Hot Tubs: Slow Tease Part II

Part II

Jim ordered a picnic for two on the Forward Observation Deck, the compartment of it that was right at the bow. He liked it here, the sensation of movement toward something; in warped space the stars appeared to gather in a mass ahead of the ship. He sensed Gaila would enjoy it. He was pretty sure he'd ordered the foods she liked, too.

She came into the compartment dressed in … a cloak, for some reason he couldn't quite figure out.

"Jim," she said, coming closer, "I really missed 'us' – I've missed being with you. I knew I had to let you squirm for a while, but you didn't say anything to me for so long, I wasn't even sure you were even sorry for what you did. Or if you were happy I got assigned here after surviving Nero or not, because all you said to me was 'Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.' You did kind of smile at me like you were relieved I was alive. But you looked away so quickly."

He moved to stand by her – her voice sounded a bit tearful.

"I was so ashamed I couldn't even imagine how to tell you I was sorry." He raised his hand to her face and gently wiped away a tear. "I couldn't face you."

"So why did you apologize today?"

"I missed you too, and I finally thought about your feelings. So I finally manned up."

There was a long silence as she slipped her arms around him.

"I'm glad you did." She reached up a hand to pet his unruly hair, which she had always loved. "I want to give you a gift," she said. "… Music!"

For a moment he was puzzled, but she gave him a playful little shove, and he sat down on the floor obediently.

Traditional Orion music skirled through the air. Gaila shucked her cloak. Her beautiful silvery dance costume consisted of a shimmering low-cut bra and diaphanous skirt whose top slanted right to left from just below her waist to her left hip, baring her left leg from hip to toe. Jim watched happily as she began to dance and appreciated the sight of her: red hair shining under the lights above, pretty blue eyes accenting her green skin; her rounded breasts, her slender, fit limbs, curved waist and softly muscled belly.

Kirk had never seen her dance like this. He was stunned by her beauty and her talent. She brought the music to life with sinuous and lovely movements. This was an honor, and a real treat. He nodded respectfully and watched his friend with delight. His girlfriend, maybe even.

The starboard dining room was dark, lit only by small lanterns on each linen-covered table. Uhura looked around; oddly, no one else was present. Spock escorted her to a table right by the viewport where appetizers were already set out, some on ice.

Instead of sitting across from her, Spock sat at ninety degrees to her. "May I?" he said, picking up a small broccoli floret, dipping it in pesto with pepper and parmesan, and holding it in front of her mouth. Smiling at him, she took it in and chewed happily, but decorously, watching Spock enjoy a floret of his own. The broccoli was perfect, chilled and crisp. He dipped a small piece of crusty, flavorful bread, offered it to her, and she ate it while he poured a robust red wine. He gave her the glass and raised one of his own, and toasted her: "To Nyota Uhura, the worthiest and loveliest woman I have ever encountered."

She blushed. This was new, the feeding and the toasting, and she had to admit, though it was uncharacteristic of him, it was very romantic, and she was really enjoying it. "I cherish thee, habibu," she whispered, touching her glass to his.

"As I cherish thee," Spock replied, in Vulcan, his eyes intense upon her as he touched his glass to hers. There was a pleasant ting of crystal. They drank the small carafe of wine, nibbling appetizers, reminiscing about their first meeting in Spock's linguistics class. And about their first "collision" – Spock's expression was warm as he recalled his reaction to her challenge of him, her intellect and confidence, so unusual in a fourth/class cadet. Such reminiscing was also a bit uncharacteristic, but what he told her only increased her feelings of warmth and regard.

"The first time I ever thought of you in any but a professional way was the day I saw you on the deck outside the gymnasium, getting into the whirlpool."

Her eyes widened and she laughed a little. "Ahh, sexual attraction."

He shook his head solemnly. "Not merely. A desire to know more about you than your excellent performance as a student of language and interspecies communication. A desire to hold you … and protect you, even though I knew you to be fiercely independent." He continued, "you wore a white Academy-issue swimsuit and looked more beautiful than I had ever seen you."

"My hair was getting frizzy and that suit … really!"

