I'm used to his post-counseling stony silences, and I let our evening unwind in the usual way: he drifts to his data port in silence, we eat in Vulcan silence, he meditates in silence. I think the only thing that breaks the silence is my sigh as I slip into a silky gown for sleep.
"Nyota."
I turn and he comes to me. He takes my hands and raises my fingertips to his lips, closing his eyes. His warm breath washes over my hands.
"Are you okay, Spock?"
"Nyota, I…"
"Hmm. You love me?" I tease.
He nods, serious. "Yes."