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"Merry merry," Gaila wakes Chris with nuzzling kisses to his temple and the crinkle of his eye. "It's Christmas!"
The old holiday had been abandoned as an official public celebration decades before Chris was born, and lingered only amongst the few who celebrated it as a religious event. But a series of nostalgia-ridden holovids with a bunch of megastars renewed interest in Christmas in the mid-40s and by Gaila's academy arrival, most of Earth was once again having secular celebrations of Christmas. Gaila loved it, especially as the signature red and green colors of the holiday spoke to her aesthetic.
Now, aboard the Dor, it's an unofficial free-for-all day, light duty, skeleton shifts and all. A ship wide gift exchange was coming to its culmination and a party had been scheduled for 1900 in the forward observation deck. For the last week, decorations had been appearing throughout the ship. A string of twinkling lights even appeared around the edge of the main navigation console, as if it isn't illuminated enough as it is.
Chris isn't much for Christmas. He grew up without it and was out in deep space when it came back into fashion. He didn't quite get the fervor, but he's more than willing to go along for the sake of the morale of his young (so young) crew.
But he does love his wife's enthusiasm for just about anything, and as he truly awakens and sits up a bit in the bed, he has to smile. She's stood, and is modeling something skimpy and red, velvet trimmed in Santa Claus synthafur.
"Care to explore," she lifts a small bag, her smile bright and naughty, "my sack of toys?"
As Chris reaches for her, he thinks that perhaps there is something to this celebrating of Christmas, after all.