down at the bottom of Uhura and Spock’s tally sheets. Sulu whistled. “That’s more than I expected we’d get from the carnival. There weren’t as many people this year because of the cold.”
“There were a lot of donations,” Uhura explained. “Some were quite generous. There’s a couple people who I am going to owe a lifetime of free coffee to, I think…. If we can make the target, that is.”
“Guess we should tell Jim he’d better win,” Sulu said, jokingly. Then, more seriously, he added, “I hope he wins, between this and the prize money we would have enough to buy off Old Man Janson.”
“And without a minute to spare,” Scotty said grimly. “Maybe we should try and get a few more donations.”
Uhura nodded. “I’ll go tag Pav out and get him to put out some fancy graphics on social media. Show everyone how much we’ve raised and how close we are to staving off Walmart. Might encourage some more donations.”
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do for the next two hours,” Sulu complained, grimacing. “All there is to do now is wait. The jitters are killing me.”
“I know a way to take care of those jitters and kill two hours,” Scotty said, miming drinking from an invisible bottle. Sulu gave him a very confused look, and was about to say something when Uhura interrupted him.
“He means going for drinks,” she said hurriedly.
“Ohhh!” Sulu said, relaxing visibly. “I thought he meant-”
Again, Uhura cut him off, “I don’t care how you guys spend the next two hours. Go have some fun, you’ve earned it.”
Sulu turned to Scotty and shrugged. “I could certainly use a drink.”
“Good man,” Scotty said, clapping Sulu on the shoulder before turning his attention to Bones, Spock and Uhura. “What about you three?”
Uhura rolled her eyes. “I have a business to run, you all go ahead.”
“I should be getting back to the competition,” Spock said. “I am supposed to be working on an article about it.”
“Let me guess,” Bones said sarcastically when Scotty and Sulu looked at him expectantly. “The local bar is called ‘The Bar,’ isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” Scotty said. Everyone looked at Bones blankly, as if they didn’t get the joke that was the naming of all things in this universe.
Bones shook his head, letting it go. “Fuck it, I’m in. Lead the way.”
Seven o’clock was nearing when Bones, Scotty, and Sulu joined Uhura, Spock, and Chekov on the outskirts of Market Square. The sculptors were still hard at work, their creations yet unseen, hidden behind booths constructed from light plywood.
“What’s the count?” Scotty asked Uhura, his voice slurring a bit.
She sighed. “Close but no cigar,” she said, hugging herself against the cold. “I think it’s up to Jim, now.”
“What’s he making?” Bones asked.
Spock shrugged. “He wouldn’t say.”
Sulu noticed that Chekov was there too, and asked, “Who's running the shop?”
“I closed up a few minutes ago,” Uhura said. “With the count so close, we all wanted to be out here for the judging. Witness the verdict of our fates.”
“That, and we’re so anxious that we cannot keep orders straight,” Chekov added, shuddering.
A loud bell rang out across the square, marking seven o’clock, and there was a call for the contestants to put down their tools. Then, one-by-one, the plywood walls were removed from each sculpture, prompting ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the crowd that had gathered to watch the judging.
Sulu sucked air through his teeth as an ice lion was revealed. “Some of these are pretty impressive,” he said anxiously.
The group watched with baited breath as Jim’s sculpture was revealed. When the plywood dropped, they all turned to stare at Spock, who had raised his eyebrows in surprise. Bones and Uhura exchanged a knowing glance as Chekov let out a low whistle and Scotty said, “Jim's quite the Michael Angelo.”
A little tipsy, Sulu turned to him and said, matter of fact, “If he were Michael Angelo we’d be seeing a lot more dick- Ow!” He complained when Uhura punched him in the arm.
Jim spotted them all looking at him and shrugged at them sheepishly. His face was red, which may have been from the cold, but Bones had a feeling it had a lot more to do with Jim’s very detailed, true-to-life sculpture of Spock.
The last of the sculptures were revealed, and as the judges made their rounds visiting each one, Bones felt something small hit him in the back of the head. He pivoted and looked down to see a pine cone, and when he looked up to see if he could spot who threw it, he sighed, and parted from the group to join her.
“It’s past seven,” the Christmas Hag said as he approached.
“I know,” Bones sighed, realizing that he was probably doomed to stay in this godforsaken universe for the rest of eternity.
