PART THIRTEEN [CLOSED]
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As a new guideline: for the time being, I'd like to put a damper on the re-requesting going on. Please only re-request something if it has been more than a month since you asked for it and it still hasn't been filled. I'd like to remind everyone that old parts still have many ( Read more... )
The meal had been sumptuous and McCoy had relished eating the freshly prepared food as he made polite conversation with his dinner companions. For the most part, he was content to listen to their conversations. Every now and again his eyes were drawn to Spock who was sitting further down the same long table as he was. The Vulcan was striking at the best of times, but there was something about him this evening that McCoy couldn’t put his finger on. Occasionally their eyes met and McCoy would immediately look away and engage one of his dinner partners in conversation.
After the meal was the ball and McCoy took up his usual position hugging a wall to watch. He’d never seen so many different aliens in one place and was pleased to realize he recognized every species, having had to study xeno-anatomy and physiology as part of his course.
Of the three starship crews, theirs was by far the youngest. Uhura seemed to be permanently surrounded by men and Kirk by women, flirting shamelessly as always. McCoy could see he was in his element. Spock had spent some time conversing with his father but now as he cast his eyes around the room, he was unable to locate the first officer.
“Doctor.”
McCoy spun around and scowled at Spock. “Will you quit creeping up on me like that. One day you’ll give me a heart-attack.”
Spock’s expression remained neutral yet McCoy could tell he was amused. “While I would deny creeping anywhere, I would suggest that given the level of noise in this hall and the quality of the Human aural sensory modality, I believe I could have approached you in hob-nailed boots and you would have failed to hear me.”
McCoy barked out a laugh, too amused to pick up on the slur on his hearing. He cocked his head in the direction of their captain. “I told you he’d be fighting ‘em off.”
“The captain…appears to appreciate female companionship,” Spock agreed.
McCoy noticed the slight hesitation and looked at him. “Not appears, Spock. He does. Despite rumors you may have heard on the ship to the contrary, he’s most definitely a ‘ladies man’.”
McCoy knew it wasn’t necessary to elaborate, given Spock’s oh-so-superior Vulcan hearing, as he would no doubt at some point have overheard the ship-board rumors concerning him and Jim, but he did, anyway. “Jim and I have been best friends all through the Academy and we shared a room in our final year. But there’s never been anything between us…and never will be,” he added emphatically.
“Indeed?”
McCoy felt Spock’s intense gaze on him as he uttered the one word.
“Hello Commander, would you care for a dance?” A Centauran woman in a golden diaphanous gown had suddenly appeared in front of Spock.
“Thank you madam, but I must decline,” he responded with a slight bow. “If you will excuse me,” he added to dismiss her. “Doctor?” With that, he stepped out onto one of the balconies and McCoy obediently followed.
He took in a deep breath of the balmy air, the smell of the fragrant flowers in the garden below assaulting his senses. “You don’t dance?” McCoy asked.
“I prefer to avoid it, especially as the style at these events requires physical contact.”
McCoy hadn’t really considered it before but it made sense that Spock wouldn’t want that kind of contact with strangers.
“I apologize for the erroneous conclusion I had drawn regarding you and the captain.”
McCoy shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, I’m pretty used to it now. Though I am surprised, as you don’t normally jump to conclusions without adequate data.”
Spock’s lipped quirked slightly. “I had data; it was merely incorrectly interpreted.”
“My god, are you actually admitting to making a mistake?” McCoy grinned “Wait, wait, what data?”
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