O Christmas Tree

Posted on Wed Dec 29th, 2021 @ 11:04pm by Fleet Admiral Sturnack & Captain Jocelyn Blake

Mission: Episode 2: 18th and Constitution
Location: The Fortress, Pinetop, Arizona
Timeline: Mission Day 25 at 1630

[The Fortress]
[Pinetop, Arizona]
[MD 25, 1630 Hours]

The day had been filled with holiday trappings interspersed, periodically, with necessary bouts of work. The press had already begun to ask questions, a natural result of a public assassination attempt, but as Jocelyn's face was removed from the mix, speculation was high about what had happened. It had taken an hour just to be fully briefed by Jordan on the goings on of the press and another to formulate a strategy in collaboration with Admiral Andolini.

The Press Secretary was glad for the Admiral's presence. Admiral Ul-tan had been absent, still on leave after the bombing due to unexpected complications in her recovery. Knowing that Sal and Jordan were both there set her mind at least somewhat at ease though she chaffed at the thought of not being able to get in front of the press and address rumors directly.

Sturnack, too, had been called off to business several times and by the time that they finally came back to the dining table at the same time the sun was setting, brilliant orange and pink light reflecting across the snow and casting the cabin in its warm glow. In between her last bout of meetings Jocelyn had finally wrestled the tree into order. It stood, now, plugged into a wall socket to the left of the fireplace in a place of honor between the panes of one of the large bay windows. Warm white tree lights were wound around the limbs conspiring with the setting sun to make everything feel just a touch magical.

She moved to the table, surveying the ornaments in their detailed and well sorted categories, looking up from her perusal only when Sturnack reappeared from his room. Her eyes met his, a warm smile on her face turning to a light blush. She had enjoyed the day, despite the interruptions and knowing that they were down to decorating the tree, was wrestling back a feeling of anticipation at the few minutes she was about to steal with him away from the press of work and assassinations and crises.

"All is under control...in as much as is possible, of course," Sturnack reported, seeming not to notice the blush. "The Admirals have been reporting in all day...they are doing well in our absence," he confirmed. "It would appear," the Vulcan said, arching his right eyebrow as he surveyed the remaining decorations, "we are down to just the tree." His gaze sweeping the open floor plan between the living room and the dining room, Sturnack took note of just how many decorative elements they'd festooned about the cabin. "Please explain the strategy for placing the ornaments," he said, eyes flicking between the tree and the ornaments arrayed on the table.

Jocelyn giggled, unable to keep the amusement off her features. "There is no strategy," she said with a laugh. "You just put them on. I mean... generally... you try to make sure they're not all clumped in one spot and you make sure heavier ones are pushed further back on the branch so they don't fall, but... in terms of aesthetic?" She came to a halt with a bemused shrug. "The tree looks different every year."

"No strategy?" Sturnack voiced with confusion, his eyebrow arching even further up. "I see," he trailed off, picking up the first ornament from his carefully sorted array. He fiddled with the hook, coming to hold the ornament by the tiny metal filament, causing it to dangle freely. "So you simply affix the ornament to a branch but hooking it on?" At Jocelyn's nod, Sturnack moved forward and placed the bauble on one of the lowest branches. Both sank to the ground given the weight of the ornament and the weakness of that particular branch. The Vulcan looked at Jocelyn with his usual brand of stoicism. "Is that supposed to happen?" he asked.

She giggled again, coming over to rescue the Vulcan. "Heavier ornaments on higher sturdier branches and further back in," she explained, taking the ornament from the branch and searching for the right one to affix it to. After a moment, rounding both sides of the tree, she spotted it, reaching up on tiptoes to tuck the metal hook around the branch several inches back. The bauble settled slightly, but held, gleaming next to a light.

"Like that," she said whirling to find she was far closer to him than she had remembered.

Sturnack was indeed close. The woman had leaned in toward him, reaching around to hook the ornament on the branch. The action brought her exceedingly close and, with a breath in, the Vulcan could taste Jocelyn's scent in the scant air between them. There was a throughput of vanilla clouded in the scent by fresh, clean soapy after-notes. With the sensitive nose of a Vulcan, the smell was strong but not unpleasant as Sturnack turned to regard Jocelyn's closeness.

