A lot of personal stuff has happened, so this would've happened earlier, but still trying to gauge people's interest in this.
Normally, there would be more lead time into promoting 12 Days of Spones, but everyone knows it usually happens on the 12th, and lasts 12 days long, so:
If there's enough people who would like it to happen, I'll have the optional themes/prompts/inspiration ideas up in a couple of days, along with the event info post.
(I know this poll is set at a week but I already voted so I'll be able to see the vote count coz I wanted this poll to run for a couple of days)
To anyone new reading this post, 12 Days of Spones is a 12 day long, winter inspired Spones event, where for 12 days people can create winter inspired Spock, McCoy, and/or Spones fanworks. Which can be meta, moodboards, fanart, playlists, fic, headcanons, etc. The only requirement is that it it centers either character and/or their relationship and is winter inspired. The themes/prompts are just optional and there to jumpstart people's creativity.
It usually starts December 12th til the 23rd, but there's a week long period after for late submissions.
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12 Days of Spones - Baking
I’m glad I managed to finish this in time lol! This is the first part of a much longer 5+1 fic I’m working on (and was working on for this event but failed to finish completely lol). It references the star trek cookbook – I downloaded it recently, and I’ve enjoyed reading the little descriptions for each dish just as much as I’ve enjoyed making them. With all the little spock and bones tidbits, it was hard not to make a fic revolving around it lol! I hope y’all enjoy!!
Thank you so much to @fuckyeahspones for hosting the 12dos event!!!! It’s been so much fun!
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McCoy lays in bed, vainly trying to rest.
M’Benga has already cleared him as cordrazine-free, but had suggested that McCoy take the rest of the night off to recover from any lingering effects. While McCoy had agreed with his professional opinion, he can’t sleep. He just keeps seeing Edith Keeler, run over by that truck over and over and over again.
He knows now why it had to happen, but he just can’t accept it. He’d watched her get run over, had failed to save her despite only being a few meters away from her. And even though saving her would’ve apparently destroyed the timeline, it’s hard for McCoy to face loss in such an abstract fashion.
The fact is that Edith Keeler died, and he failed to prevent it.
His door chime rings, and McCoy gets up immediately. Even if it’s just M’Benga, checking to make sure he really is resting, it’s a relief to have an excuse to stop trying.
When he keys open the doors, he’s surprised to see Spock standing there, holding a tray with something wrapped in aluminum foil on top of it. McCoy eyes the tray in confusion, but steps back to let him in anyway. “Mister Spock! Come on in.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Spock seems almost hesitant to come into the room, but he does eventually. He notices the messy blankets on the bed and says, “Am I disturbing your rest?”
“No, I couldn’t sleep anyway.” McCoy crosses his arms. “Actually, it’s a relief you’re here so I don’t have to keep lying there watching Edith Keeler die in front of me over and over again.”
Spock averts his eyes. Though he had been the one to logically declare that her death was necessary, he doesn’t seem all that happy about it either. “And the cordrazine?”
“Totally gone. Thank God.” McCoy bounces on his toes once and eyes the tray again. “So? What’s that you’ve got with you?”
“…It is Vulcan custom to give someone food after they have survived a deadly illness, to help with their recovery,” Spock says stiltedly. “Thus, I made you something.”
McCoy blinks, something warm spreading through his stomach. He’s unreasonably touched by the gesture, and by what it appears to mean – that Spock was worried about him. He peers at the dish, but can’t tell what it is from the shape of it. “You made this? That must have taken a lot of work, you didn’t have to—”
“It is also tradition,” Spock cuts over him, “to eat the proffered meal together. Is that acceptable?”
McCoy smiles. “Yes, Spock. Yes it is.”
He sets up a foldable table in the middle of the living area while Spock pulls over McCoy’s two desk chairs. This isn’t the first time they’ve shared a meal together in one of their quarters, but it is the first time either of them have made the meal from scratch.
“Did you ask Jim if he wants to join us?” McCoy asks quietly as he and Spock set out plates and utensils. He’d tried to talk to him earlier, but Kirk had been holed up in his quarters and unwilling to see him or even answer his calls.
Spock dips his head. “I did, but he didn’t wish to see me.”
McCoy nods. “I got the same treatment. We’ll just have to go see him when he’s ready.”
“Indeed.”
When they’re all set up, Spock gestures at McCoy to sit, so he does. He watches Spock remove the foil, and then just blinks down at the dessert. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. His heart feels lodged somewhere in his throat and his pulse has kicked up, but surely he has to be wrong… “Spock…isn’t this the Vulcan wedding cake?”
It’s dead silent for a moment.
Then Spock almost looks offended. “Of course not, Doctor. This is Ha Rageel, a Vulcan carrot loaf.”
“…So in other words, an almost identical dish,” McCoy insists, and then begins to laugh.
“It is completely unrelated,” Spock says firmly. “While they do contain many of the same ingredients, Tufeen Hushani is incredibly complex to make, while the Ha Rageel—”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” McCoy interrupts, smiling so wide it hurts his cheeks. “I’m just saying, you might want to think twice before bringing a non-Vulcan a dish that looks awfully similar to the wedding cake.”
He’s rewarded with the faint splatter of a green blush across Spock’s cheeks. “I did not think that most humans would even know of the Tufeen Hushani.”
“I was invited to my coworker’s wedding when I was stationed on Rigel Prime, and they served it there,” McCoy says as he hands Spock a knife to cut into the Ha Rageel. “She was Vulcan but her wife was Andorian—which was still quite a big deal, as you can imagine—so the wedding was Andorian, but the food was Vulcan.”
“I see,” Spock says, handing McCoy a plate with a piece of the loaf on top of it. While the consistency of it is rather thick, the center looks moist, and the scent is heavenly. “That explains why you were invited, then.”
McCoy looks at him questioningly, so Spock elaborates, “At traditional Vulcan weddings, only the partner’s closest friends and family are allowed to attend.”
“Ah.” McCoy smiles. “I can see why they didn’t have a Vulcan wedding, then. Can you imagine the mess the two wives’ families would’ve caused if they were invited? They were already upset that their daughters were marrying someone from the other species.”
Spock shakes his head. “One would think that, after 106 years, they would have learned to put their prejudices behind them.”
“It’s illogical, wouldn’t you say, Spock?” McCoy says, grinning when Spock gives him a look.
Spock serves himself a slice of the Ha Rageel, and then they both settle in to eat. McCoy takes a bite and has to prevent himself from moaning aloud – the loaf is unbelievably good. It’s as moist as it looked, and the taste is sweet with a slight kick to it from the cinnamon and nutmeg.
“Spock, this is delicious!” he exclaims. “You’re very skilled at baking.”
Spock dips his head. “Thank you, Doctor. I am pleased that you enjoy it.”
“Maybe I should get sick more often,” McCoy jokes, “so you’ll bring me more baked goods.”
Spock raises an eyebrow. “Remember that I said a deadly illness, Doctor. I would recommend against that course of action.”
McCoy chuckles, and Spock continues, “I would be willing to bake for you again regardless of if you are ill or not.”
McCoy blinks, taken aback, and then smiles. “I’d enjoy that, Spock. And I’ll have to make you some of my recipes, too!”
“I would be honored to try them.”
They chat as they finish the loaf—making sure to leave some extra to bring to Jim later—arguing about time travel and alternate universes and a plethora of other things much more ridiculous. McCoy has always enjoyed having meals with Spock, and spending time with him in general, as his company is never dull.
When they bid each other good night, McCoy finds that he does feel a lot better, and he no longer has any trouble sleeping.
The Ha Rageel must work, after all.
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