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La’an sighs as she wanders through the shop, once again cursing Captain Pike for persuading her to participate in the ship’s Secret Santa gift exchange. As her eyes sweep unenthusiastically over another shelf of trinkets, she considers again if it would seem rude for her to offer private hand-to-hand combat training in lieu of a physical present. Then she considers actually having to make good on her offer and redoubles her efforts to find a gift.
“Hey,” says a voice in her ear. La’an spins around to see Christine smiling at her. “Looking for your Secret Santa gift?”
“Yes,” La’an admits. “I am.”
“I can help,” Christine offers. “Who’s it for?”
La’an frowns. “Isn’t it supposed to be a secret?”
Christine shrugs. “Nobody actually follows that rule.”
“What if you’re my gift recipient?” La’an asks.
“I know you’re not. I already know who has me.” La’an raises an eyebrow. “It was originally Chief Jay, but they traded with Joseph to get Kelzig,” she recounts. “That’s why I’m staying out of the antique store, so he can find my gift.”
La’an hesitates. “Who is your gift recipient?” Christine opens up her bag and lets La’an see the stack of cookbooks inside. “The captain?”
Christine smiles. “Yeah. It was way too easy.” She makes grabbing hands at La’an. “So come on, let me help. Tell me who you got.”
La’an weighs her options, then relents. “I have to buy a gift for Sam Kirk.”
“Ooh. That’s tricky,” Christine says. “What were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a plant?”
“A plant?” Christine makes a face. “For a biologist? That’s basically a microaggression, La’an.”
“He doesn’t like plants?” La’an asks.
“His quarters are full of them; he’s a biologist. That’s not the point,” Christine replies. “My point is, you can do better than a plant. How about…” She glances around the shop, then grabs a box off a shelf. “Some fancy tea?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lieutenant Kirk drink tea,” La’an replies. She takes the container from Christine’s hand and turns it over to read the label. “I think Spock might like this, though.”
“Oh, speaking of which, do you know who Spock has for Secret Santa?”
La’an shakes her head. “He’s not playing.”
“Really?” Christine asks. “I figured Captain Pike would’ve signed him up against his will.”
“He tried, but Spock talked his way out of it. Since he’s Jewish and all.”
“Oh, right. Clever.” Christine turns back to the store display. “Okay, what about a watch?” Then she tilts her head. “Actually, that’s probably not a good idea. From you, it might seem a little…passive-aggressive.” She wanders down the shelf and holds up a box from the next aisle. “A scarf?”
La’an shakes her head. “Look, I appreciate the help, but I have to be back on Enterprise soon and I’ve visited almost every store on this station,” she says. She heads to the counter to pay for the box of tea. “I saw a bakery next to the transporter pad; I think I’m just going to get him a box of cookies and then wrap a ribbon around it. Maybe I can find some kind of alcohol to pair with it.”
“Aw, come on,” Christine wheedles. “That’s so boring. Let’s just try one more place.” Christine peers out of the shop window and sees Joseph walking by. “Did you try the antique store?” La’an shakes her head. “Okay, let’s go there.”
She takes La’an’s hand and drags her into the antique store. Its interior is much more chaotic than the other shops on the space station, each shelf stuffed with an impressive assortment of curios. Near the back wall, an Andorian cashier watches Pelia suspiciously as she picks through a pile of old technology. His antennae twitch with annoyance when he sees their Starfleet uniforms.
“This is a waste of time,” La’an says. “I’m just going to go.”
“No, wait,” Christine pleads. “Antique stores always have the best stuff. Just give me one minute to find something for…” Her eyes land on a shelf of pottery and she gasps, then rushes over and snatches an item from the display. She holds up up to La’an. “This. You have to get this.”
La’an’s eyes scan it dismissively. “A mug?”
“Not just a mug. The mug.” Christine points to the decoration on the edge of the cup, then mimes drinking. The little image of the mustache sits perfectly under her nose as she raises the glass to her lips. “It’s perfect, right?”
La’an fights a smile. “I can see why you chose it,” she admits. “But I can’t get that for him.”
“Why not?” Christine asks.
“Won’t he find it offensive?” La’an asks.
“Are you kidding?” Christine shakes her head. “He’ll love it. Trust me.”
“Okay,” La’an agrees hesitantly. She takes the mug from Christine’s hands and examines it. “I can’t believe this exists. Why would anyone make this?”
“Oh, there was a whole fad on Earth before World War III,” Christine says. “It was short-lived, but—” Her expression lights up and she grabs the mug, then makes a beeline for the cashier. “Do you have anything else in this style?”
The Andorian gives the mug a distasteful glare. “Maybe a few garments in the back,” he suggests.
Christine hurries over to the clothing racks and starts sorting. After a moment, La’an joins in. “What are we looking for?”
“People didn’t just put mustaches on dishware. I’m hoping to find something to go with it. Like…” Christine grins triumphantly as she holds up a shirt. “This.”
“I ask you a question?” La’an reads. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I mustache you a question,” Christine corrects. “It’s a pun.”
La’an raises an eyebrow. “And this is supposed to be funny?”
“It is,” Christine insists. “Come on, just trust me. You have to get this for him.” She checks the shirt against her own body. “I think it might even be the right size.”
La’an sighs and checks the time. “Alright. I have to head back to Enterprise anyway.” She holds up the mug and the shirt to the cashier. “How much for these?”
He waves her off. “You can just take those. There’s not really much demand for 21st century Earth things these days.”
La’an shoots Christine a look. “It’s a sigh,” Christine insists.
“Fine,” La’an relents as they head out of the store. “But if it turns out to be the worst gift at the holiday party, I’m blaming you.”