Her grin faltered slightly then, surprise on her face, before she stepped back, eyes to the table.

"I...see," Sturnack offered, breaking the silence of the moment in reference to his earlier failure. "So the branches exhibit different levels of tensile strength depending on which branch and where the ornament is placed. Logical," he commented with a nod, moving to take the next ornament from his ordered layout. "This one is not as heavy as the last," the Vulcan said, using one hand to carry the frosted glass orb by its hook while his other hand tested the strength of several branches. He chose a spot on the tree's midsection, where the branches were longer than those on top but still fairly sturdy. The ornament swung back and forth slightly once placed. "Better?" he asked, looking at Jocelyn quizzically.

She came over placing careful distance between them, two ornaments selected randomly from the collection held in her hands. Her eyes stayed on the tree, frustrated with herself for noticing so much.

"Much better," she said, glancing in his direction with an encouraging smile. "Now we keep going until we're out of ornaments or out of room on the tree. Whichever comes first."

She studied the tree again, circling until she could see the back. She found an appropriate posterior branch, settling the first ornament on it and then glancing out the window, catching the reflection of the tree in the window to confirm that it looked right. She hoped the security officers that were, unquestionably, hidden out in the cold snow would be cheered by it. A small sad feeling coiled in the pit of her stomach as she thought it. They were here because she and Sturnack were here. But perhaps they had families they would like to be with. She suspected at least some of them might be humans who celebrated one of the several festive holidays of the season.

Blowing out a breath she turned back to the tree, coming around again and setting her next ornament down lower.

"I understand," Sturnack nodded, watching Jocelyn place another ornament. He returned to the table, this time stalling before he picked another to place himself. Where he was going in order from left to right on the first row he'd laid out, Jocelyn seemed to be picking ornaments from the collection at random. That struck him as particularly inefficient but the woman had seemed to enjoy the chaotic notion of a randomized, different-every-year tree. And since Sturnack was doing all of this for Jocelyn's benefit, he decided to select a couple of ornaments at random himself.

Approaching the tree -- an ornament in each hand -- the Vulcan carefully selected appropriate places for each. When they'd both been placed, he turned to move back to the table but found himself almost colliding with Jocelyn, who'd returned with ornaments of her own. Again he inhaled her scent but this time, the chemical reactions in his brain and body pulled at the edges of his control. He wanted to step closer, his foot slightly rising as the tree lights twinkled behind him.

Just one step forward. That's all it would take to bring himself against her; to bring himself in contact again. As heat passed between the two of them, the Vulcan's face flushed then with green -- an autonomic response he didn't seem able to control. Sturnack seemed unsure of how to break away but lowered his foot, instead backing up and gesturing Jocelyn towards the tree. "I...am sorry. I did not realize you were there," he said softly.

She was frozen, her own cheeks flushing, as her hands held her ornaments out to either side, the effect making it look a bit like she was about to hug him. Sturnack had backed away, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot, a spark of awareness running through her in a way that wasn't unpleasant, but was entirely inconvenient. Sturnack's body language seemed conflicted, like his limbs had decided on a course of action that his categorically logical brain did not agree with.

"You don't have to apologize," her tone matched his in softness, but her eyes watched him carefully. "I should have been more careful."

And like that the moment broke and she darted around him, staring down the tree as her cheeks flared a deep red. She moved around to the back again, hoping the move would give her a minute to breathe... to think... to collect whatever semblance of reason she had in her brain. What was she doing?

Sturnack, meanwhile, had hastened himself over to the table. His eyes scanned the arrayed ornaments but his own breathing was slightly quickened. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes while turned away from Jocelyn to run through a quick mental exercise to restore control. Breathing slowly in and out, it was a few moments before he turned around again, ornaments in hand and some balance restored. Even so, he knew that his medication was not working as well as it had been. And if he was going to be cloistered with Jocelyn for who knew how long, that was a problem indeed. He would need to speak with Doctor Cowell and soon.

Continuing his sublimated breathing -- the act having returned to subconscious control -- Sturnack returned to the tree, taking great care to give Jocelyn an ample amount of clearance. The two continued their decorating dance of placing ornaments, returning for more, and then doing it all again many times over. It took time but the tree was slowly filling up with ornaments...to the point that it was beginning to become difficult to find new places to put more. But the Vulcan did not shy away and continued looking for spots as he roused discussion.

