"I'd like you to try this on.", there is a slight change in her tone, a sort of cheekiness in her voice.
Passed from her hands to his is a box of sorts, of decent size and modest heft. It is through simple deduction that there is clearly something housed within. It seems that his courter had been planning, well...a small act to which he is completely oblivious.
"Nyota?", the lifting of a lone brow, almost in a kind of confusion, is all that pertains to his response.
"Humour me..."
Yet another arch of a single brow, as he glances again at the box, then her. Then, in stoic silence, he turns to make a journey to the washroom. Despite not laying eyes upon the now broader smirk marking her face, he is aware of its presence, as if he can almost sense it. How...curious.
Shielded by the confines of the small space, the box is placed atop clean flooring and the lid soon lifted by his hand. His expression upon finally meeting the carefully folded contents can best be described as mild perplexity. The item now grasped by his hands is removed from its placement, and another arch of a brow is made. A raised brow of confusion. And yet, the rather odd – and light-hearted – request of his courter is met by his due compliance. Deft fingers soon begin to unravel the clothes presently hung from his figure.
A comfortable seat is now taken by her, her form placing itself onto the plush bed. To await his return, and her plan unfolding. She is patient, yes, but he is rather efficient at the small task of changing clothes. So, very little time is squandered.
Within minutes, he emerges, and... what a sight.
Beheld by her eyes is the visage of her courter, clad by that very item she had gifted him: a one-piece garment, in hues of beige and brown, and of a design that resembles a bear. The piece itself is complete with oversized paws and feet, and rather comfortable in its plush material. In more simplistic phrasing, a bear "onesie"; that last term was the name such clothing was known by. Many, many generations ago, it was seen as a trend, worn by teenagers and young adults as a light-hearted act of expression. A fad, as it were. And here, stood just shy of the washroom door, is a remnant of that trend.
The face of the one now adorning the garment is stoic as always; yet, the one who gifted him the garment sports a rather...different expression. Her eyes are wide and her mouth agape, with speech all but escaping her as she ogles the figure before her. To put it mildly, she is gobsmacked, and if she were a character from a vintage cartoon, her lower jaw would most certainly meet the floor.
"You do not find my appearance satisfactory?", his voice, even as it always is, breaks her fog of awe.
"No...", speech at last stutters from her, "...quite the opposite, Spock. You look...adorable."
"I do not understand your request for me to wear such an... unusual garment, Nyota."
"Well...", she moves closer to him in leisurely steps, "...this may have something to do with me calling you a teddy-bear."
"I still do not fathom your reasoning behind comparing me to what is essentially a children's comfort toy."
"To help you understand, give me a hug."
Oh, but of course he complies, and the slender figure before him is encased by lengthy arms. A small sound is produced by her throat, like a hum of content as she is warmed by the embrace. It is with this small act that perhaps he does at last understand, and he outwardly softens further. This is, simply put, a bear hug. As her entire frame is cradled by his, her eyes and face soften with his demeanour. She is...comfortable. Content.
"See?", comes her quiet voice near plush fabric. "Teddy-bear."
END