He raised his eyebrows with a quelling "teacher" look and went on, "and as you stepped up the stairs to the whirlpool, I imagined touching your bare legs. When you began talking – and laughing – with Dr. McCoy I thought you would be unapproachable, and left. I had never … felt … disappointed in that way."

She took a moment to absorb the thought of Spock – in an Academy public space – fantasizing about her, and feeling such disappointment.

She reached out with a finger and stroked his cheek. "When you turned away, I felt sad too. I thought we could never be together because you were so strict about regulations. You used to gig cadets who were thirty seconds late to class! And assign extra watches if they were late submitting papers. I wasn't sure what I was getting into when you invited me to be your Teaching Assistant."

"You have never given me reason to find fault," he said, "In any way, at any time."

"After a while as your TA …" she smiled gently, "I began to think my fantasies might just come true."

His eyes, as he studied her, almost twinkled; his left eye narrowed slightly – a prelude to the smile at the corner of his mouth.

Dinner was delicious, pasta in virgin olive oil with rosemary, toasted pine nuts and gorgonzola cheese, with more of the red wine. Vulcan or no, Spock had excellent taste; Uhura always thought this was a result of his being a diplomat's son. And a result of observation and study ….

Inwardly she grinned, then shrugged. I am the beneficiary, after all.

McCoy sank into the hot tub with a groan of happiness. He had punched the hell out of the speed bag, worked up a good sweat, done some yoga stretches, taken a sonic shower, and slouched over here with a bottle of wine and two glasses, just in case Christine followed his advice and showed up. "Oh, Lord …, thank you Mr. Jacuzzi," he said aloud.

No one was in this part of the Fitness Suite. One third of the crew was in Sickbay or on bed rest in their quarters, one third was on duty, and one third was, presumably, sleeping.

He poured himself a glass of wine, one Christine had always liked, from the Sonoma Valley in Northern California. Deep red. Wasn't bourbon or whisky but it tasted ju-u-st fine.

He leaned his head back on the ledge around the top of the tub, and the bubbles and the heat informed his body that it was good to be alive, alive and without Gnallifian intestinal worms.

He raised his glass, raised his head, and toasted Christine in absentia. "Thank you for giving me an ass-kickin' to get me down here."

McCoy took another generous sip, put the glass aside, and sank into the hot water up to his neck. This ancient method of relaxation had not faded with time, thank God.

The lights dimmed. He blinked, and looked up. They continued dimming until the overhead was a deep sapphire blue. Then the "stars" came out, and they looked just like the stars at home. Was that the sound of surf? And night birds, ch-uh-uh-uck, ch-uh-uh-uck-ing? And a scent of salty air? For a second he nearly panicked, fearing hallucinations, then he remembered the environmental design in every relaxation space on the ship –whew – the swimming pool, the hot tub, several of the Observation Deck spaces, the small "amphitheatre" and the formal Dining Room – had the capacity to deepen the color of the overhead to the evening hue of your home planet and region, and was programmed to reproduce the stars over your favorite place. It could simulate sunlight too. Sounds and scents, according to the time of day requested, were in the program too. All you had to do was enter your name.

"Hey, Christine," he called out, Southern-fashion.

"Hey," she answered, strolling to the hot tub. She wore just the right kind of bathing suit: with her figure, a lot of display below was not necessary. She looked fantastic in an emerald suit with a low neckline. It didn't match the sky, or her eyes. But it looked real nice with her pale skin and red hair.

"You are a sight for sore eyes," McCoy said, straightening up so he could reach the wine.

"And I was going to say, you look a little less 'sore' than when you left Sickbay."

"Damn straight." He grinned at her, taking up the bottle of wine and the empty glass, raising them in inquiry.

She grinned, sinking slowly into the water with a sigh and glancing at the glass. "Damn straight, Len," she agreed. He poured. They toasted each other, and sipped wine, and chatted about whatever crossed their minds, relaxing together for the first time since reporting aboard the Enterprise.

Christine remembered his first words to her when she reported to Sickbay. "What are you doing here?"