"Jocelyn, I am, of course," Sturnack noted, "aware of your preference for coffee. Does your liking of hot beverages extend to other kinds of organic suspensions? The Admiral left behind packets of something called 'hot chocolate.' I recall him saying it was an essential staple during this particular time of the year. Would your experience be enhanced by making some?"

From her spot a foot or two to his right she placed a particularly pretty stained glass star, taking care to make sure it was in front of one of the lights so that it's artistry could easily be seen. She glanced over to him with a bemused sort of half grin. "Have you ever had hot chocolate?" she asked by way of answer.

"I have not," Sturnack said, shaking his head.

"I assume the packets are in the cabinet," she said, half grin expanding to a full smile. "I'll make it, you finish the last few ornaments."

She turned then, not waiting for him to agree before making a beeline for the kitchen, rifling through cabinets until she pulled out a small box of individual cocoa packets. They had mostly avoided using the replicator, but now she moved over, ordering a small bowl of real marshmallows. There was milk in the fridge which she poured into a sauce pan and set on the burner to heat. Lastly she pulled a chair over to the refrigerator, climbing up and opening the cabinet above. She had guessed at the contents of this cabinet the night prior, but hadn't confirmed.

"Jackpot," she whispered under her breath, snaking an arm out to grab a long necked bottle.

Jocelyn returned to the living room, bottle in hand, and held it up to see. "Any qualms with using the liquor over the fridge?" she asked, making sure it was ok to add before doing so.

Sturnack -- who was mid placement of an ornament -- looked back at Jocelyn with curiosity. "I did not realize liquor was an ingredient in hot chocolate. Is it meant to be an alcoholic beverage?" To her question, though, the Vulcan nodded his assent. "You are free to use whatever you like here, Jocelyn, of course." He returned to hanging the ornament, making sure it wasn't too heavy for the branch he had selected. "I believe we are almost done here," Sturnack said, eyeing the few ornaments left on the table.

"Do any of them look particularly sentimental or important?" she called over her shoulder as she returned to the stove, snagging a spatula to stir the milk. "If so then let's try to put those up, but the others can go back in the boxes."

A light steam had started to roll off the milk warning that it was warming rapidly. Quickly she stuck the tip of her pinky in, temperature testing, and then popped it in her mouth. Warm enough. Two mugs made their way to the counter, packets of brown cocoa mix emptied into their bottoms. A practiced hand poured the milk before she stirred both, topping them off with a dose of peppermint schnapps, and popped two marshmallows into each.

A mug in each hand she returned to the living room, turning Sturnack's mug so he could take the handle from her. "They're not alcoholic normally, no, but peppermint schnapps makes them a bit more seasonal and festive."

Sturnack looked at the few remaining ornaments, deciding that two looked ornate enough to merit special hanging. Lifting them, the Vulcan moved back to the tree and spent several long moments looking for just the right spots to place the ornaments. Once they'd gone on -- and once Sturnack was sure the branches would hold -- the man nodded with finality and returned to the table, packing the other ornaments away. With that done, he went back to look at the tree with an objective eye as Jocelyn came over with his mug.

Accepting the drink, Sturnack took a sip and analyzed the flavors. "It tastes...indulgently sweet," he said, swirling the hot liquid around in his mouth. "I particularly like the peppermint," he added. A bit of marshmallow fluff clung to his mustache as the Vulcan pulled the cup away from his lips, eyes sweeping the living room to take in the tree, the stockings above the glowing fireplace, and the other decorations they'd hung. "What is your assessment, Jocelyn? Have we reached peak, appropriate festiveness?"

Jocelyn's own mug had found her lips fairly quickly and she had taken a long sip of the warm sweet mixture. When her eyes returned to Sturnack, though, she barely managed to muffle a snort of amusement.

"You've... you've got some... uh..." she gestured at her own lip as if that was going to make it clear. That, evidently, was not effective, though, as the Vulcan looked over at her with an arched eyebrow. Her hand went to her mouth, stifling giggles, before she sighed, stuck her thumb in her mouth to wet it, and then reached up and rubbed marshmallow from his upper lip.

