Summary: A simple masquerade ball can have lasting consequences… Oneshot. I'm still not happy with the title.

Author's Note: I rarely ever think about writing Spock x Christine (when I think about ST fics), but here's a little oneshot…incredible. A random idea that came to me at 1AM. It's probably terrible. Christine's POV—1st person. It's a teensy oneshot, unfortunately…ah well. And like I said, I still don't like the title…if anyone has a better idea, let me know!

I wondered whose idea it had been to throw a masquerade ball…well, party, really. The Captain's? Dr. McCoy's? Certainly not Spock's. But I love dances, and so I got my dress ready several weeks before.

The day of the dance Nyota came to my room to get ready with me. She let her hair fall in loose curls—they framed her face very beautifully. And then she helped me put my hair up in an elaborate hairstyle with lots of ornaments—silver strands, flowery pins, etc. And then came the difficulty of the dresses. Ny's was more…practical than mine. It was a simple red gown with gold trimming—a strapless, but she put a pashmina over it in case she got cold. It was fine silky satin, and it caught the light beautifully. The neckline was modest but elaborate, with delicate golden designs that swirled down to the waist. Her mask was a matching red dotted with gold sparkles. And she was wearing a simple gold necklace with a small but intricate pendant. Her earrings were chandelier earrings that hung almost to her shoulders.

It took me hours to find my dress. I searched and searched for the right one—alluring but still reserved. Eventually I stumbled upon the right one, though. It was midnight blue with a large skirt, like Ny's, but it wasn't as simple. It had elaborate silver embellishments on the hem of the skirt, which was folded in a way that it seemed to have diamonds on it. The 'diamonds' went up to the waist—and then the top mirrored the bottom, as it had a smaller version of the hem embellishments on the top hem. The same pattern was around the waist. The neckline was a v-neck, plunging just where it showed some, but not too much. The sleeves were in two parts: the inner part was fitted to my arm, and the outer was tight at the top down to the middle of my upper arm, where it split and grew very wide and flowing. That flowing part was a light blue gauzy material that sparkled when it caught the light. My mask was a matching blue, but around the eyes it was light blue with a silvery pattern woven in. For jewelry I had a long silver chain with crystals dotted on it, and silver chandelier earrings: not nearly as long as Ny's.

The whole thing was elaborate. A large 'ballroom' had been decorated beautifully with sparkling gold and silver. There was a long table set up with a white tablecloth and sparkling cutlery and glasses. There was a mini orchestra preparing to play music, and the people were milling around. I was glad we were on a station: the Enterprise didn't have a room big enough—or that many people. I found that I couldn't pick any of the men out that I knew—they all were dressed lavishly. And their masks covered their ears, so the one man I really wanted to see I couldn't find at all.

Ny held my arm so we wouldn't get separated in the crowds, and she flashed me a grin. "Isn't this wonderful?" she said, looking around.

I nodded my agreement, still scanning the people. "I wonder where our friends are," I murmured.

She shrugged. "I don't know…why don't we try to find them?" she suggested. We dove in headfirst—so to speak—and started looking, peering maybe a little too close at the people. But nobody's lower half of their face looked familiar.

"Christine?" said a familiar voice. I spun, dropping Ny's arm in the process. I recognized that voice: I knew it as well as my own…maybe better. "Spock," I said, almost laughing with delight. "I was beginning to think we weren't going to find anyone we knew here."

Ny nodded, peering past Spock. "There's the Captain and Dr. McCoy," she said, giving me a wave—and a wink—and slipping off.

Leaving me by myself with Spock. She knew what she was doing.

"You look very beautiful tonight, Christine," said Spock, a smile touching his lips.

I blushed. "Thank you," I said, suddenly wondering if the mask covered my cheeks. "You look…very dashing," I said. It was true—the masquerade had been declared white tie, and he looked amazing in the formal clothes. (Of course…he would have looked amazing in anything, to me.)

He accepted the compliment with a smile, inclining his head.

At that point the mini orchestra struck up a song (a slow song, of course) and Spock bowed at the waist to me. "May I have this dance?" he asked, straightening.

I blushed again, feeling my heart flutter. "Of course," I said. He took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

Spock was an excellent dancer, and I was hopeful he'd ask me to dance again…when Dr. McCoy stepped in. Spock released my hand—which he hadn't dropped after the dance—and I thought I felt a little reluctance.

"Why the sudden interest?" I teased as Bones (he'd once asked me to call him that when we weren't working) danced with me. I really wasn't angry with him—I was curious to see what Spock would do after this dance.

