It didn't happen right away, their relationship becoming something they both felt at home in. But when it happened, it did so in that way that daily events oft do; after enough repetition, they finally settle into place as though they've always been that way.

It happened like this: Leonard and Spock, both preferring to assure themselves some that the basic attraction they had for each other would hold over the long term, had not exactly exclaimed their devotion over the comm. system. They both knew that settling into something for good meant it had more of an impact should it not be what you expect. Spock did not bring Leonard chocolates—when he went to meet Leonard, it was always after the man's shift in the infirmary and while he was dating and reorganizing hypos with large labelled stickers. Food was prohibited—and so Spock did not bring Leonard chocolates. Leonard didn't smother Spock with flowers: when he went to meet Spock, it was always to draw him out of the labs, and labs cannot be contaminated by airborne pollen—or rather they very very easily can be. And, the one time he'd tried bringing Spock flowers to decorate his quarters with had not gone over in the traditional manner—

"Leonard," Spock stepped to the side of his doorway upon seeing the other, and Leonard took the invitation to enter, "what is the purpose of the rhododendrons. Have I not been informed of yet another celebratory holiday for couples?"

Leonard reddened at the reminder of their first valentines. "Nah, nothing like that. These are just to say that I appreciate you. Like that tea you gave me."

Spock took the proffered bouquet, holding it out from his body while he moved further from Leonard to find where he could place them. "Thank you," Spock stopped glancing for where to put it—a problem had occurred to him, "however, I have no vase in which to place them."

"I can go get you one, if you'd like." Leonard shrugged with shoulders drawn slightly in, "Sorry for not thinking about that sooner."

Spock nodded once in acknowledgment before giving his response. "I would much like a vase—" Leonard started to move back to within the sensor range, ready to spring to the necessary action, but Spock continues, "—so as to preserve the amount of life that they have left."

Leonard shuffled back into the room proper. "That ain't sound so good, you thinking about them dying already." He held still in waiting for Spock to say something. Spock's mouth tightened in a manner Leonard had since become familiar with while in private, in that way he had of showing that he did not appreciate Leonard waking up later than him and then failing to reorganize the blankets to militant precision after his use. Knowing Spock wouldn't express his discomfort if he thought it would offend, more demure with personal than political pronouncements, Leonard prompted "Come on now, speak up."

Spock straightened his shoulders and held the roses back out; Leonard accepted them without comment. "Very well. I am of the opinion that you should appreciate someone in a manner which is consistent with said person's beliefs. I see no cause for wastefulness of any organic life."

Leonard upturned one corner of his mouth. "Well, I suppose I'd best get that vase and let them live their final moments comfortably."

"Indeed. Thank you, Leonard." Spock paused and added, "Also, thank you for not discarding my tea. It may yet be pleasing to guests which you will have over."

Leonard, already turned around, laughed. "Yep, ghod knows I won't be touching that stuff in this lifetime."

—so he didn't bring Spock flowers. They weren't interesting enough to coax him out of the lab anyway unless they could injure him somehow.

After than night, four months into their relationship, Spock and Leonard seemed to mesh more naturally: Spock learned to stay for the whole night when it was him who was removed from his domicile. He learned how to bring parts of his domicile into the others as well, by replicating an extra cover for the cot for when he was to be sleeping, or by adding in five variations of tofu to the personal replicator.

And Leonard learned how to 'read your family friendly alien' by shifts in facial expression. Minimally narrowed eyelids meant he was relaxed, that the smile not on his face was nonetheless reaching his eyes. A perfect military stand in informal situations meant that he should play defense against any Ensigns who showed up most commonly in his sickbay with avoidable injuries. And a small humff without that same military posture meant he was sublimely amused.

And, after that night, that goddamn awful valentine's day where Leonard had literally prostrated himself with more roses than what comes in a single bouquet was erased from both their memories—although, roses remained avoid, the history on them being two against and zero for.