Sturnack's eyes widened in surprise as Jocelyn's thumb brushed his upper lip, swiping at the marshmallow cream he, himself, could not see. The touch set off so very many physiological reactions in the Vulcan. His heartbeat hastened, his blood quickened, and his body tensed. As close as she was, he could feel the heat from her body and that damned hint of vanilla filled his nostrils again. Sturnack lifted his hand on instinct, not to remove Jocelyn's but, instead, to gently brush against her arm. His eyes shone with the look of a man who wanted more.

She didn't even think about what she was doing, until it was too late. Giggles died quickly on her lips as a spark of... something... seemed to pass between them -- impossible to ignore. She withdrew her hand slowly, eyes dropping. "I... I'm sorry... that was..." her voice wavered between softness and nervousness. "There is... marshmallow... in your mustache," she said quietly.

Right hand going to his face, Sturnack felt the sticky cream come away on his finger. He held it before him, looking almost as if he were offering the fluff to Jocelyn to lick up. But before the moment could stretch any longer, the Vulcan stuck the finger in his own mouth and licked it clean. Lowering his hand, Sturnack inched forward, coming closer into the woman's space, his eyes cast down at her. "Thank you," he said softly, his tone neutral but his eyes intense. Could she hear the thump-thump-thumping of his heartbeat?

Her eyes had come back up to meet his when he didn't pull away his hand and she suddenly found it impossibly hard to look away. Her heart seemed determined not to cooperate and had, in concert with her lungs, stopped functioning as they should choosing instead to drop a beat and make breathing erratic. Her eyes shifted only enough to take in the finger he had used to wipe the marshmallow away, swallowing hard when he licked it clean.

The space between them closed slightly as he stepped in and she felt herself lean toward him. He smelled warm and clean and like something she couldn't place that could only be explained by whatever combination of chemicals were uniquely his.

"You're welcome," she breathed.

The moment burgeoned and beckoned, tempting Sturnack to do something...carnal; to move himself further towards the woman and close what little gap remained between them. But in as much as his body screamed and gnashed for contact, the Vulcan's mind reigned...for the time being, at least. Signals went ignored as deliberate breathing restored some of his control once more. The electricity in the touching faded as he lowered his arm from Jocelyn's and took a slight step back, giving him enough room to raise the mug of cocoa back up to his lips and take another sip.

"It is very good indeed," he nodded, pulling his eyes away from the woman to focus on the tree again. The tree was his salvation indeed for discussion around it allowed for the moving past of the awkward whatever it'd been that had passed between them. "You have yet to answer my question. Is it...festive enough here?" Sturnack asked again, reaching up to rub at his mustache some more.

Jocelyn was both grateful and disappointed by the shift in Sturnack's body language. Her own breathing remained erratic and her cheeks were flushed. Confusion reigned in that moment as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She was, certain, that if he had leaned just a touch closer she would have kissed him. Had wanted to. But... there were so many complications in that thought that she didn't even know where to begin.

She pressed her lips together, deliberately moving to take in the room, hot chocolate coming up to her lips to buy her a moment to respond. "Almost," she finally declared. She moved to a wall panel she had spotted earlier. The cabin itself was largely rustic, but the Fleet Admiral had been smart about a few things. With a quick dash of fingers across the interface a swell of music played across the space. Loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that they wouldn't be able to talk to each other.

The lyrics of a time honored carol began to echo across the space.

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree / How lovely are your branches!

"Now," she said with a small self-conscious smile. "it is festive enough."

"The music is an...on-point choice," Sturnack noted back, admiring the tree beside the woman. While the arboreal creation had, indeed, been an inefficient use of time, the Vulcan could not refute the positive impact putting up the decorations had had on Jocelyn. Which meant that, perhaps, the time had not been so ineffectively spent as he'd first thought. It was very important that Jocelyn feel welcome in The Fortress and the place certainly had her touch all over it now.

They both stood there like that for several moments, looking at the decorations as the music continued to play on, this close to their hanging hands touching as they stood side-by-side.


=/\= A joint post by... =/\=

Captain Jocelyn Blake
Press Secretary
Starfleet Command

and

Fleet Admiral Sturnack
Commander-in-Chief
Starfleet Command