Gifts Among Friends

Month 10 Day 25

1721 Hours

Bugalu

Bugalu and Mac each took a tray of dirty dishes to the receptacle while their friends discussed in what order the presents should be opened. “I was surprised to see you prepared with gifts,” Bugalu told his adopted sister. “Knowing how strict your father was, even at Christmas...”

“Well, I knew from the Academy that what he had expected wasn’t ‘normal’. And my years on tugs showed me I didn’t want to sit on the sidelines. So I asked Tall Bear for some guidance.”

“You asked Bear? And you haven’t even adopted him. Yet.”

She shrugged. “He’s a nice guy. I don’t think he’d steer me wrong. And I find I like his company.”

“Careful, Mac, that’s beginning to sound like he might be dating material,” he teased.

Her face flushed. She moved a step closer and whispered, “He told me a date doesn’t always include sex.”

“True,” he agreed in surprise. “For me, as well.”

“Yes, but you’re already off the table,” she answered and led the way back.

“We decided to open the presents by their size,” Della greeted them. “The biggest gets opened first, and that would be this thing for Capac.” She moved the large lump of wrapping paper to a position in front of the navigator.

“Who is it from?” Capac asked, turning over the label. “It’s from Mac!” He looked up in surprise. “Thank you, Mac. I don’t know what it is yet, but I already like it.”

She gave him a smile that held just a hint of hardness to her chin. “You were not easy to find something for, Capac. I’m afraid it’s fairly generic.”

He tore open the paper, to reveal what looked like a chunk of crudely carved rock. “What... is it?” he mumbled.

“It looks like a prehistoric carving,” Abdulla stated. “Aren’t those usually of gods and goddesses?”

“It’s a replica of one,” Mac agreed. “I had fabrication make it. The original is in a museum in Peru. It’s from a people before the Incas.”

“I thought it was awfully light to be real rock,” Temple stated. “But it looks real.”

“Something from Peru,” Capac muttered, running his hands over the fake carving.

“Well, Mac gave that present, so now it’s time for her largest gift to be opened. And that looks like... this one.” Temple handed her a present to open.

And so it went, back and forth among the friends, with quite a lot of laughter and thank yous. The presents ran the gamut of ‘the usual’ for the most part; perfume or after-shave lotion, books, music chips, and so on. Except for the gifts given by Mac. She gave Beth a medical medallion; not suitable for wearing with her uniform, but perfect for partywear. Della got a hair comb with the engineering logo, and Abdulla got a large piece of intricate lace that she could use as a scarf or a shawl. She gave Bugalu a small plastic pot with a strange looking plastic plant, which he recognized immediately as a Venus Flytrap. “Fabrication had a lot of trouble making that look right, so don’t let it die!” she admonished her adopted brother.

He laughed at her nonsense. “I promise to somehow keep this not-alive plant from dying!”

Mac gave Yellow Dog a bracelet of polished stones, and presented Tall Bear with an arrow head.

“I appreciate the thought, Mac,” Bear told her. “Did you get the pattern for this from some museum back on Earth?”

“No, I got it from Dog’s arrows,” she answered.

“You have a bow with those arrows?” he asked the NAmerInd woman.

YD nodded slowly and said, “Art.”

“She keeps them on the wall over her bed,” Mac added.

“Maybe we should take our artwork and practice together sometime,” he suggested.

“Good,” Dog agreed, and handed Mac a present to open. Inside was a length of reddish-brown cloth.

“Umm, what is it?”

“Headband,” Dog answered.

“Hey!” Bear protested. “Trying to push her into my tribe?” Dog grinned, and Bear settled down. “Well, we could do worse,” he decided. “If you want to try wearing it, Red, I’ll teach you how to tie it. Don’t go tying a bow into it. And if nobody objects, I’d like to give her my present now. It kind of goes with what Dog gave her.”

“Kiss,” YD stated.

“What?” TB responded.

“Well, if you think Mac will let you, she is under the mistletoe,” Abdulla stated calmly.

Mac looked straight up and her face went absolutely white. By the time she lowered her face, she had developed red flags on her cheeks, and a determined look in her eyes. “Give me your hands,” She told Bear. He offered his hands, palms up, and she took a firm grip on them with her own, then looked him straight in the eyes. “Keep it simple,” she instructed softly.

“Brief,” Bugalu added.

Bear obligingly bent forward and touched his lips to hers. She didn’t resist, he didn’t try for anything more than that simple contact, and it seemed to go on for a long time. Then she suddenly pushed him away and stood up as so many emotions chased across her face so fast that Bugs couldn’t be sure what emotion was winning the race.

“I have to go,” Mac breathed hoarsely and headed for the exit.

Apparently, she wasn’t watching where she was going, for she ran into Bosiljevac, knocking him to the floor, and landing atop him. Bosiljevac wiped potatoes and gravy from his face. “Mac? What’s going on?”

Freyer, who had arrived with Bosiljevac, shoved her supper tray onto the nearest table and helped the Gaelunder to her feet. “What’s the matter, Mac?”

