It had been a long, boring day, and Jim wanted to relax. He wanted to be out of the command chair and to zone out while avoiding paperwork. He did not smile at this, because dodging his yeoman was not funny. He shuddered at the thought of her efficiency.

It didn't keep the smile from his face.

His feet found the least direct route to the rec room, and he took the time to nod and smile at people, resisting the urge to wink at the occasional cute ensign. The rec room doors loomed ahead and slid apart as soon as the sensor read him.

It was surprisingly low-key, and sparse. Kirk caught a glimpse of a few huddled groups playing cards and other games, quietly speaking to each other. Everyone seemed reluctant to disturb the quiet, even though most of them had gotten plenty of it on the bridge. Alpha shift had long since finished with beta shift already in place, gamma probably still asleep or scattered across the ship. He smiled at everyone he saw, but joined no one yet. He made it a point to be amiable and social with the crew, but aside from a select few, there were not many for whom the friendship was not colored by his position. It had been hard at first, to go from peer to superior, but Jim was almost used to it by now. There were over four hundred people on this ship, and he couldn't be best friends with them all, any more than a parent could be with their children. He kept the company he kept and allowed them the same for the most part, let them be the way his mother might have refrained from attempting to insinuate herself into a conversation between him and his own friends when he was young. And they knew they could come to him in the same way. Jim hoped even more so.

He told himself that his smile did not wilt when he caught a glimpse of Spock and Uhura.

The scene was downright cute. Spock had managed to snare the last of the oversized couch that lined one of the walls, and Uhura had apparently solved the problem by dragging over one of the overstuffed bean bag chairs (thank you, Sulu, for that suggestion during refit) and was sitting at his leg. They were both thoroughly engaged in reading their PADDs, and no one would think they were doing anything couple-y, except for the way she was leaning against his leg.

It was a different sort of pang than watching the crewmembers or the ensigns. Spock was one of the few equals he had on board. Watching him with Uhura was like watching the ex with the kids' new stepmother.

He walked over before he could talk himself out of it.

He had no plan, but then when did he ever, and it was okay, he thought, because this was about nothing more than the fact that they were the only other senior officers in the room.

Spock noticed him before Uhura did and he blamed the Vulcan's ears. It was his, "Captain," that caught her attention and lifted her eyes. She smiled at him and Jim assumed she was in a good mood, not because she had, but because she had done it first.

There was an expectant pause and Jim stood, unsure what to say and for some reason lacking confidence in his bullshitting skills. He could have done this, he decided, walked over here and actually said something intelligible, even without a plan, had he known why the hell he was coming over here in the first place. He was surely interrupting more here than he would be if he had just gone ahead and plopped himself down with Ramirez and Barrows for poker.

It bothered him that he was interrupting when there appeared to be no activity to interrupt. It spoke of some other, intangible connection, and he didn't know what to do with that. What bothered him most was that it bothered him in the first place.

He stared at Uhura's smooth bare legs and told himself that was why.

"Did you wanna sit?" she said, and she looked half concerned by his uncustomary silence.

"There is no available space on which the captain may sit," Spock said as he looked up briefly from his reading.

"Actually, I came to ask Spock if he wouldn't mind working over a game of chess. There're some reports to go over and some updates in Engineering..." Kirk refused to fidget as Uhura blinked in obvious amusement, and Spock...

Spock pretty much just stared at him. Like normal.

"Don't you two get enough of each other on the bridge?" Uhura laughed and Kirk flinched inwardly. This was not going well, he thought. "It's okay, the time has passed faster than I realized anyway. I have a department meeting I'd like to sit in on. If you'll excuse me, Captain."

She nodded in his direction, and shot a lingering look at Spock before she left. Kirk watched her go and suddenly wanted her back.

When he turned again, Spock had risen from his seat. "So?" Jim prompted, though it probably wasn't necessary.

"I have finished perusing this particular article. I do not have a logical reason to decline."

Kirk rolled his eyes, but smiled. "'Sure', would've sufficed."

The near fondness conveyed by the height of Spock's responding eyebrow arch settled Jim's nerves on just how welcome his intrusion had or hadn't been. He tried not to let it go to his head.

Jim was glad that only one of the room's three chess sets were occupied. Spock owned one, glass and onyx pieces, that tended now to travel back and forth between his quarters and Jim's own depending on who had won the previous match, but Jim had not intended to invite Spock from Uhura's company into his quarters and he certainly hadn't intended for it to look like he had. Private games were always pre-planned games.

They received nods from the ensigns currently duking out their own match and then seated themselves at the next available board. Spock glanced at Jim as they situated themselves, like he was waiting for something.

"Yeah, you're white this time." Jim waved a hand at him, wriggling in his seat. One of the chair's legs was shorter than the others.

By the time he had stopped fiddling with it, Spock had moved a pawn up a level and was still looking expectant. Jim obediently made his own move, but Spock's face did not change but to lift his eyebrow again. Jim squinted curiously at him and then mockingly raised his own in a mirror of his friend, a silent question.

"What?"

