That song.

They were playing that song.

It wasn’t just the decor.  In honour of the Constitution-class USS Constellation, the Planetarium lounge was styled in the eye-punching crimson and mid-century furniture of the twenty-third century.  It was a style that was considered futuristic when Nova was young, yet now, that same decor was considered old-fashioned.  The surroundings were evocative of another time and place. That loose perception of time travel was fully immersed by the song playing over the comm-system.  

It had been her mother’s favourite song.  If she concentrated, Nova could almost remember the sound of her mother humming that melody.  At first, she would hum it absently, and then she would belt the song to be heard over the life support system in their colony dome on Mars.  It was the strongest memory of that time that Nova could hold onto.  The only fragment of her mother than Nova retained.

From her vantage point on the raised dining platform, Nova’s attention was drawn by a flurry of movement on the planetarium floor.  Nova saw a figure in a black and teal science uniform, causing a commotion.  With a widescreen PADD clasped between both hands, like a shield, Yuulik was drawing near.  The attention of Yuulik’s bulbous blue eyes was clearly locked onto the display.  In fact, Yuulik’s left shoulder collided with a waiter and then another patron, but she didn’t look up from her PADD either time.  Yuulik didn’t even slow her stride; she continued her trek to the base of the ramp.  She only looked up to see Nova standing at the ramp’s upper reach.

“I reserved the private dining room for your birthday,” Nova said with barely controlled enthusiasm.  “You survived the Changelings and the Borg this year.  You deserve nothing less for expanding your wisdom by another year.”

Yuulik looked up at her.  Her brow creased in an expression that looked somewhere between wonderstruck and mild indigestion.  Yuulik lowered her hands and the PADD to her sides.

Yuulik blinked at Nova when she asked, “What are you wearing, dear?”

Raising a hand to her chest, Nova touched the broach where her Starfleet arrowhead should have been.  It was made of metal but resembled an elaborate bit of greenery.  She quirked a crooked smile at Yuulik.

“It’s mistletoe, remember,” Nova remarked.  “Haven’t you heard of Christmas in July?”

“No, I haven’t,” Yuulik said blandly.  There truly was no hint of recognition in her voice.  “But it’s the uniform I’m asking about?”

Nova cleared her throat and lowered her hands, tugging on the lower hem of her uniform jacket.  Rather than her black and mustard jacket, it was a nostalgic Starfleet uniform of navy blue with copper piping.

“It’s what I was wearing,” Nova said, “the last time…” but she hesitated before she said anything more.  Before she said: the last time you kissed me, the final time you said you loved me.  

Meeting Yuulik’s eyes, Nova could see no recollection of fond memories reflecting back at her.  In their months of service together aboard Constellation, those memories aboard the Brigadoon felt about as far off as Nova’s childhood.  A lifetime ago, only in a matter of months.  Seeing that chasm of absence behind Yuulik’s eyes, Nova supposed any hope of romantic reconciliation was just as scorched as her childhood home on Mars. 

Nova took a couple of steps down the ramp, closing the physical distance with Yuulik if nothing else.

“When you saved me from the inversion fold,” was what Nova finally said.

Yuulik cocked her head to the left, and she blinked at Nova.

“Does that mean I should eat you?” Yuulik asked.

Nova yelped out an ever-so-brief bubble of laughter.  She took four more steps down the ramp towards Yuulik.

She replied, “That’s not the response I expected.”

Smiling tightly, Yuulik asked, “Was it the response you hoped for?”

“Hope would imply I understood it?” Nova admitted, moving closer.

Yuulik scoffed at Nova as if Nova was teasing her.

“Be real, Nova,” Yuulik insisted.  “Jólaköttur.“

Nova hooked an arm through the crook of Yuulik’s elbow, tugging her towards the private dining room.  Nova leaned in close to ask her question in a whisper.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“You should know.  You’re the Christmas freak,” Yuulik said.  “I don’t know what game you’re playing.  Jólaköttur is the mascot of Christmas.”

“No, that’s not it,” Nova riposted.  “I’ve never even heard of that.”

Although Yuulik allowed herself to be led up the ramp by Nova, she continued the verbal tug-of-war.

“It’s a yule cat, from the definitive poem Christmas is Coming.  The cat eats you if you aren’t wearing new clothes by Christmas.  That uniform you’re wearing is categorically old clothes.  They don’t suit you anymore.”

Making no effort to hide her surprise, Nova asked, “How do you know about a yule cat?  You didn’t grow up with Christmas.  I had to teach you about mistletoe last Christmas?”

Scoffing, Yuulik said, “I am an archaeologist.  I know things about history.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Nova said unevenly as they entered the raised dining room.  “It might be time to put this uniform away.”

Looking right at her, Yuulik said, “You’re here now.”

“They’re here now too.  The other guests are here to celebrate you,” Nova said, nodding to members of the senior staff and science department, following them up the ramp.

Nova sighed.  “A crowded room. Friends with tired eyes.“