Mac was nearly in tears, and looked at the food smeared on the floor as Bosiljevac climbed to his feet. “Oh, space, look at this mess! I don’t have time to clean it up! I have to get out of here!”

“Well, then, go,” Bosiljevac urged. “It was my supper; I’ll clean it up.”

With a look of deep gratitude, Mac started for the doorway again. Wow. She’s never abandoned a mess of her own making before! She is really upset. And that was the most gentlemanly kiss anyone could have given her!

Christmas Day

Month 10 Day 25

1705 Hours

MacGregor

It had become traditional, on the day designated as ‘Christmas’ on the Fireball, for Captain Burke and her few selected friends to gather in the gaily decorated messhall at 1715 Hours, to exchange token gifts before they filled plates from the wonderful buffet laid out across the entire side of the room and shared the bottle of wine that Smitty inevitably gave Jane on this occasion.

Over the years, Drake had come to the conclusion that they arrived late for this meal because Jane used that last-minute hour to finally wrap their presents, but of course, he couldn’t prove that. And he inevitably arrived a little early, usually because he was hungry. But this time, he had an extra gift to give, and he had hoped he could hand it off without anybody making too big a deal out of it.

When he arrived, he had found Bugalu and his friends sitting at 2 tables pushed together, unopened gifts gathered in the middle as they joked and laughed over their meals. He had thought it would be simple enough for him to reach out and drop a small package in among the rest of them on his way to the table set aside for the captain, but before he could do that, Mac had greeted him very enthusiastically, leaving the others to also notice and greet him. Even Beth had wished him a rather chilly ‘Merry Christmas’. So with all this attention on him, he had decided to find Mac later and give her the present. Best not to set any tongues wagging.

Now Drake sat as his stomach began to growl, impatiently drumming his fingertips on the table as he waited for the others to finally arrive. Well, here we go again. Another bottle of scotch from Smitty. Unimaginative, but at least it’s something I like. He grinned at the gaily wrapped present on the table in front of him that bore Smitty’s name. It looks very similar to the one I wrapped for Mac. Wouldn’t it be a shame if I’d wrapped them and then accidentally got the wrong names on these particular two gifts? I’ll have to be suitably chagrined when he opens it. Wish I could suggest he make the exchange himself.

Warm lips pressed the corner of his mouth. “Merry Christmas, doctor.”

“What?” He turned to see a familiar blond bending over him. “Monroe, I don’t-“

“You’re under the mistletoe, doctor,” the woman explained, and moved off.

Mistletoe over the captain’s table? That’s got to be a mix-up. He glanced up. I’ve been sitting here for 5 minutes or more. You’d think someone - else - would have- His eyes grew large as he saw the sprig of greenery attached to an antigravity unit, wandering around the room at just below ceiling level. Well, what do you know? Now, who could have dreamed up... Mac! Who else? Just one more example of that infamous imagination of hers. The same brain that Smitty thinks doesn’t know a thing.

“Here already, Duck?” Jane asked, sliding into one of the empty chairs. “Was that a nurse kissing you?”

“The mistletoe was over me,” he explained.

Trying not to frown, she glanced overhead. “I don’t see any mistletoe.”

“It moves around,” he explained, searching the upper reaches of the messhall. “There it is, wandering towards the kitchen.”

Jane glanced in that direction. “How does it move around like that?”

“I’m not an engineer,” Drake returned. “Ask Smitty. Or better yet, Mac. I suspect she’s the one who came up with them.”

Takor appeared at the side of the table, its arms full of several items wrapped in colorful paper and bows. “Please assist. I fear I may drop some of them.” Jane and Drake carefully helped it deposit the gifts onto the table with the others and it sat down in relief. “I hope I have chosen appropriate gifts. I did have assistance from my yeoman. She was particularly helpful in the wrapping stage.”

“I’m sure whatever you give us will be fine,” Jane told him. “Now, as soon as Smitty gets here, we can get this thing started. I’m especially hungry tonight, and can’t wait to get started on that turkey.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Smitty stated as he slid into the remaining empty seat. He started to hand Jane a package, looked at it closely, and gave it to Drake instead, then gave the other similar-sized package to Jane. The final package was flat and a bit floppy as he handed it to Takor. “I hope you all like them.”

“I’m sure we will,” Burke stated. “And I guess that means we’re starting, so first, let’s sort out which presents belong to whom.”

While they were doing that, someone started placing small plates of various appetizers on their table, and Drake looked up. “Yellow Dog! What’s this?”

She smiled, said, “Noel,” and placed a bottle of eggnog on the table.

“Thank you,” Smitty told her with a grin as he munched a celery stick and reached for the eggnog. “But you needn’t have.”

“You aren’t a servant,” Jane pointed out.

“Yes,” she agreed, and accepted a small package from Takor.

“Wait.” Takor picked up another package and held it out to her. “For Mac.”

The NAmerInd conversationally repeated, “Mac,” and half-way across the room, the redhead looked up. After a quick search through the packages on their double table, Mac trotted over and presented one to the Sciss.