"There is no data PADD currently on your person," Spock said.

Jim blinked slowly. "No..."

Spock's eyes lowered to the game again and he reached for another piece but he was peeking at Kirk from beneath his lids. "May I assure you then, Captain, that there is no reason to presume that ship's business is the only sort which would prompt me to accept an invitation."

And oh, right, reports were supposed to be being reviewed here. Jim watched Spock watch the board, avoiding Jim's eyes not as though he were embarrassed, but like Jim might be.

He grinned, because what the hell, Spock wasn't looking anyway.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

Uhura brushed her hair, and through the mirror, watched Spock refold the shirts she had carefully (or so she thought) folded for him earlier in the evening. She merely smiled and continued her grooming ritual, humming to herself. Spock finished and continued to rearrange his second drawer. It was the closest thing to restless activity she had seen from him in a while.

"Something you want to talk about?" she asked, parting her hair and braiding it quickly.

"No." He moved to the bed, and adjusted the blankets, preparing them for sleep.

"Did you enjoy your chess game with the captain?"

"It was gratifying to see him adopt methods I have passively introduced to him. You were correct, he would improve if he believed it his own idea." Spock paused, and watched Uhura braid the rest of her hair before moving away from the mirror. He briefly experienced a memory of his mother at her vanity, brushing her hair while his father read reports in the master bedroom's sitting area, hiding the fact that he watched. He could look on it fondly now; the twinge was minimal.

He almost smiled.

"Good. The department meeting went well. We've been picking up some chatter about Earth Outpost 4."

"To be expected." Spock watched as Uhura walked up and laid her head on chest.

"It's been a long day."

He resisted the urge to respond that the "day" was never any longer than the accepted parameters that defined it, but he too had to admit the colloquialism was fairly apt today.

"I suggest we retire early, if you are so fatigued." Her fingers found his and her mind bloomed like reds and yellows in his own, and what she thought had nothing to do with sleep. "I believe I would be amenable to your intentions."

Uhura laughed, and allowed herself to be tugged to the bed.

"Isn't that-" Jim almost said illegal, because he was pretty sure that was the case, but Scotty's eyes were wide with faux innocence and it threw him off in a sympathetic way, "against regs?"

"Ah, well," And Jim knew this signaled the start of some impressively woven bullshit, "tha's just under Article 2, Section B, an' even then, i's only if ya don't have the proper casing. Lieutenant Michaels is handlin' that, an' the whole thing'd be wrapped up in three days flat, in any case."

Jim squinted one eye at the engineer. The lower decks were bustling with others going about their daily business and even more rushing to see to their individual assignments regarding this ambiguous project, but he refused to focus on them. He stared Scotty down as best he could, but the other merely maintained his original nonchalance.

"Warp capabilities?"

"Shoul' knock us outta the higher registers. Nothin' over warp four while we're at it, but tha's all."

It was said all in one breath, which meant the man was excited, which meant he thought Jim was about to cave, and Jim couldn't exactly claim he wasn't. More to see what would happen than anything, he asked, "What'd Spock say?"

"... Sorry?"

"What did Spock say?" he repeated slowly.

Scott cleared his throat. "Well, he said that he personally could not really see the need for such advantageous adjustments."

Jim tried not to smirk. "So, you were turned down and decided to come to me?"

Scott looked aghast. "That would be against protocol!" he said quickly. "I merely gathered more information to support my case, and brough' it to the highest officer currently on duty."

Jim did snort then, and scratched at his chin. "I just... don't want to set a bad precedence with this sort of thing."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Scott said quickly. "I just know you love the Enterprise as much as m'self, an' we both want her in peak condition a' all times."

"Yes, we do," Jim said slowly. He was well aware the only reason the ship needed half the repairs of most in the fleet, despite seeing twice as much action, was Montgomery Scott and his undying love for the Enterprise and its well-being. He also knew he was running low on a certain liquids he couldn't get anywhere else and which he had always let pass, despite his confidence that they could eat through the ship's hull.

"It's not as controversial as some of your... other projects, but if we can make room for them, I don't see why I can't authorize this adjustment."

Scott beamed, and nodded vigorously. "I's a relief t' hear you say that, Captain."

"Why, because you already started?"

At least the man had the decency to look chagrined. "Somethin' like that. Efficiency is key, I always say."

Jim opened his mouth but before he could manage a witty retort, there was a firm, two-fingered tap at his shoulder and he cringed, turning to find a put-upon looking Janice Rand standing behind him. She looked unconcerned that she was interrupting two superior officers, and who could blame her, because it was rare Kirk would chastise her and she had no doubt arrived and waited until a suitable end point in their conversation anyway.

"Yeoman," he said. It came out sounding firm and he decided he was impressed with himself. He wouldn't have been nervous of her if he didn't know she had good reason to be annoyed with him.

"Captain," she returned, and nodded at Scott for good measure. "Commander." He nodded back. "I hope I'm not interrupting, but there are some forms I need you to sign." She gave him a look that he was far too accustomed to seeing from Spock. "Several, in fact."

