Nyota extended her legs, one after the other, extending her heel and her toes. She patted Spock's belly, and ran her index and middle finger up and down his thumb, which gripped her thigh. Her other hand swirled the tender skin at the nape of his neck. Her eyes were shuttered. Her ear was inclined to his lips. Her smile, shy.
Spock sighed. His stomach rising and falling under her hand, he whispered in her ear.
"I love it when you say it."
So he did it again and was rewarded with her fatuous smile and her fingers lingering and playing with his.
"You say it so easily," Nyota marveled.
"My father did it."
"He told you this?"
"Yes. After mother died."
"Has he ever said it to you?"
Spock's expressionless expression conveyed a probability so remote as to be none. To the sixth decimal. "Loving Amanda is easy, Nyota."
"I see that."
His eyebrow rose.
"How could she be any different from you in that respect?"
In another surrender, Spock raised his index and middle finger. Nyota met them with hers.