“I’m so happy you decided to give me a gift, Takor. I know I’ll like it. I tried my best to create a family spiral for you that you could put on your wall. For decoration. But 3-d items work best in... well, in 3-d. I hope you like it anyway. Good night, sirs, and... Merry Christmas.” She took the gift Takor offered her and the 2 ladies went back to rejoin their friends.

“A family spiral?” Jane asked her science officer.

“I believe a human would call it a family tree.”

“This is nice,” Smitty stated. “Very tasty.” A smudge of white on his upper lip showed that he had taken a healthy swig of eggnog from the glassful that he had poured himself.

“We’d better get these presents opened,” Drake suggested. “So Smitty can get some food in his stomach along with that eggnog.”

Christmas Eve

Month 10 Day 24

0632 Hours

Smythe

 As Smitty walked down the corridor, he was surprised to see a long line of men along one bulkhead; Capac, Tall Bear, Chafin, Urbandowski, among others. As he neared the head of the line - which appeared to be just outside a privacy room - he saw Takor emerge from that privacy room, looking dazed and... mussed. “Fascinating,” The Scissan muttered. He had a strange smirk on his face as he staggered off down the hall.

“What’s going on?” Smythe wondered.

“Next,” came a soft call from inside. Despite the protests of the men in line, Smythe entered, stopped short at the sight that greeted him. The lights were dim, but there was no mistaking the redhead in the bed, a sheet draped over most of her naked body. “Oh, dear, I wasn’t expected you just yet, but... I can be flexible.”

“What are you doing?” he demanded, fighting the urge to climb into bed with her.

She smiled. “It’s difficult to do any shopping on a ship, even one this size. I’ve been forced to give the same present to a number of people.” She moved the sheet aside to reveal her fantastic body. “I’ll make it extra special for you.”

“Yes,” he heard himself agree. Unable to resist any longer, he stumbled across the room and- He sat bolt upright as the alarm went off.

He remembered the dream vividly, especially the breast he’d been reaching for. If he hadn’t gotten so accustomed to being startled awake in the middle of similar dreams, he’d be looking around his bedroom, wondering where she was. His organ throbbed painfully with desire for the promiscuous tart of his dream. Blast! Another cold shower this morning!

Resigned to his fate, he tossed his bed clothes aside and started for the bathroom. Presents. Space, yes, it’s Christmas again. I’ll have to wrap the presents I’ve been storing since shore leave. A bottle of scotch for MacGregor, wine for Jane, a tape of Scissan poetry for Takor, that book for Anna, a hair comb for Adbulla. I should have gotten something for- No, best I haven’t. A present for Abdulla is risky enough, but as least she’s been here for years. But to single out another young woman as well... Especially one who’s... that one. Anyway, I’m sure she hasn’t anything for me, so...

“I’ll make it extra special for you.” No, not even that. Especially not that! She’s too busy with Bugalu. And if she gets a moment’s respite from him, MacGregor’s waiting for his chance. Not to mention all those others waiting in the hallway... He hesitated before stepping into the cold water of his shower. No, that was a dream.

Wasn’t it?

He gave a brief yelp as cold water sluiced down his body, temporarily ending all thought except the need to get out and get dry and warm again. He shoved that thought away, determined to punish himself, it seemed. It must have been a dream.

Even after an icy cold shower, he found himself thinking about her, about the dream. It was getting harder and harder to relegate these dreams to someplace where they wouldn’t bother him. I’ve got work to do! I can’t spend my entire day thinking about her! A walk, that’s what I need. A brisk walk about the ship before breakfast. He dressed quickly and left his quarters for the walk, turning corners and riding the turbo-lift to another deck as whim dictated, without any real thought given to his choices.

I’m over-stimulated, he decided. I’m sure I have these... sexual dreams every Monday night, after spending the evening in the company of 3 beautiful, intelligent women, all of them wearing D2 uniforms, which is basically shorts and an abbreviated top. And for all that we’re working hard on our project, there’s plenty of joking and laughing, which I’m not used to in a work environment. So I relax into the moment, without realizing that my subconscious is soaking up all the sexual stimulation from the D uniforms. Then I return to my quarters, have a nightcap and then... spend the night in a purgatory of anticipatory delight.

Maybe I should forget the nightcap before I go to bed. On Mondays, anyway.

Would I even manage to fall asleep without them?

What about all those dreams I had before we started this project? Those can’t be explained quite so easily, can they? And if I’m going to blame these dreams on D2 uniforms and the presence of 3 beautiful ladies, why do my dreams only ever involve one woman? Forbidden fruit, one could claim, but all of these ladies are in my chain of command, and therefore forbidden to me. If my subconscious is so concerned with longing for what is ethically forbidden to me, then why not divide its attention among all of them? Why concentrate on one?

So it seems that isn’t the problem. Of course it’s not as simple as that. And just because I’ve been having these types of dreams the last couple of Monday nights doesn’t mean I don’t have them any other night of the week.

Wonder if I could convince them somehow to wear D1 uniforms? Long sleeves and long pants would at least keep them well covered. Of course, every curve would show, so they’d all be like... presents, just ripe for unwrapping- Blast!

He hurried back to his quarters to take yet another cold shower before he headed for breakfast. And a fast breakfast it would have to be.