"Aren't you going to ask if I had fun?"
Spock glances up from his desk, the dimmed light in his quarters shadowing his face. "Was that not the purpose of your shore leave?"
I sigh.
He punches a key on his console, stands. Quiet jazz begins to play. "The dance club was satisfactory?"
"Hmm."
"Indeed?"
"Missed you."
My love bends to kiss me before taking me in his arms.
We start to sway softly in time to the music, and I lean my head against his chest.
"I thought you didn't dance."
"Sometimes…in the privacy of our home…my mother insisted."