“Does that flatten it?” He vaguely remembered seeing the human shaped brown cookies in the display counter the previous year. They’d been large in overall size, but thin.

“Yes.”

“Let’s try that first then,” he replied.

K’zesh unhooked the bowl of dough and carried it over to a second workstation. He hit the sanitizing function on the table surface, and then he dumped out the dough. “Here—help me form them into balls, like this,” he demonstrated, rolling a chunk of the brown substance until it was roughly the size of a quithil berry.

T’kalinth grabbed his own portion of the dough and set to work. K’zesh tapped a few controls to preheat the oven and lifted the sides of an unfamiliar device. He plopped one ball in the middle and then closed the sides back down. When he opened them again, there was a thin circle on the surface below.

“Get some of the large flat pans for baking,” K’zesh ordered.

T’kalinth fetched two and they’d covered two pans with the almost translucent circles before they stopped. K’zesh put the first pans in the oven and set the timer according to Alice’s directions. Perhaps he had been rather hasty in his judgment of the young man. He did seem efficient, at least, and he’d ceased to talk about Alice. Even the scent coming from the oven was appetizing.

“They smell pleasant. Did you enjoy this gingerbread when you ate it before?” he asked K’zesh.

“Yes, very much so. It is less sweet than other Earthan desserts and more to my taste.” The assistant tilted his head and extended his tongue. “Do you smell char?” he asked.

T’kalinth scented the air again. There was an odor reminiscent of freshly grilled veska meat. “I don’t think any more than would be expected,” he replied.

He was looking over the eggnog recipe again, trying to decide how to make it less revolting so that the Xithilene among them would even consider drinking it, when K’zesh called him over.

“I’m almost certain that’s smoke,” he said as he grimaced. “Bring the heat resistant gloves. We need to remove the cookies now!”

K’zesh opened the oven door as T’kalinth pulled on the gloves. Dark, billowing smoke flooded the air, and they both began to cough again. He hurriedly pulled out the pans, sliding them onto the heat proof work surface. When the air filtration system cleared the smoke enough for him to see clearly again, T’kalinth looked down, aghast at the state of their cookies.

“This can’t be right,” he stated. The entirety of the cookies, except for the very centers, had turned black.

K’zesh attempted to pry one free of the pan with a thin, flat serving device, but it cracked in half and then into several small, crumbly pieces. “Perhaps they need to cool first,” K’zesh said doubtfully.

They tried another batch of cookies, this time rolling the dough into a log shape and then using a circle cutter. He wasn’t sure how Alice had achieved the humanoid shaped cookies the previous year, but he couldn’t find anything in the kitchen that seemed designed for that purpose.

The thicker cookies turned out better, but they still didn’t seem quite right. Once they finished with the gingerbread, they tackled the eggnog. From what they could determine from their translators, the additional ingredients required were all forms of alcohol. “Dark rum,” they were able to find, but T’kalinth added mezal’el in place of the others. The drink didn’t smell half bad when they were done with it.

T’kalinth took the pot to the stasis unit while K’zesh placed their cookies in a box. The recipe had called for some sort of sugary topping, but they’d both agreed that since their gingerbread was unshaped, it was unnecessary. K’zesh had told him that the white topping was part of the design, and that he had scraped it off before eating his cookie house.

He was exhausted by the time they’d cleaned the kitchen and were ready to leave. T’kalinth hoped that Daniel was sleeping better than usual so that Alice could get some rest. He wanted her to be able to enjoy the last day of her celebration.

“Thank you, K’zesh,” he told the other man, offering him his arm as they prepared to leave the kitchen.

The younger man’s crown feathers lifted in surprise, but he grinned cheerfully as he pressed his forearm to T’kalinth’s. “Well met,” he said. “Tell Lady Alice I was happy to help.”

T’kalinth smiled back, but he still planned to speak to Meesi about the man’s apparel—or lack thereof.

He made his way back up to their apartment, walking inside as quietly as possible when the authorization panel deactivated the lock. T’kalinth froze and listened for any sounds of a stirring baby, but it all was peaceful. He stripped off his dirtied garments and dropped them in the cleanser before he walked into their bedroom.

He could see the silhouette of Daniel’s sleeping unit beside the bed. He resisted the temptation to go closer—he didn’t want to inadvertently wake the baby with his presence. T’kalinth pulled back the bed coverings and slid in beside Alice. The gentle fall and rise of her shoulder let him know she slept soundly, and he smiled softly. He drew his fingertips lightly over her bare shoulder and down the line of her arm.

She stretched and made an adorable little humming noise before she turned to face him. “T’kalinth, you’re back,” she said sleepily. “You smell like Christmas—or a big, gooey cinnamon bun. Hmm.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and then he quickly relaxed, content to know that he’d pleased his mate in this small way. Perhaps he would make the Christmas cookies every year from now on, he thought happily as he drifted off to sleep.

10

O Holy Night

V’ESTHISS

V’esthiss was not accustomedto enjoying formal meals at the palace, but this Christmas dinner defied his expectations. One of the human women was playing their ubiquitous cheerful music again, and his foot tapped beneath the table despite itself. Kat sat at his side, her hand in grabbing distance, and most of the scents coming from the dishes covering the table were at least somewhat appealing, a surprising feat considering it was almost all human food.