The mess hall had never looked this good.

  Emily had transformed the utilitarian space into something that actually felt like Christmas. Red and green lights cast warm colors across the metal walls. Paper snowflakes hung from the overhead lighting. Even the standard-issue tables looked festive loaded with decorations.

  And she'd made them all wear their dress uniforms. The deep blue fabric with silver piping that they'd packed for formal occasions that never seemed to come. Luca tugged at his collar, already missing his comfortable bodysuit, but Emily had been adamant.

  "It's Christmas Eve," she'd said, hands on her hips in that way that meant arguing was pointless. "We're doing this right."

  So here they were. Chris looked a little straighter in his uniform, the fabric tailored perfectly to his build. Ryan kept tugging at his collar and adjusting his sleeves like the formal wear was personally attacking him. Joey had managed to make even the stiff military cut look casual. And Emily... damn. The uniform hugged her curves in ways that made Luca's brain short-circuit for a second before he remembered they were in public.

  She caught him staring and grinned, adjusting the red Santa hat perched on her blonde hair. "Like what you see, Captain?"

  "Always," Luca said, not caring that the others could hear.

  "Get a room," Ryan muttered, but he was smiling.

  Zoe bounced through the mess hall doors wearing her own Santa hat, the red fabric contrasting with her dark skin and black dreadlocks. She'd made her dress uniform look effortlessly stylish, the way she did with everything.

  "Dinner ready?" she asked, practically vibrating with excitement.

  Luca gestured toward the kitchen area where their turkey sat golden brown in the oven. "Twenty more minutes. And if I fuck this up, we're eating charred bird for a week."

  Emily bumped his shoulder. "You're not going to fuck it up. Besides, even if you did, we'd still eat it and pretend it was delicious."

  "Speak for yourself," Ryan said. "I have standards."

  "Since when?" Chris shot back.

  "Since always, asshole."

  Some things never changed. Thank God.

  ***

  Joey appeared in the doorway, carefully maneuvering Danny's wheelchair and IV pole through the entrance. Danny was awake, alert, and grinning despite being stuck in what was basically a mobile medical unit. The lower half of his body was still encased in the healing apparatus, but his color was good and his eyes bright.

  "Special delivery," Joey announced. "One Irish bastard, slightly broken but functional."

  "Fuck off, Joey," Danny said, but he was laughing. "I can wheel myself, you know."

  "Doctor's orders. You're not cleared for independent navigation yet."

  Danny rolled his eyes but settled into the spot Joey positioned him at the head of the table. The red Santa hat Emily had procured for him sat crooked on his curly red hair, making him look younger than his twenty years despite everything he'd been through.

  "How's the pain?" Emily asked, leaning down to check on him.

  "Manageable. Joey says two more weeks until I can walk."

  "Six weeks," Joey corrected.

  "I'll go stir-crazy in six weeks."

  "Better than going dead," Zoe said, settling into the chair beside him. "We almost lost you, Danny."

  Something soft passed between them. Danny's hand found hers on the table, their fingers intertwining naturally. The timer chimed from the kitchen.

  Turkey time.

  Luca pulled the turkey from the oven, golden brown, skin crackling, the kind of smell that made your mouth water before you even saw. Real food. Honest-to-god roasted meat that had once walked around on a farm somewhere on Earth.

  "Holy shit," Ryan breathed. "That smells amazing."

  "Language," Emily scolded, but she was practically drooling.

  "It's Christmas Eve. I'm allowed to swear about food."

  They gathered around the table. Joey had produced something resembling mashed potatoes from the ship's stores. Emily had crafted a ridiculous rainbow of microgreens from Luca's regrown hydroponic garden that actually looked fresh. Chris had contributed stuffing that probably contained more creative substitutions than Luca wanted to know about.

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  And wine. Two bottles of actual wine from their personal supplies, saved for exactly this kind of occasion.

  Luca carved the turkey while everyone watched like he was performing surgery. The meat fell away from the bone perfectly, tender and juicy. Steam rose from the slices as he arranged them on the serving platter.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," Luca announced, "dinner is served."

  The first bite was pure heaven.

  "This is incredible," Zoe said around a mouthful of food. "How did we manage this?"

  "Teamwork," Emily said, raising her wine glass. "And the fact that Joey's apparently a miracle worker in the kitchen."

  "Years of practice," Joey said, puffing out his chest a little. "You try feeding Danny growing up. Kid ate everything in sight."

  "Still do," Danny said, already reaching for seconds. "Metabolism's still weird from the reconstruction process."

  "What's in the stuffing?" Ryan asked, eyeing his plate with suspicion. "It's weirdly good."

  Chris grinned. "You don't want to know."

  Luca poured wine for everyone, the dark liquid catching the colored lights Emily had strung around the room. For a moment, the mess hall felt less like a starship galley and more like someone's home.

  "I want to make a toast," Luca said, standing with his glass raised. The conversation died down as everyone looked at him, their faces warm in the colored lighting. "To our first Christmas in Alpha Centauri. I couldn't ask for a better crew to spend it with."

  "To us!" Joey called out, clinking his glass against Luca's with enough force to make wine splash. The others followed, glasses ringing together in a chaos of celebration.

  "To not dying horribly this week," Ryan added.

