A/N: Posted this chapter without my new beta looking it over. My dad really wanted to read it.
Usual disclaimers about not owning anything.
Four days later, Kirk sauntered into the main science lab. He found his science officer holed up in a small office, surround by several bolts of clothe in varying shades of orange.
"Really, Mr. Spock," murmured the captain, "you should have informed me that you were planning to open a bridal shop in here."
He laughed and flung himself into the only chair in the room not supporting delicate orange fabric. "I know you're just dying to quote Starfleet regulation pertaining to personal commerce ventures aboard starships."
"Computer," Spock called without looking away from the display in front of him. "Save document CMGS to file SNTF2263 and transfer to my data PADD."
The document he'd been viewing disappeared from the screen. But not before Kirk got a good look.
"The Complete Moron's Guide to Sewing? Jeez, Spock. I was kidding about the bridal shop," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought old you found a high-speed dressmaker for you."
"It would seem the woman did not have time to finish, or even to begin, Lt. Uhura's wedding garments," Spock said.
He was in something of a quandary. Despite his best efforts, he'd still been unable to interest his betrothed in playing the part of bridal control freak. Surely this was not the same woman who had forced him to sit through endless hours of the 21st century "reality show" called Bridezillas.
At first, he'd thought she shared the program with him as an example of what not to do. She had quickly disabused him of that notion.
"I just want you to see how bad it can get," she'd told him. "That way, when I'm up to my ears in color swatches or crying my eyes out trying to choose between twelve different bridal bouquets, you'll know it could be so much worse. Plus, some of these women had really great ideas!"
The marathon airings had started a week after they'd decided to have a human wedding ceremony. They had ended three days later. Spock was reasonably certain there were many more hours of the program left unviewed, but he decided it was unnecessary to point this out.
Content as the commander was to go about his days and nights as usual, another three weeks had passed before he realized his betrothed hadn't mentioned the wedding again. From a woman who had never passed a market place, mall or modiste she didn't wish to visit, this was disconcerting. From a woman who had taken notes while watching Bridezillas, this was frightening.
But now, with just three weeks to go before the big day, Spock had more important things to worry about than the state of Uhura's mental health.
Things like what she was going to wear to the marriage ceremony now that the Scalosian seamstress hired to make her gown had failed to meet him at the Enterprise's final station stop prior to reaching Earth. Instead of a nearly finished gown – designed to his and M'Umbha's specifications – and the services of a renowned dressmaker, he'd been left with several meters of fabric and a hasty note of apology.
Never mind that the woman from Scalos should have at least had the fabric cut and basted into something remotely resembling a dress by now, Spock calculated. Ambassador Spock had recommended the woman not only for her reputation for doing quality work, but because she could knock out a fully functional dress before you blink.
"Since there is insufficient time to search for and engage the services of a replacement," Spock continued, "I have decided to attempt to fabricate the articles myself."
"You're making Uhura's wedding dress?" Kirk's incredulous voice rang throughout the small space.
"Captain," Spock spoke quietly, "I would appreciate a measure of discretion regarding this matter. I believe it is not the usual tradition of most Earth peoples for the bridegroom to create the bride's dress."
"Well, it's not exactly a Vulcan tradition, either," countered the captain. "Is it?"
"No," Spock answered in his customarily dry tone. "I wish to avoid causing Nyota any embarrassment she might feel if knowledge of this were to become widespread."
Kirk smirked.
"I think it's more likely that you wish to avoid embarrassing yourself, commander."
Spock's face remained as placid as ever.
"I would feel little discomfiture should others learn that I was capable of creating an aesthetically pleasing article of clothing for my intended," he said. "Indeed, it's design is the result of a close collaboration between her mother and me."
His fingers slipped over a few buttons of the console's touch pad. He indicated the screen before him.
Standing, Kirk walked over for a closer look.
"Spock," he said, his tone losing its former irreverence, "can you make this aesthetically pleasing article of clothing for your intended? It looks awfully complicated to me."
Spock looked up at his captain, then reached into his pocket to produce a crumpled bit of pumpkin and persimmon-colored brocade.
"I believe my talents lay in other areas," he said.
"Looks like this stuff is supposed to kind of loosely drape around her, uh, bosom," Kirk said, holding up an apricot-colored length of filmy cotton. "Going by your sketches, I'd say we need about four centimeters of give when it's stitched up. Is there going to be enough? Do you know how big she is there?"
He sat on a sofa in his personal quarter, opposite his first officer. A pile of textiles lay on the low table between them. A data PADD displaying several views of the dress, capturing it from all sides, lay in front of each man.
"I am familiar with Nyota's dimensions, Jim," Spock told him. "However, in the interest of scientific accuracy, I have enlisted the help of Dr. McCoy to acquire a more concrete measurement. I asked him to bring the results of her most recent examination here tonight."
Kirk snorted, staring at the PADD.
"I don't understand why you and Mrs. Uhura had to make it so fancy," he complained. "A nice simple sheath – easy to get on and easier to get off – would have been better on a lot of levels."
He looked at Spock and wiggled his eyebrows.
Spock raised an eyebrow of his own.
"I am also familiar with the mechanics of removing female clothing from – " Spock was interrupted as the door chimed.
"Come," said Kirk.
Leonard McCoy bustled in, nose buried in a data PADD.
"I've got the – what in Sam Hill... ?" The doctor had looked up from his PADD to the sight of the captain and first officer sitting among the detritus of the sewing trade. "Is this some kind of sewing bee?"
"Seamstress bailed. Spock and I are going to make the dress. We've only got three weeks," Kirk said.
"Two weeks," corrected Spock. "The dress must be ready by the time we reach Earth; unless you are offering to travel with us to Africa and sew hems up until the ceremony?"
McCoy glanced from one to the other.
"Either of you actually know how to sew?"
Spock indicated view-screen on the wall behind his chair.
"The Complete Moron's – oh, for God's sake! Move over, Jim," McCoy said.
Kirk made room on the sofa, and McCoy plopped down next to him. Grabbing a PADD with the sketches, he frowned.
"Couldn't make it a sheath, could they?" the doctor muttered to himself. "Had the have the empire-waist, halter neck – who the hell thinks a beginner can handle the pleating on a chiffon halter? – and a full skirt?"
McCoy looked up.
"Which one of you yahoos thought a brocade skirt – a brocade ballroom skirt – was a good idea with a chiffon bodice?" he demanded. "You know how much gathering that will take? Now, just think about rough seams rubbing up against that lovely skin. In the African heat. Especially if you two are doing the sewing."
Spock raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kirk.
Kirk's mouth hung slightly open.
"Bones, I didn't understand a word you just said," he told his friend.
"What?" McCoy snapped. "My mother's cousin was a tailor. Not everyone gets all their clothes at commerce centers. Or from Starfleet supply."
The last was directed at Spock who had quickly recovered from his own (hidden) surprise and now responded to McCoy's earlier question.
"I aided Lt. Uhura's mother in designing the gown," he explained. "We had engaged the services of a highly recommended dressmaker. As she is no longer available, the captain and I will attempt to make the dress ourselves."
Now it was McCoy's turn to snort.
"I think might be a little beyond you, despite your vigorous research." He waved a hand towards the view-screen and sighed. "I guess I know why you wanted me giving Ms. Uhura a check-up."
He began sifting through the pile of fabric.
"She'll be real beautiful in that dress, Mr. Spock. Even more gorgeous than usual," he said. "Now, which of these is gonna be the lining?"