He smiled. "I wanted to ask about you and Spock, actually," he admitted.

I blinked. "There's nothing between us, Bones," I laughed, although my heart was still fluttering like crazy. "He just asked me to dance."

Bones winked at me. "But I saw the way he looked at you, Chris. He couldn't take his eyes off you—and he smiled the whole song, too. He's head-over-heels, trust me." He looked at my dress then, and nodded. "I see why."

I laughed. "Stop it," I said, grinning. Bones was like that, teasing me, because we both had other people we liked and we both knew it. "It's not too revealing."

"But not too little," he added. "I know you, Chris—you liked this dress because it showed the right amount, right?"

I nodded, blushing a little. "But not too much," I insisted.

He shook his head. "But you caught Spock's attention—that was your plan, I assume."

I pretended to be indignant, but soon dropped the act. "Well…maybe," I admitted.

Bones laughed. "Just as I thought. Well," he said, bowing as the song ended, "I wish you good luck with that—here he comes now."

I wanted to laugh when I saw the jealous look in Spock's eyes—but I couldn't do anything but say I soft 'yes' to his offer of dancing again.

The night went by very quickly: dinner was excellent, and the wine flowed like water. I found myself seated between Spock and Bones, and across from Ny and the Captain—who had been enjoying themselves dancing. Eventually, at around two in the morning, the music was playing only softly and everyone was sitting in their seats, chatting away happily to one another.

And eventually it ended, and everyone dispersed. The whole group of us went back onto the Enterprise, and dispersed further from there. Spock walked me to my quarters, and we talked on the way.

I turned to him and smiled when we arrived. "Tonight was…well, magical," I said, tugging at the corner of my mask. Spock smiled back. "Indeed," he said in agreement. He took my hand and kissed it then, his eyes dark and…almost…sensual…when he raised his head. We stood like that for a while, and I knew in my heart that I ought to try and kiss him…but I couldn't. He smiled softly at me then. "Goodnight, Christine," he said quietly.

I wanted to say goodnight back, but I was trapped in his gaze. He placed a hand lightly on my cheek for a moment, and then smiled and turned to go.

"Goodnight," I whispered. I opened my door removed my mask, and placed it on the table. I'd missed it. My one chance to kiss Spock…and I'd let it pass by. I suddenly envisioned myself running after him, kissing him…and my heart stuttered. I grabbed the doorhandle and flung the door open…but he wasn't down the hall towards his quarters.

I sank to the floor against the wall, dropping my head into my hands.

"Christine?"

I yelped and flinched, looking up into Spock's dark eyes. "Oh, er…I…" I couldn't form a sentence.

Spock smiled gently and offered me a hand, helping me up. He placed his hands on my upper arms. "Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

I flushed bright red. "Yeah…I just…" But my voice failed me again, and I couldn't think of a good excuse as to why I was sitting in the hall, just outside my room.

But he seemed to understand. He brushed his fingers lightly across my cheek. "I think you ought to go to bed," he said gently, taking my arm.

I nodded. "Probably a good idea," I said, sheepish. I could see Nyota's face, hear what she would say. 'He walked you to bed? That's progress, Chris—major progress.'

Spock made sure I got to my bed before kissing my hand again—and then came that horrible quiet moment. I took a deep breath and leaned closer. His hand cupped my cheek and pulled me closer and closer…

"Oh! I'm sorry," squeaked Nyota, clapping her hands over her mouth and backing away. She shook her head. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her eyes focused straight on me.

Spock wasn't embarrassed—or if he was he didn't show it. Once Nyota left he turned back to me, smiled, and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. He drew back, paused, and then kissed me on the corner of my lips. I felt my breath catch in my throat.

He laughed softly. "Are you nervous?" he asked, looking very worried.

I shook my head. "No…I just…it's something I've waited so long for. I can't-can't believe it's really…happening," I stammered, blushing.

Spock smiled a little larger than he usually did, leaning in to kiss me…

CUT!! Yes, I'm a horrible person. I'm cutting it off now—no big kiss. Also, most of my time is being spent writing a musical—with every song by Within Temptation. I have a basic plotline, but it needs editing and full writing…and school starts up tomorrow. Second semester of freshman year…ugh.

I admit this isn't my best work, by any means…but I'm working myself back into writing canon characters. I'm trying my hand at Star Trek (I am a Trekkie now, utterly and completely), so be critical—let me know who I did wrong, right…but I will give flames to my grandfather to feed his wonderful fire.

Happy 2009—even if it's a little late!