Decorations (Open )
(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 ( Read more... )
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 ( Read more... )
He could easily have arranged the proposed dinner with her through the communications system, but as he found himself with some time on his hands, curiosity drove him to drop by her quarters unannounced instead.
He pressed the buzzer.
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She engaged the panel and the doors parted to reveal an unfamiliar human male. Spock was silent, just briefly, as she examined him. He held a visceral thread of familiarity, but nothing specific or technical. Unconsciously, Spock's head cocked 1.35 degrees clockwise, as though the change in angle would provide a more easily accessible angle. It did not help.
"Greetings, I am Spock," she stated evenly.
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Was this what he would look like, had he been born a woman?
"I know," he responded nonsensically, finding himself more off guard than he'd expected, though he caught it quickly, a sheepish smile forming on his lips as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was rude. Leonard Nimoy, Bill mentioned meeting you and I was... curious."
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"Greetings Leonard Nimoy," Spock responded evenly. "After conversing with Bill Shatner, I was equally curious about making your acquaintance."
Spock was silent as she examined Leonard Nimoy's features with renewed purpose. It had been implied that he was a non-Vulcan variant of James's native Spock. Though she had not met that particular variant, this human did bear several distinctly Vulcanoid facial markers. That they could have generated spontaneously out of a purely human genome was, to say the least, fascinating. She would have readily studied his genetic code, but that was rather personal. Perhaps something to request upon a secondary or tertiary meeting.
"If you wish to converse, you may freely enter," Spock continued openly. "However, I must insist on adhesion to proper traditional convention."
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At her words, his eyes began to search the doorway instinctively. The confusion lifted when he raised his head and noticed the object suspended above them. As did his right eyebrow, a perfect replica of Spock's perplexion if faced with something entirely unexpected.
"Mistletoe, huh?" He smiled lightly. "I certainly have no objections, but isn't my gender all wrong for you to want to adhere to this particular illogical human custom?"
Bill had praised her directness. He saw no reason to skirt around the subject as a consequence.
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"My own personal preferences on the matter, notwithstanding," Spock disclaimed.
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Well, you learned something new every day. He was hardly going to argue with a Spock on this, she'd undoubtedly done her research impeccably.
"Go on, then," he responded with a warm smile, taking a step to bring them closer together, "I wouldn't want to impugn those principles in any manner."
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He was, in fact, considerably masculine in texture and muscular response. It was unfortunate, but the given situation made it acceptable.
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Her lips were soft and notably warmer than he was used to beneath his, the physical sensation more than just pleasant. In fact, if he hadn't known of her preferences, he most likely would have moved to instinctively deepen the kiss, but with the awareness in mind, he kept it light and brief, not dissimilar to the screen kisses that Hollywood had favored when he was last this young.
He didn't attempt to restrain the smile that returned to his lips when he stepped back.
"I hope that wasn't unduly torturous," he stated, curious to see whether she'd pick up on the humor.
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"It was acceptable," Spock responded evenly. "If not particularly arduous."
It was an exaggeration, but it seemed in line with that which Leonard had proposed. Spock righted herself and adjusted her uniform calmly before stepping aside to permit the human entry.
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"Next time I'll be sure to tie you to the chandelier, first," he quipped, deliberately sidestepping and expanding both the definition and context of her word choice.
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"It is customary to offer refreshment to visiting guests," Spock prefaced, "Would you care for anything?"
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He slid into a chair. "Coffe would be lovely," he continued easily, without missing a beat.
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Spock removed the beverage from the replicator and moved alongside the single table. She placed the beverage before Leonard and sat down opposite him.
"Though that does bring up the issue of privacy."
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"I was just going to say. Seems like a surefire way to get yourself thrown in the brig, to me. Besides," he lifted an eyebrow, "efficient as they undoubtedly are, medical restraints would take all the fun out of it."
He hadn't at all intended for their conversation to start out like this, but her calm acceptance of the topic was... refreshing enough to have him not care.
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"Insofar as I have noted, restraints, though decidedly important in their function when utilized, are not what makes the torture particularly enjoyable." Spock paused. "Though I could be unaware of an implied sentimentality, or the issue with a lack of it, in the selection restraining apparatuses."
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