DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of T'Ryl and is copyright (c) 2002 by T'Ryl. Rated G.

Dear Santa


It had been a silly tradition on the Enterprise for years. Each crewmember wrote an anonymous letter to Santa Claus. It helped to bring in the holiday season. Once all the letters were completed, they were posted on the ships bulletin board system for all to read.

Sitting in his quarters he skimmed through each of the letters, until he came on one that caught his eye.

"Dear Santa,

"I have all I need and I want very little. What my true Christmas wish is this year I'm afraid you can't give. 'Love' -- four simple letters. Some can say like there's no tomorrow without feeling it; others like myself are full of it yet it goes nowhere. My mother always taught me I can't make someone love me. I tried for years to prove her wrong; now, however, I see she's right.

"My Christmas wish for this year is to have the one I love return that love. Even if it's just for one day.


"Missing Love"

Without much thought he prepared a reply:

"Dear Missing Love,

"Love, is something some cannot express freely. It does not mean they do not wish they could love. The gift you are asking to have delivered cannot be found in wrapping and bows on Christmas morning, it takes time to blossom. Yet, I shall do my best to grant your request.


Once finished, he contacted his mother; she had the perfect item he needed. What she didn't have he would find. All he need do now was wait.

* * *

Days passed into weeks, until the day came that the very special package arrived, and just in time for the Christmas party. He pulled out the neatly folded jacket, pants and spats. He laid them on his bunk and looked for the tell-tale sign of what he wanted. When he picked it up, it was just as he remembered, soft and silky. The other part of his gift wrapped in a most exquisite red foil paper, topped with an elaborate bow he had constructed him, signed simply "Love S.C.".

With the party underway, he would be fashionably late. Nothing unusual. Normally he chose not to attend parties. With his elaborate attire in place, he stood in front of his full-length mirror satisfied he looked nothing like his true self. With a nod to his reflection, he picked up the small gift he had so carefully packed.

* * *

The party had been in full bloom when he arrived. Scanning the partakers, he found the certain someone he had gone to these lengths to please. As he strolled over to her, he was stopped by a voice. "Well, Santa, it's nice to see you made it." Dr. McCoy stood smiling at him, with no sign of recognition beyond the fact he was Santa Claus.

With an unnoticeable sigh, he nodded. It would not do for anyone to hear his voice just yet. He continued to make his way to the reason he had come. With a smile, he reached for her hand. Pulling her to a standing position, he walked her to the dance floor. The slow music made for a most romantic dance.

She began to speak, her deep blue eyes quite confused. "Who..."

All he could do was to silence her with a kiss. There would be enough time for words later. He was sure the entire ship would say something at some point.

He held her tight in his arms as they floated around the dance floor. He had never imagined, holding her for him rather than for others would feel so exhilarating.

They danced the entire evening together; as the party wound down, he removed the dainty package, handing it to her. Watching her with anticipation, he had never felt before.

She lifted the delicate earrings out of their box. The tiny gold IDICs with a diamond chip on the triangle's top, where sure to give the giver away. A note beneath them that said, 'Be my love'. "Spock?" she asked with her eyes glowing brightly.

With a sweep of the hand he removed his hat, brows, and full length snow white beard. "Christine, I hope you now have what you asked Santa for."

She smiled, "I have more, all I asked Santa for was a bottle of 'Red Lace' Perfume."

Spock's face held the look of shock; how could he have read something into someone else's letter. Nevertheless, if it took a letter to Santa to help him see what could be his, then he was pleased.