Decorations (Open )

[science_blues]

(OOC - Set sometime after the away mission in Christmas-wobble-time.)

It was, perhaps, inappropriate to afford a section of the ship's power to the replication of decorations. Spock, however, was quite convinced that the representative nature of the replicated flora more than forgave the indulgence. Despite being convinced of this, it did occur to

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[cso_spock]

He had intended to do this sooner, but Christmas tended to bring more problems than usual, for some reason he hadn't quite figured out yet. The holiday, portrayed so nice and festive in most memories and customs, proved to be one of the most stressful times of the Federated year, leading to crew quarrels and requests for time off. Or better yet, everyone redeeming a day or two of their accumulated leave at exactly the same time.

Productivity, against his better efforts, had simply stopped. Anything that wasn't being simulated through the computers had been shelved, stored, covered. His laboratories were eerily silent. The hallways less so as he traversed them and came to the quarters that had been given to his female counterpart.

Spock reached out to press the door chime and waited.

[science_blues]

The chime resounded through the panel adjacent to the threshold and Spock's head righted as she regarded it. Her brow arched and, very quickly, she calculated the likelihood that anyone would arrive just as the ornament had been installed. It was a staggering number hedged with the baffling, pessimistic precepts of inevitability.

Spock disregarded the calculation easily and, rather than proclaim the permission of entry, merely extended a hand and pressed the door controls. The door slid open and Spock returned to her proper stature, a brow arched as she regarded the Vulcan on the other side of her threshold.

"Greetings," she hazarded evenly.

[cso_spock]

"Good evening," He returned with a nod, keeping his hands behind his back as he took in her features in that one look, committing it to memory for further analysis.

"You are not currently occupied?" His eyes flickered past her and into the room behind her. Seeing no one, he assumed he was right, but still kept outside with the lack of invitation.

[science_blues]

"I am not," Spock confirmed and stepped aside, motioning to the interior of her quarters. "If you wish to speak with me privately, please enter."

Her eyes briefly moved to the ornament hanging from the center of the doorway, but she would not comment. This was likely a formal meeting and, as such, informal, traditional frivolity could be abstained from.

"Are you the native Spock?" she prompted and surveyed him. He was not dissimilar from the other variant she had met, though he seemed far less...hm, haggard.

[cso_spock]

It was of particular importance to Spock that he keep his appearance from tending towards his mirror, which was why he had insisted on shaving before leaving sickbay and kept to a rigid morning routine.

"I am." Spock stepped in, casting a glance around the rather sparse and bland decorations that came standard with new quarters. His mind ticked off the methods he could remedy this (as, if it were him, he would want to, but did this change with gender...?).

"You accepted my request to perform my duties while I was absent, for which I thank you. I trust they were not too strenuous, or unfamiliar?"

[science_blues]

"They were neither," Spock confirmed honestly and inclined her head as the door slid shut. It shuffled the ornament mounted in the threshold and Spock ignored the short sound it emitted. The jingling was moderately nostalgic, but not overwhelmingly so.

"I trust you are improved in general condition?"