She was beginning to think the same words, but in a very different way, and she had a very different answer, too.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Gaila said, trying to stand up. "Nharts!" (An Orion curse? Jim supposed it might be. She never cursed in Standard, though.) Gaila was bent over, her face scrunched up with pain. Kirk stood to pick her up. She felt perfect in his arms, except she was holding her left leg rigid. He brought her over to the bench under the viewport, laying her across his lap.

"Where does it hurt?"

"My leg, my lower left leg and foot. Owwww!"

He was supporting her back with his left arm, gently exploring her left calf with his other hand. "Wow, you've got a hellacious knot in your muscle. And your foot feels stiff in the arch. How'd you do that?"

"Dancing, you fool," she snapped, and immediately said, "Sorry. I did a few moves I didn't warm up for. Darn it!"

"Do you want me to try and massage it?"

She bit her lip and nodded. He rubbed and flexed her foot first. It began to relax, but couldn't rotate fully because of the cramp in her calf. He stroked her calf muscles in large circles, then smaller circles, then gently massaged her leg and the muscle began to unkink, but after fifteen minutes or so, it remained stiff, and Gaila was still wincing.

"How about we go to Sickbay," he suggested.

Her eyes got big. "No! They're all miserable down there. I visited Charlene Masters today, and she whined the whole time. Charlene has never whined! That disease is awful – and gross. I got all the details, yecch. She went on about it for a quarter of an hour. So did Scotty – nobody can complain like he can. They are so annoyed being stuck there. They just want to get back to work. Everybody down there does, and they have to drink this horrible smelly green concoction."

"Well, it's the only way to get rid of the worms," Kirk pointed out.

"Oh my goodness, Jim, it was just a chorus of misery, her and Scotty, Sulu and Chekov and Hannity and Gupta. I couldn't stand any more. And the smell! Ugh."

"The whole Sickbay doesn't smell like that, you know."

"I know, but I don't want them to see me and start complaining to me again. You know I can't not listen. I'm too sympathetic. Normally. What stupids they were, ignoring Dr. McCoy's warning about the street vendors! So no, I don't want to go to Sickbay, I really don't. Can't somebody come here and help me?"

"No, I don't think so … Bones doesn't believe in house calls except for deathly emergencies."

She made a face, acknowledging this truth.

Jim's expression brightened and Gaila gazed hopefully into his eyes.

"We'll go to the gym, the hot tub might help."

She half closed her eyes and smiled. "It might! Let's go."

Uhura closed her eyes in sensual pleasure. Her lips closed around the spoonful of dark chocolate mousse. Then, on a devilish impulse, she turned the spoon slightly, the bittersweet taste caressing her tongue, and – gazing at Spock – licked the mousse out of it, showing him her … technique.

Wait, was that his foot stroking up the outside of her leg? She narrowed her eyes at him, smiling. His expression was imperturbable.

Just then he put a spoonful of mousse in his mouth, looking sidelong at her, and slowly, slowly, pulled out the spoon.

Christine Chapel finished the last of her second glass of wine and noticed Len seemed pretty tired – shoulders propped against the top edge of the hot tub, his head relaxed backward in a prelude to sleep. "Hey," she said urgently. He shook his head as he brought it up and apologized.

"Whew – fourteen hours on duty and half a bottle of wine …" he said, blinking. "May not have been the smartest thing I ever—" and paused. "Oh, my."

Christine, who'd been watching him, followed his gaze, and saw Jim Kirk, bearing lovely green Gaila in his arms, coming toward the Jacuzzi. He settled her on the edge of the pool so she could soak her legs in the hot water. She gathered up her sheer silver skirt, plunging her left leg into the water, and sighed with relief. "That … feels … so-o-o good, Jim. Thanks."

She peeled off the skirt and tossed it away from the hot tub; under it she wore a thong, green to match her skin and maintain some decency beneath the sheer skirt. Gaila sank quickly into the water, the bra of her dance costume glimmering beneath the surface.

Kirk went into a booth, got bathing trunks from the clothing processor, put them on and went out to join his friends. As he walked toward the Jacuzzi he watched the two beautiful redheads – Gaila, her wavy auburn hair trailing into the water, curling into wet spirals, and Nurse Chapel, her titian hair wound up in the back, curling at the front.

