Strictly Regulation

Note: In my experience, sober conscientious people are often quite playful in private. (The corresponding axiom, of course, is that quiet ones usually have something to say worth hearing. Or is it that 'still waters run deep'?) This is a story featuring people who appreciate language, just so's ya know...

If you don't want to see Uhura lighten up with the very serious male object of her affections, then you should only read the first chapter. (There are six in all.)

Disclaimer: Don't. Won't. Shan't. Alas.

Strictly Regulation 1

Confrontation

The Enterprise Bridge Crew had just instituted a new policy, deemed essential for not only themselves, but all Officers, Department Heads, Command personnel, and away-team members. Commander Spock, the sole individual on the ship to enjoy regular status as a representative of each category of persons affected, was, unfortunately, working in the Astro-Gravitational Laboratory that morning, and was therefore not present at the meeting wherein this policy was discussed and summarily adopted.

He fell afoul of it almost immediately.

He had returned to his Science Station, accompanied by two earnest technicians. He was aware that the other members of the Bridge complement frequently found his professional discourses to be both tiresome and oddly entertaining. Consequently, he endeavored to keep his voice low. "It is imperative that this procedure be included in all routine surveys," he said. He paused; and in the brief silence his sensitive hearing picked up a peculiar little noise. Indeed, although he had heard such a noise before in response to his speech patterns, this one was remarkable for the abruptness with which it was terminated. His fingers kept working at the panel the technicians were eagerly studying, even as his eyes slid over toward the Communications Station.

Lieutenant Uhura was carefully directing all of her attention to her monitors, and although he waited a moment, her gaze never met his.

He turned deliberately to observe the other officers populating the Bridge.

The Captain was sitting abnormally still, not fidgeting in the Command Chair as was his wont. Perhaps he was watching Ensign Chekov's efforts at Tactical? The latter's head was bent over his console; and, while his ears appeared somewhat redder than was ordinary, his hands were busy performing a complex maneuver that, surely, he could not have just commenced.

Lieutenant Sulu was making a minor course adjustment. Though the gravity he displayed was not adequately explained by the task at hand, it was, of itself, sufficient to suggest that the person in question had not made the small sound he had heard.

Lieutenant Hannity had her back turned to him, one hand raised to her ear piece.

Lieutenant Bromley's position was such that Spock was unable to see him clearly. His body was angled toward the nearest screen, but his habitually serious face was averted.

Although he would have heard one of the others had they made that odd noise, he doubted whether they would have been able to distinguish the words which he suspected to be its cause.

Perhaps Lieutenant Kyle? No, he was hard at work.

Dismissing the situation as the by-product of yet another incomprehensible vagary of human behavior, and thus worthy of no more of his time, he resumed his conference. In four minutes, he dismissed the technicians, and when the turbolift doors closed behind them, there was a momentary pause – then, an uproar.

"That's two from Mr. Spock," came the Captain's exultant voice.

"I hear'd it, I hear'd it!" Chekov was saying excitedly.

"Me, too," Sulu announced.

"Two for me!" cried Hannity.

Bromley agreed, "And me."

Even Kyle was nodding.

Spock's eyes slid toward Uhura. This time her gaze slid back, and she smiled, if the smallest bit apologetically. "Sorry, Sweetie."

A moment later, the Captain demanded, "Time to pay up, Mr. Spock."

"Captain, am I to understand that some sort of wager was undertaken on my behalf, and without my consent, with regard to my predicted behavior?" Spock did not bother preventing his voice from growing infinitesimally colder.

"No, no, Spock; relax. This wasn't a bet. It's a fine. You broke the new rule."

He tensed. "Captain, I must protest. Although I am aware that lack of knowledge is, in matters of law, not sufficient justification to hold one unaccountable for one's past actions, it nevertheless seems unreasonable - even for you - to expect me to submit myself for punishment for an infraction that I was not only unaware that I was committing, but of whose nature I continue to remain in ignorance."

There was an extended hush, broken only by the noises of the instruments.

Nyota had moved to stand by his side. He could hear that her breathing was slightly more rapid than normal: Apparently, she was angry.

The Captain seemed to notice: "Okay, okay, this time was a freebie. But next time, Spock, you're gonna pay."

His mouth firmly closed, the Vulcan turned on his heel and headed for the turbolift.