"Of course you do, Yeoman Rand, of course you do." He found perverse pleasure in smiling wildly at her, until she pursed her lips, looking like she would have rolled her eyes at anyone else. "Scott," he said, turning to his chief engineer. "You... just..."

Scotty fired off an overdone salute. "Aye, Captain."

Kirk turned and with Rand, left Engineering. "So, Yeoman, what do you have to torture me with now?"

"It wouldn't be torture, Captain, if you would finish your paperwork as it comes."

"But then I'd never have time to do anything else." Kirk nodded at a few whom they passed, staring at the data PADDs she carried and noting that there were three. He snorted and caught his yeoman staring at him. "What's on the agenda?"

"You'll have to sign off on the two disciplinary actions on Ensigns Carter and Lee, Communications has submitted two requisitions and the CMO has submitted the final schedule for shipwide physicals. Also, Earth Outpost 4-"

"Yes," Kirk said heavily. "I know." He stopped in front of the back entrance to his ready room, while Rand tapped in the security code, and then they both entered.

Kirk stopped in front of his desk and groaned. The PADDs mocked him.

"Hold on, hold on. I haven't sorted it into your preferred sorting." Rand patted his forearm and pushed him gently in the direction of his chair. Kirk didn't tell her, but he liked being manhandled by Rand; it reminded him of his mother when she was around.

"Serious Shit, Serious Bullshit, and What Rand Can Handle?" he asked hopefully. Rand laughed outright, and then looked surprised with herself, quickly removing a few of the PADDs before setting down one of those she carried.

"If you get started now, you can be finished in two hours."

"I'm not a robot. Not like you, Rand. You're so efficient and kind and hardworking and-"

Rand closed her eyes and tried not to laugh. "I'll take care of these," she said, referencing the two PADDs still in her arms. "If you can do more than half of what's on your desk, you can be quite proud of yourself."

"I'll hold you to that, Rand," Kirk said, waving her away as he picked up the closest. "Oh, this is yours," he said abruptly, handing it to her.

Rand frowned, but walked over to take it. "Oh!" She blushed and tucked the PADD away. "That's from-"

"So, that's Kent... No wonder." Kirk snorted. "As you were, Yeoman."

"Yes, sir." Rand wanted to sink through the floor as she left to her office. That was the last time she would carry her personal PADD around while on duty.

During their rather extended period of speaking solely through his mother, Spock had thought of nothing but the differences between himself and his father, if he thought of Sarek at all. In the near year since her death, he had come to understand that their problems stemmed far more frequently from their similarities. Because two such like individuals had little on which to speak, he was unsure - no, certain - that they had never learned how to carry on a conversation with one another that did not have an express purpose. Or perhaps his time spent around Humans had merely enlightened him as to the worth of conversing for enjoyment rather than solely for communication.

In any event, they tried. This was evident by the fact that Sarek had managed to inquire after the ship, his own well-being, Lieutenant Uhura, and even Earth Outpost 4 before reaching his point.

"The Terran delegation here has informed me of the Federation's intent to include a Vulcan ambassador in the diplomatic party to be assigned to the Romulan summit meeting."

Spock carefully schooled any surprise from his face. It was not terribly unexpected, really. "Is that wise?"

"The Empire wishes to stress their lack of association with Nero. It is logical that the Federation convey no evident doubt of this for the time being."

"You will agree to go then?"

"I have not been asked."

Of course. Members of the party were still being discussed. Spock was certain Command had yet to even hint at possibilities to Kirk. "You surely will be."

Even through the barrier of the comm unit's screen and the lack of expression, Spock could see his father's face change. "I am not ambassador to Romulus."

Spock blinked warily. "Vulcan society has no Romulan ambassador," he said. Ambassadorship implied an alliance. He was unsure one was the goal of these talks. Unsure if he wished it to be.

Sarek ignored his tone if he perceived it. "Your counterpart has been somewhat mentioned-"

Before his father could finish, there came the sound of the door swishing open, which only four people had access to, Spock himself included, and only one of which was expected.

"If you will excuse me, father, we will have to continue this discussion at a later time."

Predictably, Sarek merely inclined his head and did not ask questions, a trait of his people that Spock often missed on-board the Enterprise. "Live long and prosper, Spock."

"Peace and long life, father."

The transmission cut and Spock rose from his desk to find Nyota perched at the edge of his bed, already removing her boots.

"Your father?" she asked, reaching to undo the clasp at her neck.

"Indeed," he said. "He is gratified to hear you are well."

She glanced up long enough to grin at him. "I'm gratified he's gratified." She slipped her dress down and over her hips, moving to reach for a robe from her allotted portion of the closet. "What did he want?"

Spock would not deceive her for his own comfort. "He wished to share knowledge of the upcoming peace talks and to, as you say, 'check in'."

She gave a snort of a laugh and said only, "Good. I'm glad things are moving. You wouldn't know from where we sit."

He glanced back at the silent comm unit upon his desk as she readied herself for sleep. As was often the case after speaking with his father, he felt less settled after than he had before.

"Indeed," he said.