Bones, his damp dark hair sticking out in all directions – McCoy had more cowlicks than Jim had ever seen on any living being – looked languid without benefit of bourbon. Jim suddenly realized how tight Bones was often wound; like Jim and Spock, he had the care of the crew on his shoulders all the time, but used poor coping mechanisms. Kirk made a mental note to order Bones to take a couple of hours off daily, outside sleep time – barring shipwide emergencies – so he could do more than drink and sleep. Maybe McCoy was curmudgeonly because he was always taut as a string about to break and taking a few snorts of booze was the only way he let himself relax.

Kirk stepped into the hot tub and felt his own muscles loosening after carrying Gaila down here, worrying the whole time that someone might see them. (No one had, mirabile dictu.) But at least, Jim thought, muscle tension was a rare thing for him – he generally took good care to exercise, stretch, and keep his body limber.

At the Academy Captain Pike had taught him that by example. Maybe instead of ordering McCoy to take a couple of hours off after work, Kirk could ask him to … yeah! I'll tell him I need help with a new exercise program to maximize my coping skills. Of course he'll have to take part, right?

But this evening, he'd pursue his individual program of relaxation by showing appreciation for Gaila. He made his way to her side.

When her hand closed over the top of his knee, he figured she might be doing the same thing for him.

So what happened to your leg?" asked Dr. McCoy. If he'd worn glasses, Gaila thought, he'd be looking over them at her. Nurse Chapel looked interested and friendly. When Gaila had gone to Sickbay on her afternoon visit, Chapel had been all business, wearing a rather stoic expression. You'd have to, wouldn't you, to cope with that smell. Gaila wasn't sure if the smell emanated from the herbal decoction the patients had to drink, or from … blugh … the worms, but she wasn't about to ask.

"I didn't stretch well enough before I danced. My leg cramped up something awful – my muscles knotted!"

"Where did you dance?" asked Chapel. "I would love to have seen you. I've never seen an Orion dance performance."

Gaila bit her lip. "It was a … sort of … private performance."

"So Bones, how's the Gnallifian … thing going?" Kirk asked, rolling one shoulder and easing his neck. Nurse Chapel looked amused for a second, as if to say, Good diversion there, Captain.

McCoy's right eyebrow ascended – he was about to answer acerbically – and Chapel quickly said, "It's going about as well as we can expect, Captain. Your officers really hate being away from work. And Doctor McCoy needs to spend a little less time listening to them complain. He needs more rest."

To prevent her from seeing McCoy's expression at this last, Kirk said, "Please, call me Jim."

"Jim, then. My first name is Christine," she told him.

"I kno—" Jim caught a thunderous, don't you dare look from Bones. "I noticed," he amended. "I was reviewing the crew manifest recently. It's a pretty name, Christine Chapel."

"Thanks," she smiled.

"Charlene and Scotty hate drinking that herbal stuff," Gaila said before thinking, but Chapel's eyes crinkled at the corners and she let out a laugh.

"Everybody hates drinking it. But it's the only thing that'll kill the … that'll fix the problem. We could spend a few hours isolating the essential elements and formulating an up-to-date cure for the condition, but Le—Dr. McCoy won't hear of it."

"By the time we did that, the herbal stuff will have gotten them better. In about six hours, Scotty and Masters should be back in their quarters for one more shift of bed rest. And too bad if they don't like it. A little suffering is good for the soul – especially the souls who didn't listen to their CMO before they went on shore leave." He narrowed his eyes and smirked evilly.

Jim laughed. "Man, you've got a mean streak! I think you're more pissed that they didn't listen to you than that one-third of the crew is down with worms."

"Yecch," said Gaila, shivering. "I'm glad I went shopping instead. They were saying the food tasted great, and three hours later they all had to run to the head."

"'Run' being the operative word, from what I hear." Jim grinned. "I was lucky, I went to a restaurant. Cupcake knew this great place."

"You still call him that?" Gaila wondered at it. Hendorff was a nice guy, but after a few beers, he wasn't always, not when he got mad about something. He'd gotten mad at Kirk in the Shipyard Bar four years ago because Jim had put the moves on Uhura. Not to mention his paws.

