Welcome back! Don't worry, I won't end this so fast. There's still a lot to do. So, let's have them have some fun, and some banter! Oh, and Leonard is starting to be very curious.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Spock's face. He had turned on his side in the night, and she could feel one arm of his resting heavily on her.

He exhaled softly and furrowed his brow. She would have never guessed Vulcans could look this cute. But as things stood, she would have the rest of her life to wake up to sights like this.

Some minutes later, she was trying to slip back to her quarters unnoticed to get dressed, as a familiar voice stopped her.

"Chris! Wait!"

It was McCoy. Christine sighed inwardly as her plan had been thwarted.

"Are you alright?" her friend asked as she turned around to face him.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?"

"Well, for one, you're walking around in your PJs, second, you weren't in your cabin this morning when I stopped by."

"Oh? What for? Do you need help?"

"Oh, I just…Wait, why weren't you there? Where have you been?" McCoy looked at her disbelievingly. Then, he turned to look where she had come from. That was the direction of…No, that couldn't be it. He was indulging in puerile fantasies. And it really wasn't his business to know where she may or may not have spent her night.

"Eh, I just wanted to check if you had the report on Ensign O'Leary's meniscus tear. He wanted to come in again today."

"Yes, it's in my office. Feel free to take it from there."

"Thanks, Chris. See you at lunch?"

"Don't count on me, Leonard, I don't know yet what I'm doing today," she said carefully. It was very close to a lie; she knew at least that she was going to spend her free day with Spock.

"Alright, darlin', have fun!"

There was something afoot, he knew it. But it really wasn't his business.

Christine knew Spock would not have minded terribly if she had filled Leonard in on where she had been, and she would have felt obliged to tell him had he asked a more direct question. She would not go as far as lying, but she enjoyed the secrecy for now.

Spock arrived at her quarters in casual attire, awkwardly extending a little bouquet of flowers.

"Oh, thank you!" She took the delicate present and arranged them on her dresser. "Are you wooing me?"

"We might be slightly behind schedule on that."

"Oh, I don't know, Spock." She pouted slightly and leant against her bed. "I might insist on it."

"Very well," Spock said decisively, with a quirk of his eyebrow, "the recreation deck, then lunch, and a walk in the arboretum afterwards, if you'd like."

"Oh, I'd like it very much."

She took Spock's arm and they left her cabin together.

The recreation deck was nearly empty at this early hour. Small groups of people were scattered around its different areas, but compared to other times, it felt positively deserted. The sheer size of it certainly contributed to this. The recreation deck of the old Enterprise hadn't been nearly as big, as the architects of this one had provided ample space for recreational activities, a detail that was easily overlooked but crucial when it came to deep-space voyages.

The quantity of choice did not help Christine get any idea what she could do with Spock. She knew he was out of his depth when it came to having fun, and she hadn't yet formed an opinion on what he could like.

Humouring him, she agreed to play a game of chess with him, which she lost quite quickly. She didn't think of her strategy as bad as Spock's look seemed to say, but it was clear that she was spectacularly outmatched.

"With some practice, you could defeat me someday," he said.

"Nice way to say I'm a hopeless case."

"I did not say that."

"You implied."

"I did not mean to imply."

"Am I a hopeless case?" She fluttered her eyelids at him in a gesture she knew some men might find irresistible.

"That depends on what you are referring to. However, I don't think you are that inept in any area that 'hopeless' would be a fitting description."

"Why, Spock, that's very flattering of you."

"Not at all. As an average human being, you possess the ability to broaden your abilities in almost any sector, thus transcending the definition of hopeless."

Spock met Christine's eyes and realised that his use of the word 'average' had probably been an unfortunate choice.

"Say, are you always this charming?"

He could see she was taking his literal reply with good humour.

"I think you already have your answer," he murmured and stood up. "Shall we have lunch now?"

They moved towards the door, and for the short distance, out of sight from any nosy crewmember, Christine locked her arm with Spock's.