“You’ve given it a good go. I’m impressed, really,” she said, patting him on the shoulder consolingly. Bones wasn’t really sure what to say, but the Hag wasn’t done. “I’ll give you one more hour.”
He looked at her, surprised, and narrowly avoided rolling his eyes at her smug grin. “Thanks,” he said, too relieved to be snarky.
A loud applause erupted from the square, and the Hag clapped him on the shoulder. “You’d better head back. Looks like the town’s been saved.”
Bones looked over just in time to see Uhura nearly knock Jim flat as she rushed to hug him. She said something to him, and it must have been the news that they had enough money to buy Old Man Janson’s land, because Jim’s face lit up and he hugged her back tight, lifting her feet off the ground. Bones glanced back at the Hag, but she was gone, so he jogged back to the square, catching up to Spock, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov as they headed for The Coffee Shop to meet with Mr Janson.
Chekov unlocked the door and the five of them stepped inside, waiting for Uhura, Jim, and Mr Janson in the warmth of the building. They were all giddy with relief, except for Spock, who still looked a little stunned about the sculpture. There were whistles and cheers from the little group when Jim walked in, followed closely by Uhura.
“Way to go, Jim!” Sulu said, clapping Jim on the shoulder. The congratulations were cut short when the bells above the door rang and a thin old man that Bones assumed was Mr Janson stepped in.
“Mr Janson!” Uhura called, grinning and waving a hand over her head. “We have the money!”
Mr Janson’s face showed no emotion. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he said, and a hush fell across the room. “I know that we had an agreement, but I have been offered triple the original amount, and I’m afraid I cannot sell my plot to you.”
There was a stunned silence for a moment before anyone could react. “But,” Uhura said, voice cracking. “We had a deal! You can’t go back on that!” She argued, her voice growing angrier by the word.
Mr Janson threw his hands up, as if there was nothing he could do about the despair that had flooded the room. “I’m sorry,” he said in a way that suggested that he was not very sorry at all, “But I didn’t sign anything. It wasn’t an official deal, and I’m not legally obligated to hold myself to that.”
Uhura collapsed into a chair, putting her head in her hands. Scotty patted her shoulder gently, and Chekov bit his lip, trying to hold back tears. Jim and Sulu didn’t react, still trying to process that the rug had been pulled out from under them. With nothing left to say, Mr Janson turned to leave the silent room.
“Mr Janson,” Spock called from the back of the room, prompting everyone, including Mr Janson, to turn toward him. Bones eyed the device Spock was holding up. Some sort of rectangular device with two spools of shiny tape behind a clear window, buttons labelled with various symbols studding one edge. With all eyes on him, Spock pressed one of the buttons, and voices emerged from the box.
'So we have a deal, then?' Came a tinny version of Uhura’s voice.
'We have a deal. Good luck' Mr Janson’s voice replied.
Spock switched the tape recorder off, looking at Mr Janson. “I have the entire meeting recorded, if it is required.”
There was another stunned silence, and Bones asked Spock quietly, “Are recordings legally binding?”
Spock tilted his head in a nod. “They are in this universe. Of course, Mr Janson is welcome to challenge it in court…”
Mr Janson let out a heavy sigh. “The land is sold… to you,” he said with gritted teeth, and all at once a weight was lifted from the room as tensed shoulders relaxed in giddy relief.
In a flash, Jim had Spock by the shoulders, beaming at him. “Spock! You’re a genius!” He exclaimed, and was unable to stop himself from pulling Spock into a tight hug. Spock tensed, then relaxed a second later, tentatively returning the embrace.
The arrangements were made, Mr Janson left The Coffee Shop, and Uhura had revealed a surprise stash of champagne, insisting that they celebrate. It was a small party of only seven people, but it was a lively one. Which made it very easy to lose track of time. “Oh, shit,” Bones hissed as he checked the clock. He had two minutes before his extra hour was up. He had completely forgotten about his objective after the roller-coaster of the past hour.
“What is it?” Sulu asked, having heard him.
Bones didn’t answer, he was too busy frantically trying to think of something. 'What was it that those stupid movies like to use?' He thought, looking around the room, hoping to spot anything that would give him an idea. Then his eyes locked onto a conspicuous bunch of leaves hanging from the ceiling.
“Hey, you okay?” Sulu asked, waving a hand in front of his face.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bones said distractedly before taking off towards Jim, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him away from Chekov and Scotty. With his other hand he grabbed Spock, who was on the other side of the room talking to Uhura, and he dragged his two confused friends to the spot he had scoped out, planting them under the decoration.