"He's sort of gotten used to it," Jim smiled. "I like it as a nickname for him, and I'm the captain …"

"That's not nice!" Gaila frowned at him.

"… and he said he's fine with it if I don't call him that in front of other people." Jim looked at her reassuringly.

Chapel rolled her eyes. "You're a pair. You two and your ju-jitsu practice. How many times has one of you needed shoulder repair?"

McCoy held up a hand, indicating with his fingers. "Hendorff, three. Jim, four." He arched his eyebrow at Kirk. "Guess his scoring more hits than you hasn't taught you anything, huh."

Kirk grinned. "I have to test myself, Bones. Gotta practice to get better."

McCoy rolled his eyes and ended with a glare at Jim. "Know what, Captain? Nurse Chapel and I have better things to do with our time."

Kirk raised his eyebrows, baby blues twinkling, and said "Oh really? "

Something caught Gaila's eye. "Hi, Yoo-hoo," she sang out. "I love your dress!"

Uhura looked up, startled, and waved at Gaila. She had somehow thought she and Spock would be alone. She looked at him in consternation, but he walked forward to the changing booth. She followed him in. He was already doffing his tunic.

"Weren't we going to be …" she began. Spock leaned forward and slowly kissed her lips. He pulled back and gazed into her eyes; sometimes those eyes of his almost hypnotized her …

Spock was saying, in the sexy, raspy range of his voice, "Surely we may partake of a communal soak for a short time."

Uhura nodded, slipping her arms up around his shoulders, flattening her palms on his warm skin and sliding them up to the back of his head. She pulled him into another kiss, a slippery, deep one, and saw his eyes close. They opened as she tipped her head back with a crooked smile. "I'm game if you are."

He reached, stroking her collarbone with the backs of his fingers, tracing downward to unbutton her dress, his eyes beginning to twinkle. He fetched something out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Thank you … I forgot to bring one," she said, winding up her hair into a bun and securing it with the rounded holder. Spock hung her dress up and took off his boots, trousers and underwear. Nyota appreciated his nude form as he stepped over to the processor to order and don swim briefs. He saw her watching him and raised his eyebrow. "You did express a wish recently—"

"Ahhh," she said, with the air of a conspirator, took off her high-heeled sandals, and preceded him out.

"Why do you call her Yoo-hoo?" Christine asked Gaila as Spock descended into the hot tub, turning to lift Uhura down. That was gallant, Gaila thought, but Uhura seemed oddly pleased about it. She was usually quite independent. They settled down across from Gaila and Jim, nodding to everyone in greeting. Dr. McCoy was studying Commander Spock.

"It started as a silly joke I made when she was helping me refine my Standard. Remember, 'Yo?"

Nyota nodded with an abstract smile.

"She was telling me colloquial expressions …" There was an undercurrent from Spock and Uhura's direction that almost distracted her … "She told me the one, 'yoo-hoo,' that some people say when they're trying to get someone's attention … and because she was studying communications, I joked that she wanted to say 'yoo-hoo' to everyone in space … then I realized those were sort of the first two syllables of her name, so …"

"…You never let her hear the end of it," Kirk smiled.

Chapel grinned. "It's cute though! Uhura, do you like that nickname?"

Gaila looked at Nyota, concerned. She hadn't ever really asked Uhura if she liked it or not! Yo was usually so kind; had she been hiding her dislike of it? "Do you?"

Uhura's face looked distracted. "It's … it's a nice reminder of our early friendship," she said, then smiled.

Spock, sitting to her right, had stealthily put his left hand on Nyota's knee, his expression inscrutable. She was watching the others, but from the corner of her eye, she tuned in to Spock's face. His hand caressed her thigh, up from her knee to her hipbone (his eyelids lowered, for just a second), down to her knee, up the outer thigh to the curve of her hip, down again to the inside of her knee (his mouth began its tiny, tiny smile), up to – Yow, she thought, trying to keep a straight face. His fingertips ghosted over her loins to the buttons on the lower right seam of the suit. His fingers weren't trembling now; they were steady as they unbuttoned the seam on "his" side.