"Actually, if I'm being honest, you are one of the most charming men I know."

"Why, thank you."

"Also, the most stubborn, inflexible, frustrating, uncooperative…"

"I think I get the idea, thank you."

The dining area was still empty when they arrived, but they knew this would not stay a private lunch for long. The next shift-change was imminent and their friends would undoubtedly join them.

"Can you teach me Vulcan?" Christine asked, stabbing her salad haphazardly.

"I can try."

"I'm an ambitious student."

"I know you are. But Vulcan is not biomedical research. The language is complex, with variations in dialects. I will try, but I will not hold it against you if you do not master it."

"Wouldn't it be expected of me?"

Spock sighed. Expectations were something he had been intimately familiar with since he had been a child. They had often been contradictory. The expectation to master his emotions like any full Vulcan and be academically successful had been closely followed by the expectation to fail miserably.

"It might," he said. "But I would not mind too much if you didn't."

"You would not mind me failing Vulcan expectations?"

Spock raised an eyebrow at her and shook his head.

"It would be unfair, and inconsistent. One of the biggest decisions in my life was, in essence, a failed expectation." He met her questioning glance and explained. "My father expected me to join the Vulcan Science Academy. I joined Starfleet instead."

"Well, I'm glad you did." She eyed Spock's tray. "You know you can choose your own variation of meals and don't have to take a standard menu?"

"I know, yes. But the standard menus cover all the basic nutritional requirements. I see no reason to deviate from that system."

"I'll take that restrictive behaviour into account for your next physical," Christine chuckled and leaned back in her seat.

"Doctor McCoy said my results were within normal parameters."

"He also said you should watch your weight. As in, not lose any."

"Does that not condone my choice of the standard menus?" he protested.

"It's not the worst you can do," she acknowledged. "Just keep in mind that those only cover basic, average requirements, and don't necessarily reflect individual needs."

"I will keep it in mind," Spock said, clearly put off by the fact that his lunch had become a medical consultation. "Do you have any other remarks concerning my choice of food?"

"Only one question," she said, eyeing one particular object on his tray.

"And that is?" he asked apprehensively.

"Are you eating that apple?"

"You may have it," he said relieved, handing her the fruit.

Minutes later, Leonard McCoy slid into the seat next to Christine.

"Enjoying your free day?"

"Oh, yes," she said.

"Huh, what are you doing today, then?" Leonard asked casually, nibbling his sandwich.

"Oh, this and that," she answered likewise casually, all the while looking at Spock imploringly.

"'This and that', huh? It's ok, Chris, you don't have to tell me."

It was unusual for Christine to be as vague, but she was entitled to keeping her private affairs secret. Leonard got the nagging feeling that there was something she wasn't telling him. But as much as he would like, it wasn't his job to find out, if it didn't seem to interfere with normal ship's functions or someone's health.

"What about you, Spock? How does a Vulcan spend his free day?"

"Some relaxation and private exploration," he said, in a tone that forbade any further questions, but didn't keep McCoy from shaking his head at what he believed to be Spock's typical antics.

Both Kirk and Uhura joined them during their meal, and thankfully no one asked any further questions.

Christine desperately wanted their friends to know soon, but for the moment, this was more than enough. This was just hers and Spock's. With no one else around them knowing, it still had the quality of a dream. She felt as if it would lose some of its wonders once people were aware. Of course, she knew that wasn't the case, but she still enjoyed the thrill of knowing something so momentous and not telling anyone. With all the inadvertent spontaneity of recent events, they deserved this choice to themselves, to share just this day only with themselves and leave others oblivious.

Seated among those oblivious friends, she smirked at Spock over the table, answered by a minute quirk of his eyebrows. He had perceived a short burst of contentment from her, so intense that he could feel it even without physical contact. Curious creatures, these humans. As telepathically unschooled as they mostly were, they were rather good at transmitting their feelings.

To be continued...

While they start to get settled into this idea of happiness, their friends still don't know. Buckle up for feelings!