Jim and Spock both looked at him, confused, so Bones pointed to the ceiling. “Oh hey look, mistletoe!” He said with mock surprise before dashing away, leaving them to stand there awkwardly.
“Ooooooooooooooooooo,” Sulu teased, breaking the confused silence in the room and encouraging everyone else to egg on the poor suckers caught under the mistletoe.
Jim, face flushed, tried to wave down the drunk hecklers. “Oh come on, guys. Don’t pressure poor Spock into doing anything he doesn’t want to,” he scolded.
Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think I don’t want to?”
Jim blinked, sputtering. “Well I mean… Uh…” His face flushed more, and Spock shook his head in amusement, before placing a gentle hand on Jim’s face and leaning in to kiss him. After a moment of being stunned, Jim kissed him back with enthusiasm, pulling himself in closer to Spock much to the delight of the drunken onlookers. As Uhura let out an impossibly loud wolf whistle, Bones whipped around to look at the clock just in time to see it click over to eight o’clock. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized that he had made it.
He looked back at Jim and Spock, gagging when he saw that they were getting a little too into it, and averted his gaze by way of rolling his eyes. In doing so he caught a flash of red outside the window, and focusing on it, he saw the figure of the Christmas Hag outside, across the street from The Coffee Shop. He casually walked to the door, then looked around the room to see if anyone was watching before quietly opening the door and slipping out into the cold night air. The Christmas Hag was waiting on the other side of the street, leaning against the building. She gave him a two fingered salute when she saw him, and he nodded back, stepping out into the street towards her.
It happened too quickly for him to register. He was crossing the dark street before suddenly being caught in a flood of light. He froze in place, a deer in the headlights, only able to turn his head to see the moving truck hurtling toward him, the name Enterprise emblazoned above its windshield, and then the world was nothing.
He woke up, blinking against the bright white lights. Remembering what had happened, he shot up into a seated position, thinking he was in a hospital, or maybe purgatory. But as he got his bearings, he realized that he was on the Enterprise, in an empty corridor near sickbay.
He laughed to himself. “So it was a dream,” he said to himself, shaking his head.
“No, it was real.”
Bones shoved to his feet, wheeling around to face the voice. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Did you have to hit me with a truck to get me back here?”
The Christmas Hag, back in her ragged nightgown, grinned at him. “Uh, yeah. How else are you supposed to jump between universes?” She asked. “Anyways, you should be thanking me.”
Bones blinked at her in disbelief. “Thanking you?” He huffed in exasperation. “You punched me in the face, made me live in hell for three days, then hit me with a moving truck! What exactly am I supposed to be thanking you for?”
The Christmas Hag rolled her eyes. “For teaching you the true meaning of Christmas, obviously.”
“Wh-” Bones stuttered for a moment. “What meaning of Christmas? None of that had anything to do with Christmas!” He shouted at her. “Unless the true meaning of Christmas is following your annoying friends around in hell and using an unrealistic fundraising ploy to stop a Walmart from coming into town to wipe out the local businesses.”
The Hag shrugged. “Well it is those things. But you’re missing the most important one.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “Please, enlighten me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“The true meaning of Christmas,” the Hag said dramatically. “Is Spirk.” She met his glare with a pleased smirk.
Bones was very done and had nothing to say, so he raised his hand, flipping her the bird.
“Oh, there he is!” Bones looked over his shoulder at the sound of a voice behind him, and saw Jim and Spock walking down the hallway towards him. “We were wondering where you were,” Jim said, then gave Bones a curious look. “Who are you flipping off?”
Bones looked back to the Christmas Hag, who was, of course, gone. He retracted his middle finger and turned to his friends with a sigh. “No one.”
“Alright,” Jim said with a shrug. “Come on, Uhura insisted that we wait for you before we start the next movie.”
Bones’ knees buckled and he collapsed back onto the floor, letting out a tortured groan.
Jim put his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. “Bones is so dramatic, isn’t he?”
“Indeed,” Spock said, tilting his head curiously. “Perhaps there is something wrong with him.”
“Nah, he just gets like this when we watch Hallmark movies. He’ll live,” Jim said with a shrug. “Help me drag him back to the officer’s lounge.” Jim and Spock each grabbed one of Bones’ arms and dragged him down the corridor towards the turbo-lift. Bones became a dead weight out of protest, and shouted at them the whole way back.