The overhead was deep blue and lit with "stars" and Uhura could almost believe they were on the beach at Mombasa, except for the pattern of the lights in the sky. The underwater lights in the Jacuzzi subtly highlighted everyone's faces, but because of the fizzing, foaming water and the steam rising from it, nothing much was visible below the surface. She felt Spock's hand slip between the front of her suit and her lower belly. And fingers slipping into places where they had no business while she and Spock were in the presence of others, but tonight was special, and she decided to, er, open herself to possibilities. Though conversation was going to be decidedly difficult, she felt it was only fair. She had somewhat intimately touched Spock the last time they'd been in here, unbeknownst to Jim and Len, who'd been with them.

Ahhhhh …. There was nothing like Spock's delicacy of touch. He was a master. She had to keep her eyes from closing in pleasure.

It wasn't just an undercurrent now, Gaila realized. Pheromones were wafting through the air. She turned to Jim so she wouldn't be watching Spock and Nyota. She didn't want to give them away! She took joy in the idea that Uhura was open to doing this sort of thing, actually.

At the Academy Uhura had always been sweet – when she wasn't all business – and took time with friends at meals, listening to the details of their lives, heartaches and study troubles, joking and laughing with them too … but in classes, watches and study hours, she'd been strict in her attention to detail and military custom and studies and oh … everything!

Gaila had learned a lot from Uhura about professional demeanor but loved getting her roommate off Academy grounds to relax: hiking, shopping or going out in groups to dance, eat or drink. Uhura was a lot of fun when she relaxed. But once she and Spock had discovered each other … whew. Uhura still had "fun," but not often with her classmates. Gaila had thought it was too bad, because she figured Uhura and Spock must always be so intellectual and … intense with each other. Not a lot of fun. Now, smiling into Jim's face, Gaila knew otherwise, and was glad.

"What?" said Jim. Gaila squeezed his hand under the water. Then she did something else, and he grinned.

"How's your … umm … your leg?" he asked, now disconcerted.

"It's feeling much better, thank you."

"Good!" He motioned so that when he turned his head to speak low into Gaila's ear it wouldn't be so noticeable. He apparently thought the Jacuzzi's humming and bubbling would interfere with Commander Spock's superior hearing. (But maybe the commander was distracted already.) "I'm gonna take off – I'll be just down the passageway. Follow me in a little while, okay? Discretion's the name of the game." He cleared his throat, looking at the others, and said, "Well, I've gotta get moving. A captain's work is never done."

Commander Spock and Doctor McCoy each raised an eyebrow and Gaila worked very hard not to laugh. She could keep a pretty straight face when necessary. "'Bye Jim!" she said. He nodded, smiling.

"See you around."

He went in to shower and change and after a bit Gaila saw him emerge. She was happy he was wearing the light turquoise sweater. It made his eyes gorgeous – well, more gorgeous than usual. Gold was not his color. Except that it was the command color, so he was stuck with it.

Gaila was quite sure he didn't mind that.

Interesting, Uhura thought. Water's not having the usual sort of astringent effect on my secretions tonight ... agghhh – keep a straight face – don't sigh, don't sigh!

She remembered the little bottle by the foot of the bed and Spock sipping from it, then going down on her and releasing its delicious, tingling smoothness onto her labia. And she thought a little farther, because by entering her briefly, he'd applied it to his lok as well ….

Reaching over – discreetly of course – Uhura moved her hand over his loins, puffing water onto his sex with her cupped hand. Repeatedly. Then she very slowly reached into his waistband.

"My leg feels so much better!" Gaila exclaimed, lifting it up and massaging it down to her ankle just to make sure. She had great flexibility, and her ankle and a little bit of calf emerged straight up from the hot water as she did so. Two pairs of eyes aimed in her direction. She had never thought Commander Spock would be susceptible in this way to her female charms, but he was off duty. Or he might be assessing her scientifically. Who knew? Dr. McCoy wore a slight, appreciative smile. His eyes had the nicest glimmer of humor.

Belatedly Uhura turned her eyes in Gaila's direction, and said, "You had a cramp? Mmm … uh, forgot your warm-ups huh?"