  "To Danny's legs growing back," Chris said.

  "To Emily's Christmas magic," Zoe said, gesturing around the decorated room.

  "To finding something useful at this facility," Danny said. "Because we're running low on everything."

  It was true. Supplies were tight, and the facility ahead was their best shot at restocking. But that was tomorrow's problem.

  "Speaking of which," Zoe said, "I've been monitoring our approach. We should start getting detailed scans by tomorrow morning. Looks like a massive facility, and I'm detecting System portal signatures nearby."

  "Figures," Ryan muttered. "Of course, there are portals."

  "Could be good though," Joey pointed out. "Portals usually mean resources."

  Chris raised his glass again. "Well then, to our first alien Christmas!"

  "Merry Christmas," they all echoed, and this time the cheer felt real.

  ***

  Zoe jumped to her feet. "I think we should sing. A Christmas carol. Who's with me?"

  Ryan shot up immediately. "Absolutely! 'Jingle Bells'?"

  "Oh god," Emily groaned, but she was smiling as she stood.

  "Come on, it'll be fun," Joey said, getting to his feet. "I have a beautiful voice."

  Even Danny tried to stand before remembering his situation. "Fuck. Wheelchair carols it is."

  They gathered in a loose circle around the table, glasses raised. Emily made a circuit of the group, adjusting everyone's Santa hats to her satisfaction while they complained.

  "Em, it's fine—"

  "It's crooked. There. Now you look festive."

  Ryan pulled out his tablet. "We should record this for posterity—"

  "NO!" the entire crew shouted in unison.

  "Fine, fine." He put it away, muttering something about ungrateful philistines.

  Emily counted them in:

  "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!"

  What followed was absolute chaos. Ryan was flat. Joey was sharp. Chris was trying to harmonize with a song that didn't need harmony. Zoe was making up her own words. Danny was laughing too hard to actually sing.

  After dinner, they migrated to the lounge. Joey cracked open beers while Zoe worked on a second bottle of wine, and Emily had convinced them all to change into their flannel pajamas. The kind with buttons down the front, soft and warm against the ship's recycled air.

  Luca claimed the corner of the couch first, and Emily immediately curled up against him, tucking her legs underneath her and burrowing into his side. Her Santa hat was crooked, blonde hair spilling out from under the red fabric. The smell of wine and her familiar soap was comforting.

  "Cold?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her.

  "Mm. You're warm." She pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over both of them, then wriggled closer until she was practically in his lap.

  Ryan made a gagging noise from his spot on the floor. "Seriously, you two. There are single people present."

  "Jealousy is unbecoming, Ryan," Emily said sweetly, not moving an inch.

  "I'm not jealous, I'm nauseated."

  "Same thing."

  "So what do you think?" Emily asked, her voice slightly slurred from the wine. "Alien facility full of treasure, or elaborate death trap?"

  "Why not both?" Ryan said. "We're good at death traps."

  "Speak for yourself," Zoe said. "Some of us prefer our aliens non-homicidal."

  "Where's the fun in that?" Danny asked.

  "The fun is in not dying, Daniel."

  Chris snorted. "When has that ever been our priority?"

  "Remember that snowball fight back in middle school?" Ryan said. "All of us out there freezing our asses off?"

  "You mean when you beaned Emily in the face and made her cry?" Danny said.

  "It was a tactical strike! She was winning!"

  "You threw it as hard as you could, you psychopath."

  "And I'd do it again," Ryan said, then yelped as Emily threw a couch pillow at his head.

  "Merry Christmas, asshole," she said sweetly.

  Emily shifted against Luca, tilting her head up to look at him. Her green eyes were soft in the low light. "What are you thinking about?"

  "How comfortable this couch is."

  "Liar."

  "Fine. I'm thinking about how I'm going to eat turkey sandwiches for the next three days and nobody can stop me."

  She settled her head back against his chest, her hand finding his under the blanket.

  Across the room, Pixel appeared from somewhere and leaped onto Danny's lap, purring loudly. Her purple markings pulsed contentedly as she kneaded his flannel pajamas with her paws, leaving little holes in the fabric.

  "Ow. Ow. Pixel, claws." Danny winced but didn't push her away. "At least someone's having a good Christmas."

  She's been glued to you since you got hurt," Joey said, his gaze fixed on his brother, his usual easy smile gone. "Follows you everywhere."

  "She has good taste," Zoe said.

  "We all are," Emily said firmly. "Having a good Christmas, I mean. Different from what we planned, but good."

  ***

  The facility waited ahead in the dark. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, whatever the System had cooked up for them this time. But right now, Emily was warm against his side, his crew was being idiots together, and the mess hall still smelled faintly of turkey.

  "Merry Christmas, you idiots," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  "Merry Christmas, Captain," Emily murmured against his chest.

  A comfortable silence settled over the lounge, broken only by the soft hum of the ship and Pixel's purring. Emily's fingers traced lazy patterns on his arm under the blanket.

  "I love Christmas," she said, snuggling closer.

  "Yeah? What's your favorite part?"

  "The unwrapping." Her eyes met his with that look he knew well. "Lots of unwrapping."

  Luca’s grin turned filthy.

  Tonight she’d be getting unwrapped until the wrapping hit the floor and the present begged for him.