"Yeah, I did," said Gaila, but she could tell Yo wasn't really following her reply. Her friend looked quite distracted, actually, and a tiny bit regretful, as if she was being rude by not attending to her words. Gaila wanted to laugh; Uhura had better things to think about!

"It's been nice to be with you," she said to everyone, "but I need to get back to my quarters and review some computer specs before I go to sleep."

Commander Spock raised an eyebrow.

Oops. If he asked which ones, she'd have to make something up. But he didn't, oddly for him, and just looked at her, his left eye doing something at the outer corner. If he'd been human it would've been the beginning of a smile. She bounced up out of the tub, making a few waves, but nothing she needed to apologize for, and departed for the sonic shower booth. It cleaned and dried her costume and drippy hair as well as her body. She donned her shimmery skirt and cloak and left the Fitness Suite.

Jim was standing a little farther down the passageway; he was at one of the central computer terminals, doing something official-looking, and she came up behind him as if seeing him by chance. Some ensigns were down the way discussing which was better, phasers or disruptors. There was one holdout for disruptors.

"Good evening, Captain," Gaila said formally, but wearing a smile that said she wasn't subordinate just now.

"Hi – er, good evening, Lieutenant," Jim replied. "Hmm, I've been meaning to ask you about the new subroutine on the command link to Engineering …"

"Well, it's detailed here," she answered, hitting a few touchkeys on the terminal to reveal a holoschematic. "There you go, see? You can connect and when you touch these buttons in the armrest – there are several patterns you can use – you can ask one of the engineers simple questions without saying a word. In case of awkward situations with outside entities."

"Very good," Kirk said. Then, head bent as if examining the screen's demonstration of which buttons meant what, he whispered, "I'll meet you at your door in a couple of minutes."

"Why not walk with me?" she whispered. "We can talk work until we get there. Then you can—er, yes, Captain, you just do this, see, and the helm will answer in emergencies."

"Ah, I didn't know you hooked that up too," he said, watching three crewmembers pass by, talking Academy vs. Berkeley football league stats. They met the ensigns and all continued down the passageway together, making plans to gather later for drinks.

"We didn't, not yet anyway," Gaila whispered. "That part's coming after Scotty fine-tunes it, geeze …. Okay … let's walk and talk, then you can meet me back at my quarters a couple of minutes later. If anybody asks, say you forgot to ask me something. You're not very good at this, Jim. You amaze me."

He grinned a little sheepishly. "Well, at the Academy I was usually able to ask for company outright," he murmured, turning to leave. "Let's go."

Nyota watched Spock's nearly impassive face, and could swear that his eyes were twinkling.

After a few more minutes, he removed his fingers from that deliciously ticklish spot, and buttoned shut the seam of her swimsuit, then moved her hand off his leg – discreetly, of course. He took a moment to … compose himself, looked at her, and said, "I believe it's time we left."

"Mmm, it was long week today," Uhura joked, smiling at McCoy and Chapel, neither of whom looked as if they believed she was weary, but were going along with her pretense.

"Felt just the same in Sickbay," McCoy said, and as Spock and Uhura stood to wade over to the steps, he said, "Y'all have a good night."

McCoy turned to Chapel as Spock and Uhura made their way to the sonics booth to dry off. "If Uhura's going back to her quarters alone, I'll give Scotty a whole bottle of single malt," he muttered, the corners of his mouth upturned.

"Where she's going is not important," Christine returned quietly, eyes twinkling. "But I'm quite sure she's not going to be alone."

Len stretched beside her, putting both arms along the upper ledge of the hot tub, one conveniently stretched behind Christine.

"Golly," she smirked playfully, looking over her shoulder at his arm behind her. "Are you gonna try to get to first base? The holoflicks are no place to make out. People might see us."

"Maybe second base, if you're willing," he grinned, then, going along with her pretense that they were teenagers at the movies, looked at her earnestly.

She put her head back and laughed quietly. "Oh, Leonard McCoy, you are a mess." It was an affectionate Southern rejoinder, one they both understood well, he being from Georgia and she, Virginia.

"Apparently a mess you like," he replied, touching her chin with a stroke of his fingertip.

She gazed into his eyes and whispered, "Yeah, I do."